“Focus,” they say,
“keep your eye on the prize,
blinkered to what’s happening to the world
outside.”

And we do, tighten our screws
of servility to lifelovehateselfrepel
allelse, and, we heave tiredly, ‘why not?’
‘It’s the tech age, life only gets better
without the responsibility
of making decisions. Program me in.
Yeah, program me into
ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
I am lust without sight, nothing
but emotional mutations, incorporated
into a frightful disharmony of devotions…’
So ends Humanity’s
search for its core of being alive…

Until, a flare burns bright, psyched,
a mind composes Time into Motion.
Without the commotion and clutter
of original soul-hard skin flawed
by sins of ignorance, of innocence,
and precious young growth, of
formation.

But, Christ in a handbag!
This is not working! Guilt and subjugation
denigrate the Eve of Adam, the Light
of Free Thinking, of feeling the rightness
of harmony, of love and respect and appreciation.
Where did that shit go? You know? It's perverted. Why
is peace so elusive, and War is so prevalent?
Indoctrination? You think? Men, Man, Human,
Woman, Humanity, so what? Big cosmic whoop...

On the scale of enormity of limitless space,
consisting of utter emptiness of true measure,
it becomes infinity. And Time is its child,
forever suckling at hollow apron strings
of nebulae expanding beyond Time’s own time,
creating folds and ripples and warps of colossal
quantums, which, in their quirky love of chaos,
extinguish all light, accidentally, and,
repenting with mind because sight was blind,
promised creation’s conception
would combine opposites to ignite
godhead’s ultimate precursor to cosmic weight,
responsibility.

Because, we have to advance, past
the debauchery of Olympic wiles,
and trials of subcontent and subcontinental
contraptions of illusional delusionment,
have to evolve a spaciousgracious terminal world
into a frankfulthankful genesis of worthwhile
possibilities and hope.

Then, Freedom will reappear.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 4/11/05