I love what you love, my computer's forever same
our yellow, blue, and black wires, identical in brain
When watching documentaries, I too feel really good
if we can bottle that emotion, I really think we should
As contribution is two-time bombs, ticking to the blast
is it the red or the green wires we snip to get there fast
I can't remember what I had to say before I lost the thought
yet in the searching for gone things, some new ideas popped
A lot more than two, actually, as a slew of thinking came
becoming blocked as beaver dams, log jamming in the rain
Then the overflowing pondering conceptually flooded fast
ever leaving me in a debris field, devoid of everything I had
Every baby is adorable, between black and
white and every other color of the rainbow
and all human infants live within the perfect
presence of everyday living, fully absorbed
in a moment to moment mode of existence
So many men lose that ability to be happy
right here in the now, I know I did one time
I found it again, thanks mostly to Eckhart
but I didn't become one of Tolle's groupies
because that would've only pulled me back
All caught up and nowhere to go
as if this last quarter stage of life
is devoid of the poignancy once
claimed by youthful exuberance
My ability to care is leaving me
as a dried out, quietly deserted
termite mound, with only hollow,
lonely holes of forgetful neglect
The way out is marked, solutions
back blocked by years of declining
decay, and so I'll follow the insects
disappear into the starry night sky
We were barely twenty, I think, the first time you told me,
"it doesn't matter what you think Marshall!", but like a
stubborn Homo-sapiens caught up in his own selfish
feelings of ignorant, over-importance I strongly bucked
your theory, replying, "no Mitchell, you're wrong, it does
matter what I think!"; yet fast forward now to sixty-two,
where I finally get to hold your truth, which you had way
back when, that it actually doesn't matter what I think, and
as you also said it really doesn't matter what anyone else
thinks, although you didn't say why, but I'm guessing it's
because human thought is nothing more than silent signals
worthless, meaningless, invisible electronic impulses sent
from a space already dead and lost forever to the sizzling
hands of a red giant star and a shrinking, lonely white dwarf
It's a feeling, a Universal dynamism created by atoms built into
brains of Homo-sapient, Earthbound beings, a power that melts
hearts, changes minds; has the capacity to bring all others of our
species instantly to their knees, ecstatically weeping, pushed into
states of spiritual surrender, all bowing at the humbled feet of one
miraculously freeing emotion, rapturous, all-healing humanly love
Life has a way of leaving us
in the summative tapping of time
Corkscrewing astern
like marionettes in reverse
Strung to the last deadwood cry
Life has a gift for forgetting us
in drifting flits of sleepy breeze
Keeling over and over
like capsized bathtub toys
Unmoored in raging, listless seas
Leaving is life's way of lulling us
in plaintive lappings of the tide
Wending willy-nilly
like rain in unavailing squalls
Kissed austerely goodbye
It takes a lot to boldly go, start upon journeys with unknown
conclusions, as the safety and security of whatever home we
currently inhabit always feels less scary and more comforting
than all the uncertainties of adventures with unwritten endings.
But don't worry, Uncle Spock's sending you two Vulcan salutes,
reminding all of us, the Universe too and everyone in it, all fear's
logically irrational, so off you go now my dear, brave young man!
"I'm going to let you go", said my distant in-law Aunt Betty
"well adios then", came a most unrehearsed, natural reply
she laughed, like my response carried stowed away irony
yet I distinctly remembered the strangest of reasons why
My reclusive Pa, oft showed a same sort of awkwardness
dropping me easily as soiled sombreros forgotten in bars
I didn't mind much though because something felt missing
a cultivated blindness of an unknowing closeness gone far
Oh parting is only candy sorrow
if the misery of breakup is sweet
as all agony in sugary un-joinings
is the reason we soon again meet!
I'm getting that thing we once called 'the feeling'
she's with me now far too often than I'd be liking
stealing my energy till not enough is left for living
I sure wish she'd leave me alone here by myself
but like sands in an hourglass, she's still draining
