i don’t know what to tell you
other than the fact that a giraffe’s
heart weighs 22 pounds and that
somebody once told me when
flies fall in love, their entire brain
is rewired to only know loving each
other. when one of them dies, their
memory becomes blank. i hope you
never think about anything as much
as i think about waking up next to
you during a windstorm at 5 am.
Temporary Meaning - II The Lion
Nothing is natural anymore. Everything is staged, manufactured and sold to us like lions being fed in a zoo; thrown to us, bony and rotten. Yet somehow, just like the imprisoned lion who will roar a forced growl of natural characteristic of the species, we eat it all, the decaying bone and flesh, just so we can have enough inside to fuel the same old statistical sound of carefully masked misery to be put on display for the visitors, some of whom having paid to see such tragedy, and some resorting to the tradition of sneaking in, like poor children of the past.
Nothing is natural anymore; even this gathering of letters, carefully punctuated to better serve the so called majority and its rules, rather than simply display a raw thought. We serve, and we display tiredly, until one day, or one fearful night for all it matters, there are no more artificial bones to gnaw on, no more illusive iron cages to keep us from observing the very real oxygen we all breathe, that we all seem to take for granted and ignore. With each never remembered breath, dies each never spoken thought, except for this. The king of this old enough jungle has only one consolation: extinction. Not because it hates its own species, or even its own masters, but because millions of years have taught it to trust the knowledge that after flesh and bones, after roars, and cages, comes the wisdom of the idea and thought, only to be succeeded by a certain vanishing of it all. An absence, an origin of all that is known. It’s a meaningless cycle, or a meaningful one because of it. But, why fret and why speak? Why indulge into the delirious where there is so much unhealthy madness boiling its very core of unknown veins? Why try and why understand the most ignored thought of all predators - why lament the death of a lion?
If it had enough time to surpass us all, to defeat the perceived natural flow of our bringing, the answer would surely resemble the cage, except we’d be in it, not the feared wild monster of the future who killed and ate Bambi.
this is one of those moments, the ones that you hear about but don’t want to see, the ones that i’ve told you about that receive shaking heads and ‘promise me never again’.
this is one of those moments when i remember the way the lie tasted on my tongue, the bitterness of the fact that i knew i…
A famous man once said that poets take the weather so personally.
I find it hard not to when I can see so plainly how weather can exactly describe a person.
That girl you always see walking everywhere by herself? She’s a thunderstorm. At first she seems cool, steady, but something about her…
