Something Truly Free

I don’t want anyone to see my words today. 

I’d rather hide away somewhere dark 

     Then illuminate my idea of art

  I’d rather dim my screen so no one can see me

Today, I am ashamed of my poetry

   I don’t want to write about writing

But these fight’s I’ve been fighting

   They’re on the inside

Different people raging inside of my mind

   Different seconds stacking up, creating passing time

A dull boy with tired eyes

   Weaving an elaborate web of lies

Trying out a new disguise

   Waiting until I’ve arrived 

Focused on me

   Instead of something interesting 

Lost in the individual 

   Lost in the grand scheme of things

Just a beep on a screen

  Just a speck of dust illuminated in a lightbeam 

   Just a sneeze

Just the words that we breath

  Only a man 

Only you

   And 

All of us

   Looking for some lady to trust

Floating around town

   Head bobbin up and down

With my shoes falling off of my feet

   I feel the pulsing of my heart beat

I hear the drumming of a free soul

   While seeking shade from this heat

It’s all about me . . .

  My life is all about me . . .

I used to love

  But even that was selfish 

I romanticized her

  And turned her into a blur

I made a muse out of a human

   And aired out my dirty socks

For the world to smell 

   Crispy, as I swim through another level of hell

Another rhyming of a few words

   Another dark reflection 

Another dream

   A new perspective

I wonder when I’ll take my eyes

   And turn them away from my brain—spin them around

And see the world without this bias?

   I wonder when I’ll see ‘The Other’?

I wonder when we’ll start to live for each other?

   And not just for me?

How can the fish live for the sea? . . .

   A spiraling bias for all of entirety?

Or something truly free?

   Am I truly free when I stop living for me?

  Or is it a fading dream to be free?

Am I nature or a part of nature?

   Am I a glimpse of god?

Or just a few atoms strung together?

   Am I the weather?

Or your brother?

   Am I too focused on what I am?

Yes, I think that’s probably true. 

    I guess I’ll walk around town with my broken shoes and try to dream of you. 

Yes, I’ll close my eyes and try to dream of you. 

  That's what I’ll do . . .

   CH 8/11/24