They passed their misery around
And fueled it
Each affirmation was a drop
Of life in the seed’s turning
Into stem
There was no drama
As it floundered through
Into the the day
The most intimate impulse
As tune is to an artist’s mind
Or Mother is to brother is to sister child father
Is the strangest
Words echo with the emptiness
Between two parallel lives
Hurtling through the darkness
Of completion
All our lives we search
For something to complete us
Not realizing we came
In blazing; clanging with
The certainty of uncluttered curiosity
This brief spark, this ripple,
This brief note,
That is written with our without
our consents
Is nought
But a search for our beginnings

About teevramadhyam

'I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity' -Poe
This entry was posted in #poemaday, angryfix, epiphany, five words, Music, One Bad Day, poetry, the apocalyptic real, Uncategorized, vignettes, why?. Bookmark the permalink.

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