June 8, 2018

Adams Ail

I once knew this person
Whose brain was a fish out of water
Flipping and flopping
Desperately seeking the sea,
Yet farther and farther
They flipped and flopped
Away into a desert
Light years from home
The ocean  
They managed to stay
Alive with all manner
Of ill-suited substances
That gave their lost mind the
Illusion of liquid
Little did they know they
Were only driving
Farther and farther from home
I saw this poor fish
Gasping for water
So with gentle hands
I placed it in a pail
To no avail
The fish flipped and flopped
Its way back into the dirt
So I built a nice pool and
Placed my fish in there
Again to no avail
So I returned it to the tides
Releasing it and yet
Again to no avail
I realized some fish
Just don’t know how
To live in water




Is it so strange
To believe in
An afterlife?
That something greater
Awaits us?
Take the butterfly
An egg
Caterpillar = Man
Growth = Death
Death is a cocoon,
A stage to be completed
Before being granted wings.
Sure, the butterfly will die,
But I am sure something awaits us.




My world is too small
To write a poem
I have traveled the earth
And left the atmosphere
But still my world is too small
To write anything of great meaning
For what is left to be said?
In the grand scheme of things
10,000 years or more
Everything will have turned over
And my meager words
Will have been forgotten
All I hope is that they played
A small role in creating something
A little better
A solitary domino
An heirloom seed
That will forever grow
Its origins long forgotten
So set your eyes past the stars
As bright as they may be
Set your eyes past the emptiness
As dark as it may feel
Past the farthest reaches of space
And dream of what forever may be
For that will hold more weight
Than my frail, forgotten voice


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