Specimens of another kind of art


Dear self, do not fail (to write poems)
For this was your unity
Between both worlds

Work and the business of living
And the sudden onslaught of the beyond
You had a taste for
Something transcendent

In the brief symbols you uttered
In fact they reflected off of you
Dear self, if you are able to do so

Love that lingering in other worlds
For this world has its futile narratives
It’s not enough to sustain you
For sustenance is finally spiritual

Moral, ethical and fundamentally
A question of relating to the future
And to not believe in the future

Would be a kind of nilhism not conducive
To peace, freedom or creativity.

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