Post Poetry, episode 2, The Sight Merchant
Channel: The Mind That Writes
Date: 2019-09-08

Poem link: http://apollo-songs.blogspot.com/2019/06/the-sight-merchant.html
Poem video: https://youtu.be/QvTfzM8KKD0

The Sight Merchant



'Hey, psst, come here
I have some sight to sell
Anything you ever wanted, desired, thought of
All here in plain sight
You might want to check it out.'

'I'll have some.'

'Best of luck my friend.'


nothing will be
nothing is 
nothing was

in the absence of thought I fought against myself
I have lost and I have won an entry ticket
to the protest where I picket against will
to power, will to be; only to realise the absurdity
of claiming certainty where I am not

in the absence of knowledge I have come to know
that a fistful of earth inside my hand is no different
than a fist full of death, dead or alive becomes irrelevant
in the Great Movement of Nature ready to recycle matter

in the absence of light the mirror does not reflect
nor do my eyes, blind, useless, without a purpose
waiting for a tiny spec, a tiny strand to explode into a revelation
that births consciousness, shattering bliss for an unfair trade
meaning -  searching for it away from the source

in the absence of reality I dream of an absence from dreams
where I no longer need form, colour, shapes, patterns,
to organise the orchestra of metaphors, words, ideas
playing the symphony of being somewhere you desire
to belong - don't be long reality, wake me up to you
alone, all one in your eyes - complete, whole 
ready to vibrate my vocal chords into a roar that shatters
you - the cycle is complete

in the absence of the abstract  I decay as I move forward
or stand still, a skeleton dressed in organs and flesh
holding a pen, coordinating movement under the directive
of the brain - one hand on the temple of complexity
that self propagates, infiltrates everywhere until the heart
stops beating, until electricity ceases to flow

thought, knowledge, light, reality, abstract
I ought to look over the ledge
see the Sun being lit into a ball of fire
act according to the pulse within a beat,
a rhythm that roots me into the ground
reaching, expanding towards the high beyond.