William Fischer

William Fischer Sep 2013

i slept
  for twenty years and then awoke to wonder why.

i fell asleep for twenty more,
  awoke, let out a sigh,

then slept again for thirty five more years.
  now here i lie,

a man who slept my whole whole life through, i lay awake
  to die.

William Fischer Feb 2013

Untitled

Take a sip, my dear, this tonic brings
about a deeper sleep and brighter dreams,
  and in the morning light when you awake
      life's song shall sing anew,
      and dawn will bring to you
  a freedom from your fright, from your mistake,
and yes, the ache that tears from you your soul
shall drift away, and almost leave you whole.

William Fischer Feb 2013

The world isn't ours.

You're not your body.
You're not your mind.
You're not your own,
and you are not mine

I'm not my heart,
my fleeting mirth,
my hidden tears,
my death, my birth.

We're not the world's
and it's not ours.
We can not own
the earth and flowers.
We can't sell the groves of trees,
we can't buy the land and seas.

Yet our hands build cities,
and our hands spill blood.
Our greed yields envy
while our hearts seek love.

Let us hope
that someday, we
can let it go
and simply be.

I've found myself in a place of supreme peace recently, and it came from the realization that nothing is really ours. Even our bodies, minds and thoughts are simply tools we can sharpen and use to some purpose, but they aren't ours. They're just close to home. Then it becomes clear that this box of tools is calling the shots, drawing the blueprints of our lives, my tricking us into thinking we are the tools themselves, and we get caught up in this cycle of endless wants, this attachment to possessions because we somehow think that identifying with property will make us happy. None of that's true.

What's left when all those things disappear, and we've nothing left to own? Love and compassion. Everything else is just an instrument to spread that love.

William Fischer Jan 2013

Human

The great oak doesn't wonder
  what it means to be a tree.
It simply grips the earth
  and reaches boldly to the sky.

The water simply flows
  to seek reunion with the sea.
Be it a river or a creek,
  it doesn't stop to question why.

What, then, am I?

William Fischer Dec 2012

Hearts, antiques, and other broken things

What is lovely in a world
of splintered wood and faded golden rings,
stained glass and tarnished silver,
hearts, antiques, and other broken things?

What may have been discarded in the past
Now shines to brilliantly to perish,
not alone in longing to be loved
and dying to be cherished.

William Fischer Dec 2012

looking for answers

when I looked for answers
   you said to be careful
   you said that my faith
was in peril when questioned
you mentioned
   that my "search for truth" was in error
   that all that awaits
is a terrible lesson
you said without God
   there can be no forgiveness
   that evil within us
would go unabated
you stated
   that people were eager to live in
   an unashamed place
that was morally vacant

your liqueur stenched breath
poured past dark yellow teeth
thick with cigarette stains
and your eyes full of grief
as you pleaded with me
to be careful
when I looked
for answers

William Fischer Dec 2012

Remedy

ingredients:
  - a piece of chocolate,
  - a shooting star,
  - unbridled passion,
  - unbroken hearts,
  - undying love,
  - hopeful ideals,
  - eternity,
      if this is real.

crush into a fine powder,
encase in a dissolving capsule.

take one at the onset of meaninglessness.

the heart aches,
    the pain erodes.
  the joy remains,
       the warmth turns cold.

and then you discover
that what you thought was a panacea
was only an anesthetic.