Sticking to this week's theme of the surreal and subjective, here's a poem that I wrote, late last night:
Too Many Breaths
Burning through too much stuff
Organizing too many projects
Too many ideas floating in my head
Yet
I breathe
Working too much of the time
Commuting too many miles
Too many people in this land
Yet
I breathe
Using too much of the oil
Cutting down too many mountains
Too much consumption to keep on
Yet
I breathe
Learning too much to remember
Finding too many possibilities
Too much knowledge for one poem
Yet
I breathe
Understanding we're too insignificant
Seeing too many stars to count
Too many souls in the universe
Yet
I breathe
Aging with too much potential
Growing too many cells in the body
Too much unknown in the future
Yet
I breathe
Reading too much between the lines
Guessing at too many of my words
You breathe
Too.
KLF (3/7/007)
Smoke art via Hanging Pixels
Epicurus, and the Wings of Angels
by
Jonathan Vos Post
To find that all sensation is pain, is the atoms of Epicurus in the snow. That pleasure
is peace deferred & the fear of death along the boughs of willow.
That which you told me with the roundest words is the chord
which makes surrounding silence music & your warmest limbs
communicant by dark, a lyric bitter with anticipation.
I would not have it otherwise. Let thirst remember
fountains; the void, your wave; the space
between us like a mirror, sword to the
touch, your name by sleep; while I
fold your perfume barbed with
softness & your echo
to my sheets: what you don't
hurt, can't
know you!
[17 Dec 73]
http://magicdragon.com/EmeraldCity/Poetry/LoveDeathPoems.html
I think this one could also be called Too Many Thoughts. Yes, very deep stuff. I like it. Nice poem, Chaotic Utopia.