I want to get back
because it’s dark again…
it gets dark
every single day
around strangely changing similar times.
But I’m stupid to want,
because I embrace the dark
in some blissful reverie
that finds two eyes
staring back in contemptuous bewilderment.
So I get back,
and get down
with it.
I find myself
mesmerized by the mysterious quantitative
that surrounds entirety.
It’s something
more than the self-
destructive delight
that I find makes life oddly livable for now.
I am the best thing you've never heard of.
I hold a Bachelor's in English, History and Secondary Education, and a Master's in English: Creative Writing, though my appearance belies intelligence.
My goal in life is to write and to be read. It's a modest stretch by most imaginations.
To most I'm amazing.
It all depends on your definition of literary merit.
All poems contained on this blog are ©Thomas Boersma unless otherwise noted.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Poem-A-Day: Day 12
Meditation’s Fifth
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