A ceaseless motion
hither and yonder
like the jumbling of blind ants
in a narrow path
of wet pheromones.

Backbreaking labor
A cruel slaver
lashing his whip
that cracks painfully
drawing blood from the back
of the hapless wretch.

A joke that amuses no one
An insufferable itch
demanding to be scratched
so hard that it bleeds

Then in a moment
snuffed.

Asphyxiated and forgotten.

Is life this glass half full
Or half-empty?
Can we surmise from this riddle
An outlook that faithfully
represents reality?

To this, I say:
The glass and the water in it:
Both of them, matter
This we scientifically intuit
As composed of swirling particles
fleeting seemingly forever
In a dazzling quantum dance
It welcomes randomness,
enigma and chance

Mere objects subject
to rigid physical laws
Simplicity: the primary rule
From which we base
theoretical understanding
or risk becoming the fool.

And from this knowledge
beauty reveals itself
And agony and happiness
Both complicit to this
wonderful strangeness
For such is the magic that flows
from Chaos and Order
A blatant mistake it is
to reject one for the other.

Thus everything comes full circle
Positive appreciation cannot
exist without its negation.

Life is indeed a glass
half-full and half-empty
The world is truly a cruel place
Abounding with beauty.

The shape of a smile emerges
and the heart grows light
There is no need for applause
Nor praises
In this moment
I'm alive.

Such is the power of art
Its ability to set free
The long-suppressed yearnings
Of the grieving heart
In this melodious
Poetry.