Contemplation’s Limitations

Pig at night

 

The tubes and sticks and stretchy bits

That fix my entity into this realm

May not justify existence to eternity

But never the less nor more

Whatever else may be in store

To sweep through all the ticks and tocks

That pour from clicking clocks can approximate

The actions of a life of satisfaction.

 

That bees may sneeze, that birds in trees

May chirp degrees of elemental melodies

Can only add to things that please

Like mozzarella pizza cheese

Or poetry’s simplicities and magic keys

To tidy bits of thought that fits to memory’s complexities.

 

To wonder over thunder can blunder to confusion,

Can elucidate the dizzy state of perceptual illusion.

For lightning’s stroke may evoke an electrical condition

That sends one head over heels tumbling to perdition.

But none of this strange hit or miss can kiss or totally demolish

A life’s demise or pleasant surprise to distinguish shit from shoe polish.

At end to spend examination over daily dumb damnation

Of hope’s scope to barely cope for some neat explanation

Of who and where and what should care within our speck of time.

Our senseless gropes just flail and fail to attain the ultimate sublime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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