Or: No One’s Come Lately to Walk Upon These Muddy Waters

Maybe it’s my nocturnal inclination,
The desire to tease my evening hours away,
To amuse myself with DVD’s and melodies,
Fusing music and digital visions with poetry.

Regardless,
The seed has been planted
And it has uprooted my reality.
Otherwise, rampant normalcy
Would prevent me from finding
A new pair of shoes in, say,
A dry runoff ditch
Next to an auto mechanic’s shop,
Somewhere down Airline Highway,
Let alone,
Catching a fleeting glimpse of Paradise.

In this light, it seems, I’m on my own.

Anyway,
I know this cryptic crap is all in my mind,
But remember, I once dissected a frog.
I’ve seen Jesus walking on water.
I’ve unlocked the door to a strange motel room.
And as a result, I understand
That limousines are for
Someone else who needs the ride.

Damn the blisters. it is I,
I who was born to wander this promised land,
Risking all to understand
The mysteries of this monotheistic life!

So, in my search for Sunday crossword clues
This journey has led me to believe,
To believe that there are others, others
Who consider these elusive truths,
Or, at the very least, there is someone, someone
Somewhere, somewhere,
Who knows, who knows… something!

Wait! Wasn’t it You… You who said,
Once You reached a vantage point,
Surveyed the endless sky,
Examined that vast ethereal void,
And all below was desert dry,
Dust in Your nostrils?
And told us how
You steamed Your eyelids open,
Found Yourself swimming in a bowl
Of shimmering goldfish,
Resting comfortably upon a bed
Of soft, fluffy pillows.

And how this undefined space,
Thick with its creative juices,
Flowed like honey,
A mystic sluice that spoke to you of
Mixing origami
With organic chemistry.
Stirring the ingredients
Of Your Big Bang imagination,
Shaking in those extra-spicy commandments.
Briskly whisking the world,
Whipping it up, fluffy and light,
Adding just a pinch of genetic energy,
Then measuring out Your eternity,
Before cooking up those silly little wafers.

Oh, what a night!

“Take this and eat!”
You said.
You thought You still had
That remote control
In your back pocket
Didn’t You?

You, the mirror You,
Or You who mirror me,
You made it possible,
Put positive to positive,
Negative to negative.
Yet, half baked,
I seem only an illusion,
A fraction of the formula,
Only one slice of Your evolutionary pie.
“Is that all there is?” I bow my head and sigh.

It would seem that the truth,
Was consumed with that one last grain of salt,
And remains, as of this, our darkest hour,
Conspicuously undigested.

So it begs the question,
Why do skyscrapers flourish best
In soil laced with barge wood
And oyster shells?
And why do people still live in
Tract houses that flood
Every time it rains?

Wasn’t there a Holy message
Warning us about building houses
On cement slabs or shifting sand?
Shouldn’t the choir be singing,
Today we shall be lifted up
By the pylons of God’s own hands!

Travesty or absurdity?
You be the judge!
It rattles my view of the world,
It does!

So,
What happened to that brand new planet?
The one we just discovered,
You remember, don’t you?
The one that sits idle, just opposite the sun.

Can I tell you how I got there from here?
Maybe the doctors will be able to explain…

Perhaps dissecting frogs is a good thing.
After all,
Learning is exploring
And
Exploring begets Knowledge
And
Knowledge begets Understanding,
And
Understanding begets Enlightenment
And
Enlightenment begets Change.

So, if I find some change,
Can I keep it?



Michael S. True
6-14-07 last edit 10-26-13