E.A.T.

Every road could end in failure
Every desire could end in tears
Every moment could be your ending
How crucial to weigh your fears

Any risk depends on consequence
Any victory includes loss
Any trial reveals some frailty
Be wary of unanimous applause

The moral is hardly collateral
The motive barely contorts
The mistake will fade convincingly
Truth equally reveals and distorts

Stray

A paper with your name on it
number of years spent preparing
for where you’ll work
not to make you understand yourself better
or sharpen the skills you deem worth

Employee in the chain of productivity
first in line gets to smirk

You’ve made it
stepped over your peers
overcame the competition
now you order everyone around
make them toil for your gain
last to grab gets to beg

Piles of paper, endless texts
all in theory, nothing effects
press the buttons, stare at screen
watch where your friends have been
bills to buy junk
homes for deals sunk
pay the banks till your dying day

A paper with no name on it
life shouldn’t be to find your fit
a wager then to pause the flow
you’ll only know if you let go

Deluge

edges melt
forming puddles
your feet splash
in

pitstops on highways
strewn cans and faded graffiti
skid marks like scars
fading

promises that never stuck
windows trembling in the storm
raging to flatten saplings
emerging

from a bleak cocoon
colors like scorching blood
rushing rivers as fingertips
touch

quotiens

Were it all just a game
Strive to win – shame to lose
There’d be no point in trying
Only the best are blest
But failure is its own reward
To have fallen, yet to rise

Were it all just for things
Who collects the most while alive
Nothing is ever enough
Save rest for the dead
But having no cares is bliss
Hidden peace, forbidden highs

Were it all just a lie
Evolving, civilizing and back again
A creation of ideas not worlds
Supernovas blooming in reverse
But not knowing abets possibilities
Chosen few, or in for a surprise

***

(quotiens = Latin, “how many times”)

Re:

Aye, streams ripple in rhythm
The world is at rest
No place for conflict
And so it twists and turns and bends
Until a river

Aye, creativity is rampant
Everyone partakes
Who’s to categorize art
It arrives and departs on whim
Until emptiness

Aye, we are part of the problem
It’s easy to drown out guilt
One’s opportunity is the other’s plight
The streets are thronged with outrage
Until silence

Nay, the planet is not doomed
Every effort evens out the scales
We are but a fleeting extravagance
All caught up in pursuits
Until conjecture