23 August 2014

Three Hundred and Eight


Even if you could somehow take back every single regret,
Make different decisions at each and every blundering misstep,
You would just create another wretched array at which to daily cringe.

* * * *
We must all play to the given audience on the given stage.
And no matter how many stages you may
In any given life wander,
In your own dream,
You are ever lead character,
Immortal protagonist in the grand theater.

* * * *
So many words propelled this way and that,
As if their ceaseless back and forth
Will somehow engineer
Their conceptual notions real.

* * * *
We all discern it is a mystery,
And then quibble, feud and battle,
Over our endless speculations.

* * * *
Everything a hook holding up the veil.

* * * *
Without you to witness to it,
There would be no light by which to see,
There would be no matrix of mystery to be explored,
There would be no truth to be discerned.

* * * *
Freedom may be less about being able to do anything you want,
As it is being able to decline, to sidestep, anything you do not want.

* * * *
Megalomaniacs, narcissists, sociopaths, psychopaths and other predators
Have always manipulated the course of the human drama,
Because in the natural order of things,
Prey rarely do well
At more than hiding, dodging, or running.
Evasion and servitude are the hallmarks of so-called civilization.