:: wutznu :: poetry :: photos ::


:: prev :: next ::

"Meaningless!" he said
"It's all meaningless!"

For he was looking for someone,
someone to listen,
someone to validate,
hoping that somehow,
in finding a way to express
his quiet desperation,
his hopeful discontent,
some cosmic force would move on his behalf
and make it all disappear...

We are sheltered from the evil
most of the time,
living in immense wealth,
thumbing our noses at the truth
in the name of tolerance
and diversity,
what a lark!

Like children,
given the choice between bread and candy,
we have gorged ourselves
beyond the capacity to know what is beneficial
or good
or right.

"In those days there was no king,
each man did what was right in his own eyes."

He studied history
of kings and such
to try to understand himself.

He read the things
his peers were writing
to try to find his place.

He listened to the left,
and the right,
and in the end
found that neither was completely sincere
or genuine,
but then neither was he.

He looked on his own history
in full realisation
that the mind paints it more colourful
than it really was.

He felt like
the last piece,
but for the wrong puzzle,
a lost foreigner,
in strange garb,
who can't speak the language,
not superior,
nor inferior,
just outside
walking on the surface of the bubble,
looking in,
waiting (or hoping) for it to pop,
nothing admirably peculiar,
nothing interestingly eccentric
nothing endearingly brilliant
just nothing.

© 2003 (17 october) john r. chase