Metaphor of the Night

There is a history of the Earth

That few will dare to conceive

we’ve suffered amnesia

so we can scarcely believe


When the alien enthusiasts

or just a casual truthseeker

braves the convenient lies to

condemn him as he sorts out,

makes sense and exposes the

manner with which we

are continually distracted with

specters of irrelevant nonsense

coming from the tube.


He makes so much sense

But the lies we’re sold are

easier to eat

we’d rather stay ignorant

and think we will stand on

our two feet


But, is the ground solid?

are the things we see with

our five senses really there?


Someone once told me that

Physics sees a world that

Is beyond belief.

So, if that’s really true

Then is there really hope

to get some relief?


The world that I live in

Is so crazy.

Moral laws once thought to be concrete

now hazy.

Even the words the church preacher says

seem more like echoes of cheap advice

from bartenders and loose acquaintences

at work.


Where is there wisdom?

I thought the elderly had

A monopoly on this

But they’re either feeders of talking points

from Bill O’Reilly or

subdued by Alzheimer’s mind emptied bliss.


This leaves me alone with my thoughts

alienated by all of the goods that I’ve bought

left to endure the brain chatter that remains

alone in my exposure to it

till I go insane.


So, I’ll smoke another cigarette

Or dull my loose thoughts with a beer

But I can’t escape that voice

That beckons to me somewhere

It’s Here

Elusive yet cunning

The words seem disjointed

and crackling like a radio

Station out of range at

the traffic light.

What would it take to

clear up the signal

perhaps inching forward

just a nudge until

I finally hear it.


But the light turns green and

The driver behind me leans on his horn

to wake me from my

Self indulgent distraction

Of what may have been a misleading metaphor.


We continue to allow ourselves

To be misled by the illusion

rather than cut through the crap and

Witness the ego’s delusion.


It finds safe harbor in your body

but abhors you in the mirror

It builds fortresses and stores

armaments with illogical vigor because

it drives you toward madness,

its own demise a nonessential detail.



But to death will it lead you

Toward entropy’s natural

nauseating nirvana

where physics may hold true

but prisoner to creativity’s

relentless but ill-gotten enemy.


Entropy will hold sway

Until the choice is made

to seize the day and

Mount Calvary’s coherent

Beast of sustained reign-less emotion.


So, we seek logic’s stern

unalterable resolution

Only to release pride’s stronghold

on free will.


What a conundrum, a paradox

a man laid bare of his senses

held hostage to the

cold wind’s torrential

hurricane of doubt.


But, can a human being’s

limited life provide an answer

to calamity’s fateful hypocrisy?


As surely as is the opposite

of what a mortal man presumes

For as far as what the ego

Scares us into accepting

As incorruptible validity

This shadow, spectre and irreversible lie

is under no circumstance what

it portends to be

It is not and never has been

accepted by the ultimate source

as being anything but a bad dream.


The ego amuses you seduces you

Into believing incomprehensible shadows

Think clearly and see how

utterly unsubstantial

all of your bogus creations have been.


I welcome your comments and feedback.



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