Oh, to go beyond the grasp,
the tangles that keep reminders alive,
there is the mystery of the mind,
what to turn off, what to feed, what to settle in,
so that moving forward seems a reliable
resolve to the repudiating repulsion of time.
Yes, without speaking in tangible terms,
leave it to the eyes to interpret,
disclose, determine in words,
what shall be thought to reserve judgment.
When standing on the street,
look into a man’s eyes,
is he relaxed, skeptical, terrible
in this seeming expression on a hot summer day.
While sitting in a local cafe,
she buried her face in paperwork,
a bomb goes off nearby and she doesn’t twitch,
for in our world we don’t feel explosions,
we only create war inside our brain,
that is the place we store the fuse, the powder keg,
the nuclear option to saving grace.
Oh, the notions of moving forward,
to know the right words,
to recognize complete action,
beyond simple presumptuous fiction.
How can a world determine,
when locked into the tenets of this
seemingly societal scrutiny,
to suggest the human condition,