as we advance, we fall back - progress a plague; addiction a screen hiding forgotten truth ignored with no recourse - we know no limits facts are rumors whispered on the wind; reality, truth is what we believe we've done this to ourselves; post-modern questions opening the door for invalid answers - we numb ourselves with harmonious songs condemning those who sing off key forgetting to ask why they know a different note - the disease is more the symptoms: want and greed we could be cured by enough if we could see past the screen to look back, to accept old truths, we might be sated
The End of Optimism
Shadow of the Moon
in the quiet warmth of mid-afternoon I looked up to the sky and through the brilliance of the sun saw a half-whisper of gray poking itself through the vibrant blue curtain as a button through a hole - in a world where no one is on time, I wondered why it was hours early for its engagement with the evening - I thought I might touch the moon, so close did it appear, but as with so much in this world, it was a deception - seeing the moon at eye's length, I was reminded of the size of the universe and that I am small, my time short, so I must make haste to enjoy the full warmth of the sun before night falls