“Mindless Beast”

“Mindless Beast”

Have you lost your mind?  Well, it’s not so natural.

Something inside that head of yours makes me

fall like a pile of bricks since all this is happening

to you.  People doubt what’s on their mind

and have nothing to show for it except for

their eyes, which can’t be witness, can’t

be light out of significance for departure into

the vast space of the universe.  There’s no

picture in the frame left!  The exact clue isn’t

in the source to be founded but instead

finds close quarters next to a windowsill like

a caterpillar without a name.  Vision only goes

as far as it does; we need the screen, a tube.

Funny things go on while the world sits.  How

may you join them in absence of internal possession?

Fruit gets richer in a bowl somewhere between the shades.

A fine thread of hair keeps the reflection out of tune

for spacious skies around us.  And yet, there’s no

head in there.  What’s happened to my frame?

Pictures need to be held by the individual bolts,

those very, exact bolts needed on a spectrum of joy

for all of us.  Still I can’t find where you are.  In

fact, you’re far away, reading this plea while my back

is turned and it bothers me.  Don’t the mountains share

the curves back at our end towards freedom and justice?

Just to think: crawling away, putting it to the pen, out

of discovery for the hanging picture on no mind for it.

Witness?  Hey, you’ve only been like others.  People

need to spread out like butter or else the treat isn’t

deserved on recognition by the virtue of redemption.

We can only act kind enough.

I see something in the picture you’re getting at.

The mind, the consciousness, is seen as an animal,

a void, an abstraction of justice rather than light.

Oh it does take one’s right away from such bliss of

attention span.  Dreams are no longer built in you.

If anything, even reality isn’t real.  A temporary guess

becomes the permanent fountain of youth until

the body’s passing away keeps the chance alive.

Nothing is short of the matter- there’s enough heat and

tension across the universe for your sake of discipline, or,

rather, the lack thereof.  It’s an opposite end of

bothersome light.  The darkness, the eternal space of space,

churns against the moments on end until even

the owned ghost keeps itself on a shade after light,

kind of like rights beyond rights, wherever dissolution

interrupts the entry and withholds your transgression back.

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mindless-beast/