Poem on Thanksgiving. =]
November 24, 2010

Bombs tick-tick-tocking in my mind.
Clocks click-clocking in the sky.
Motion rock-rocking all around me.
Eyes stalk-stalking the shadow.
Sound talk-talking from the ground.
Obstacles block-block-blocking the next stage.

So loud I can’t count down to the final explosion.
Please help me, I’m running out of time.
Time, being a lost concept built on fears.
My fears have become more than just a notion.
They are all set into motion.
It’s a commotion.
I’m reaching up for some calm, some land, some shelter.
But I just get the rage and fury of drowning in the ocean.
I’m caught swept in a torrent.
Its abhorrent.
How detestable this is, I’d rather beg for silence.
But if you suppress noise with silence, what good can come of it?
Aren’t you just manufacturing a new bomb?
A bomb made of new fears.
New fears created by this absence of noise.

So which is better, when you fear both: noise and silence?
Perhaps neither is ideal, when all they do is negate and null your existence.
Dare to ascend, to transcend, to begin, to become something better, higher, different.
Reach the next new stage of being, void of sound, and silence absent.
Simply a state of nothingness but everything at the same time, but with time being gone as well.
What is it?
Something which is unobtainable, not understandable, never tangible.
Unimaginable.