Darwinian bartender serves you up a delicious Chemical cocktail designed to entice. Don’t think twice, Get stooped, stupid - Oh, but it’s smart - a smart move To make us less smart That smarts. But I can outsmart nature, And so can you. I can teach you, But I have to charge.
Copyright? Uh oh. Anyway, I get gripped - they hold me captive in My mind. You did too, once. Perhaps again. But never forever. I always wake up. I see the sparkle dim and fade into a beautiful homogenous night Sky, full of wonders, full of the same - Same material, same blocks Brick by brick she builds heterogeneity out of homogeneity, and Sprinkles a sparkle. Is it real? Or an illusion - A mirage? Floating in space, Shimmering, as I feel. Am I real? You come closer, and what you expected… Is just more of the same. I just feel… Different, and you’re all different, But I see the sameness. Aren’t I one with it? We’re all the material - Cut from the same cloth, are we Not? Am I not… Nothing? Because I am everything? And so is everything. Surely. It can be. Lies I have turned and rotated in a small, fragile hand: A misty ball of empty space - air, It holds when It thought it clasped the world - Captured in a cunning, swift sweep of the Hands - a flicker like that of the Butterfly’s wings it thought it caught. It thought it held this majestically ordinary creature - A brimming beauty with Glorious wings of flame and elements, Stretching as far as the cupped palms would allow. The hands thought they enveloped, and then swallowed that beauty, And that the swallowing was a form of absorption. But the hands then discovered, They held a burgeoning brown moth - No less majestic, by the by! They’d have you know. And they pushed the disappointment into a place Where delusion could replace. But after further examination, After lifting a finger, and Peeping through to admire the catch, The hands gasped and unclasped, As air returned to air, And they knew not a butterfly - Not even a moth, but Nothing. Empty space. These hands once thought they held the universe, then the Earth, then One of its finest inhabitants, And now, the truth is plain Plain for all with open eyes to see: The hands held nothing, They hold nothing, Because they will always hold a piece of everything.
Written 01/01/2024