In Bloom (poetry)

Things run away, can’t find them

Yet  we remember, long, and despair their loss

Maybe one day the lost are found again

But does their reoccurrence make peace

With the sorrow when they were departed?


A flower in first bloom

That sign of regeneration

Sublime and terrible

Poignant sign of the constant regeneration

The cyclical re-enchantment of our universe

Coupled with all those past nirvana’s

The faded pedals from seasons past

Fallen to the ground, decayed, and now dust

Reminder of the fragility of life, and, ultimately, its passing

Heart wrenching: our fallibility

Heartwarming: our potential

Yet, now, in the season of our bloom,

What do we make of it?

What does it mean to be in season?

Feeling these first pulls of gravity on our branch

Knowing that no longer we grow


All we are is the vibrant color we were destined to be

Here, and now

This mode of perfection we’ve striven towards

And again

And again

What do we make of it

What is it to be here, and now?

To have this potential

This potential that is the meaning of our lives


Here I am, now, typing at a laptop

Just as you, yourself, are somewhere

Not here, not near, but real

Young and still vibrant

Reading and watching those people who were once like us

Seasons past, faded, and failed

It will never strike us

States our hearts

While our subconscious mind moves the boundary

Of where success lies


Into the nether lands of the easily attainable

The low hanging fruit that have been picked clean

Maybe there is still a little nectar left

But we could have ascended new summits!

To use this momentum given to us by gods graces

This momentum that is a universal gift

Shared by you, me, and the other

To metamorphose, to grow wings, to fly

There once, once upon a,

Upon a something

A belief that YES, it is attainable




And now

That we are in bloom

The reality of our downfall

Our  eventual decline: fall to the ground, decay, and then dust



Hanging over our completed ascension

Yes, I can see the future

We over-ripen: drop at our peak

Accomplishing only those things

That were to be the subject within our destinies story

On the road to something greater



Or something

Don’t trust these monologues

Brains frazzled, disconnected and afraid

Looking for poignancy and romance

Looking for a reason

Yes, to accept failure

But there can only be the aesthetic or the real

Rarely does a man find both

The failure of this poem

And a life without passionate words

Comes with the gift of rapture in the waking world

No one may learn the secret colors of this, my private mind

But what is wrong if it is only I who have the pleasure of their revelation

To swim deeply in those waters I aspire to communicate

To share is noble

To hoard is selfish

But if I hoard

I get more of these dreamtime fantasies I wish to propagate

Staying in the reservoir of my own soul

Fuck any god who may despair at my case

Beauty is what I crave

My beauty is mine

And mine alone


Or something

Is this the truth?

My mind feels no revelation

This is not what feels real

Just another layer of fallacy

Another satellite

Orbiting the truth

Never coming closer on its gravitational arc

Yet, not so far away from my nucleus

Maybe an intelligent man

Could find the measure of me

Using this disparity of my lies

But I am no such man

And I tell you,

It is not worth your time in bloom

To try to understand me

Rather, delve into your own mind

Those waters with endless depth


Better yet,

Make that art that must be real

That personally,

I am to imperfect to truly grasp


Or something

Yes, that is something

This feels real

Something to sink my teeth in

To devour


Again, it is not all true

Help me

help me

To be that man that I still want to be

To escape this disorganized cycle

Arrogance and despair

Despair and arrogance

Take away self worth

Realize you are nothing

An ant has the same validity

From the perspective of the closest star

As whatever our greatest accomplishments may be


It is true

Dark, dark, dark

The truth is dark

Yesterday and today,

Yet for tomorrow

May we look towards the future

That blank page

Those unchartered shores,

May we persevere together

Fight these waves

Illusion, delusion

Yet, partially,

Overwhelmingly real

May we fight like men

Men still in our prime

Gifted with the same natural virtues of our forebears

Perhaps more so

May we add to the litany

May we rise to the top of the peaks we idolize


And weep for

May we go there, and lay a thin sprinkling of dust

Adding nothing meaningful

Yet the same amount added as those before us

May we serve the future

No matter how imperfectly

Give them a fresh layer,

Imperceptibly higher,

Yet still, microscopically, a higher vantage point

And if it fails to sate,

A thin excuse for a noble life

Our effort will not be in vain

Perhaps that light dusting we laid

Will be the final critical layer

Or close to that critical layer

That will raise our descendants

To that fantastic revelation

That nirvana all dreams are made of

Where they will be lifted from the darkness

And for the first time

The very first time

See that ethereal  light of truth

In all her glory

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