Deep pt. I

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Review Chain


From the moment of birth to when we die, life presents us with dilemmas and questions that amuse, titillate and confuse us. As we get older, we realize that what we thought we knew was all pure
conjecture. This poem is meant to reflect the myriad of disjointed thoughts that have run through my mind throughout the years. The "why me?" and "what is my purpose in life?" questions usually are
met with ambiguity and incoherence. Many of us are beleaguered with these conceits and although some find solace in religion, for people like me it becomes an existential never ending struggle.

Submitted: November 08, 2017

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Submitted: November 08, 2017

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Deep I

?

Life secretly offering fleeting moments of happiness…

but the underlying sadness creeps through; the grief of human condition always seeps through from the unconscious

. I always imagined it as the watery liquid separating from the unctuous and the solid matter of the brain as a pervading force that relentlessly pursued my happiness.

I am reminded often that this life offers no protracted security of contentment only taunting bits of joy

. Is that what we must satisfy ourselves with then?

We are to be grateful solely for the passing seconds of joy.

deep in the forest, a shot rang out at least I thought it did or someone wanted me to go to line one

In this life we are offered only an empire of dirt and the subconscious encumbered with the knowledge that we are merely destined become part of that empire

?

Dig Ever deeper then ever before to a vast explosion in the mind

a surreal look at life through the lens of a thought provoking premise

lines of discord pertrude through the common lens of brevity

This is no illusion, Time is never still. If you were blind before,

What hope can the future bring now?

In this time of loneliness, There is nothing but segregation.

Nothing more than the existentialist, What hope can the future bring now?

Now that we stand guarded, What will the new dawn hold?

If eyes can pierce a beating heart, What hope can the future bring now?

In this time of bitterness, Of exceptional cruelty and hate.

Could not the wise ones say, What hope can the future bring now?

For scholar and learned man alike, Can spout truths, facts and figures. But amidst the pomp and spluttering,

What hope can the future bring now?

Rise then and be heard wistful, No one has our stance and holding.

We are comfort in a sick world, We are today, tomorrows little dream


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