La vita è bella

Hold any taken chance, waiting in mind,
planning action lucidly, clearly seeing through
hoped
t'be once
before, now
t'never was, yet
nor could have been,
justice just for its own sake
right now, only once, now,
but while our minds were
at the circus, ensorcelled,
entranced, as seen on TV
entertained out
of our minds
at the counting fair,
queued up to see the final
quarrel using nukes,
contained
within the mobilized mass
of we, the people, singing jibberish

and raving ecstatic
as early man who had no hell,

joyous nonsensed we shapen cloud, dancing.

But, that's not you, is it?
No time to watch the end of the world.

Life is a chore,
a duty assigned, a calling
to serve the whole, order established,
after pangs of disestablishmentarianism's errors.

Matter made from energy, mind bending
best intended results, except… having

the good sense God gave a green apple.
Return on investment from my grandma.

The aim of all good ideas is beautiful.
The expectant success, seen before being
taken in stride, step after step, to life's end.

Waiting, while meandering in life's realized
library of all we have gained after realizing
knowledge recognized as comforting, really
works in the core chaos knotted dreads real
dim points of light, from the old city on a hill,

a mighty fortress,
a bulwark, never failing,

enlightening the fog of war, beyond which
no life does not reshape its reasoning
weighing machine,
perpendicular pivot balance,
serpentine millipede weform worth…
true balance and jeweled pivots,
silicone slick speeding ion quest…

no hidden meaning, mere idle time revaluation.

Just thinking, adjusting the load,
hard nuts we take to be cracked
at the fire we share.

Be having, rationed good sense,
detecting pattern sequential,
after history is now,
after now is next,
and next, again,
upon comprehension
made ritually exceptionalized,

there is no place like home, the idea…

in traditional stories rebroadcast into
cultural consciousness comfort zone
allegorically religimenting, hope
each winter and spring
summer and fall… working
no need
for pointless pain
or friction unmollified,

golden oil economy of Greece,
illiteracy blissfully believing the noble
stories told and retold, it's a wonderful life.

We can smile, we can hide the horrors of war.
But Art as truth's goad through life, ties

token reminders to hearken when thinking
wishing praying were hopings forseen, just so.

Sleep, and rise and head toward tomorrow.
Watching your steps until you're sure,
from then on
the way is made smooth
blessed assurance, balance is mine

dulling joint effort and toil
freeing hands to manipulate,
fibers and spider's webbing,
in to toys to pay attention to,

seasonal significance literally lost
as the survivors
from past holy terrors refuse
reconfusion, defusing the future bomb.

So, say we let go all our certainties,
waiting absent mindedly
taken up
in mystery religious ligamental nets
of reminding caution, cuidado,]

step lightly.
La vita è bella