2009 -- 2.1 (Fall) Poetry


Closing class but no bell to tell of knowledge ending.

Too late to absorb even the most free of substances.

Justin playing his part directed by the one who believes

That the best possible way to get a-

Head down striving not to be a part

Of this reality not called life.

Waiting is a funny game where everyone else laughs

The fun is being had by everyone but you.

To be or not to be is not our question.

We sit still in silence, but making a great wave.

What tsunami are we learning about?

Does it matter? Both are killing heavenly created beings.

At this point what does it matter? Who matters to you?

Do I matter?

Let the sun brighten my past so I might slip unseen into a darker tomorrow.

Stop worrying about what is and what will be, because I am and always will be.

Picture it, surfing down the very division of day and night,

And we say,

“Let there be light”

“Let there be light”

“Let there be light”

The blood stains being erased by the murderer himself.

Who will tell me I am or am not? Who will I listen to?

Were you the conductor of that midnight train?

And if not, will life itself play its own refrain?

Put a basket on my head and what do I see

But the woven ancestry of fallen angels.

The god of sun and moon could not save them.

What will you perceive as truth when this all is done?

Life ends when I put down this pen and this all is done.

Goodnight moon

Goodnight earth

Goodnight sun…