Monday, December 19, 2016

I Miss the Certain Thing

I miss the certain thing
The unending to allegiance to a word
I miss waking in the morning, steps laid out
But temporary steps
And the sound, swelling
Of all the world before me
Rooms of houses, filled to the brim
With dying voices, tearing
Into one another with reckless uncertainty

I miss the yes being yes
The no being no
The maybe being no
The later being no
But the yes
Used to be yes

I miss the quiet morning
Swimming in oblivion
Feeling guilt of the last night’s transgressions
Knowing that redemption was out there
That someday I would find it
Before i realized the truth
That my hope is unwarranted
That I have myself condemned myself
To wanton uncertainty
Hopelessly faithful to my own demise

I miss the silence
To sit and see and sense
That broken I have come, and in darkness
To this place of noise and nonsense
Of death by distraction
And never ending screen time
My greatest aspiration
When the world was dragons and lightsabers
And I was a huddled mass of potential

I miss the infinite unknowing
A cloud that hovered overhead
When not knowing was sufficient
And hope was all I had
to hang my hat upon
Now, I am captive
To the world at my fingertips
To the whispers of deceit
That tell me I am all there is
This soiled world, small and shrinking
Is ever mine to appropriate

And I miss it, insignificance
Knowing beyond knowledge
Hoping beyond hope
That I am not the means nor ends
Nor medium nor method
Just a seed on a stone

Floating through the infinite cosmos

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