To look inside

Delight, deride,

Examine and decide

What might have value

And what can be set aside

Is a process, to arrive,

Not at an end,

But a beginning.

This is, of course,

A personal report.

An effort to resort

To survey with success

That swirling inside mess

Where I must fish and catch

Worthwhile calculations,

Speculations, innovations,

Infestations of personal peculiarities

That question accepted regularities

To disassemble infidelities of rationalities.

But mind is no simplistic compilation,

A compound open clear to easy observation.

Like a forest replete with life that interweaves,

Fear and hunger, desires and loves which stalk its leaves,

The mind flows and bulks in the oddest ways,

Connects or breaks, streams freely or delays.

How to grasp and what to hold amidst the fluctuations

Is just the start on this adventure into contemplations.

This plunge into one’s self requires some attention

To the interface that protoplasm devises

To offer a moist fingertip to the winds of intervention.

We are, at best, a pseudopod of life’s surmises

Built to exist, persist, replicate and not much more.

Thereby lay our limits to confront random surprises,

To anticipate destructions or what else might be in store.

The brain, the mind, the nucleus of thought

Sits inside its shell to snag what the universe has wrought.

It does not see, is deaf and dumb, knows not of any scents.

It gathers only inputs from its nerves, constructing intelligence.

It can, of course, apprise the source where impulse does arise.

It respects, selects, directs notices from touch and ears and eyes

And engages, gauges many stages in this compilation enterprise.

From these bits and hints and other elements

That integrate into a guess, what might be termed reality.

The massive complicated interactions of totality

Remain a mystery, certainly a challenge to common sense.

Thus, the eye of I must accept, be content, to reside

Like a rabbit in its burrow or a Socratic prisoner encaved

Inside the artificial structure of the mind with which I am enslaved.

A status of great limitations wherein sanity may abide.

There are no claims to be made of universal congruence.

This stab at inherent sensible integration is individual.

We each hold unique in time and place and influence,

Not to be deterred but things change, nothing is perpetual.

So, it appears the active mind cannot be impaled, fixed, nailed

Where the universe itself eludes frozen fixation.

A good mind is wild, must be free to roam or die when jailed

If thought is caged it is justly enraged to scream in furious frustration.


3 thoughts on “Appraisal

    1. This new year, 2017, is a monster for apprehension. The entire current civilization as well as the planet as a whole, is dangerously balanced on what appears to be the multiple judgements of powers that seem oblivious to dangers that might well destroy everything. I am not optimistic.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s