Who is watching us?
How far does the chain go?
As we look at bacteria with a microscope,
As a child looks at a small bug with a magnifying glass,
Who is watching us?
Are we the bugs under the magnifying glass to others?
Sometimes I wonder
If such a thing is a possibility.
Will anyone ever know for sure?
Do the bugs under the magnifying glass or the bacteria under the microscope know we are watching them?
Or do they go on with there lives unknowing of our presence?
Are we as unknowing as them?
Who is really at the end of the magnifying glass?
I am not examining your flaws
Nor restraining you with obstruction of laws
But you seem to believe you've broken something
Becoming troubled and overcome
I hold no Gavel
Not even an ill thought
Time is forever changing
Our rights and our wrongs
You have not been sentenced
Nor are you judged
I only require patience
and a natural flow of occurrence
Stop fighting the current and let go
The sands may shift
but that's something we cant control
I have lost something
It is still alive out there,
in the infinity
of objects untenable
I heard it call my name
as my eyelids finally found each other.
This absence knows me too well.
It won't let me
take my mind
off my mind.
If I could only measure
like my strength, then
I would know who
I really am;
and, I suppose, sleep
Alas, I've found
I can't wander
as easily as my mind.
I wish to float
and other discussions just as grave.
How can I
keep my enemies
A book once said
self-reproach is a
I never read that book,
it surely read
Lately when I wander I step on shards of glass
I don't know where they came from or how long this will last
I take them out in pieces and place them in a jar
A puzzle to be figured out once I'm up to par
Meanwhile in my pocket rests a blackened frame
A trinket with a handle that's making me feel sane
I grip it with my fingers and hold it in my palm
And give these eyes a cover with my own salty balm
A gift I once received so I could go explore
It took away my fear to walk through any door
By it I saw clearly, my vision was repaired
Until I dropped it on the ground and thus became impaired
He tells me to walk backwards and trust my every step
My memory will guide me as long as I will let
Now I don't mind the piercings from the shards I pass
My grandpa mapped his life with this magnifying glass
Let’s not go chasing ants today.
The grass is gone
And dirt won’t burn anyway.
Why not get to work with me
And let your memory go out to the yard to play?
Let’s stay away from the familiar doors
And antique halls
Whose windows open only to walls, anyway.
Let’s ditch the dollhouse unopened,
Still in the box.
You and I have business in the life-sized world.
Bin the old plastic flags,
Still furled in bags, let them go to the ground
In triangles over G.I. Joe caskets.
Stuff your red lunchbox with as many
Kens and Barbies as you can
And let’s bury them in someone else’s playpen.
We should burn that old forest down
Where we used to do magic,
So no one can cut down the trees
And make planks or papers -
Because it would be a bitch to find them,
(Not to mention climb them) but
I suppose you can’t go torching forests.
Chuck that cigarette in the bushes.
Maybe something will catch.
the Sun's unknowing
pain; Capturing wonderment
The unknowable Star
kissing the Earth
birthing her descendants,
magnifying her Beauty
with maniacal ciphering
of experimental earnestness