To be simple is an easy goal
with avenues to many things-
like being smart which is difficult
but read enough and do enough
and it's something anyone can swing.
Wisdom is a bit more tricky
but a simple man with convictions
can understand the little things
and see the world, objectively,
with all its movement and friction.
I'd like to think the highest goal
is to be a part of that ooze:
the simplistic chaos that's life ticking like a clock
and the ability to connect to all things.
There was a time that I connected
but my connection wasn't real
and in my days of drugs and visions
there were so many things I thought I felt-
So many things that I could see and to connect I had to separate-
to lose the rhythm and the rhyme and meter and all of a sudden become outside the bubble that was humanity till I could look inside.
And I cried at the knowledge
for how much I saw and realized with full awareness as I floated in the emptiness outside of the movement of the world, watching the movement of the world in ambiguity.
I found others like me who existed outside and they were just as miserable as me so I tried to get back in and found
there was no way, no doorway to normality
that normality was lack of this sensuality
and it was hammered like steel
until this order became what I should feel.
and every now and then it's like the metal frame
of a cot pressed close to the electric radiator:
I feel the sporadic jolt of a time since passed,
I can enter and I can live there
but
in order for me to last
in this world of order and dignified misers,
I must forget the ooze and the level beyond wise
where one exists to exist and watch the lies
and know and think and surmise...
As if to illustrate my point,
it seems I'm no longer connected to that life.
At least not in this moment.
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