With a picked white rose and a striding pose,
Heading towards cliffs with unsuspecting shifts,
Making more mistakes that fill up wisdom lakes,
Learning a truth heading to a Fountain of Youth,
Forever falling head first into things that quench thirst,
For the wise know that the fools win the show.
This hair,
This youth,
This hand,
This body,
I can say goodbye to it.
But this flame?
This deep feeling?
This indescribable motion?
This being?
Must that really go out?
How can I say goodbye to that?
When it is the very thing saying goodbye.
Only to itself.
Someday.
A goodbye.
What an insane thing you really are…
Crude matter pretending to be something you are not…
Well I suppose you are those things…
You are all those things…
I am made of all the other things too…
I am all those other things…
Or was those things…
But still am those things rearranged…
I was once an exploding star…
I was once a dinosaur toe…
I was cow shit…
A blade of grass…
Wind passing over a meadow…
And now look at me!
Or you?
A person sitting in a living room…
Writing poetry!
Believing that I am something separate…
That I am some man named John…
And what will I be next?
Will my spirit live on?
Is my spirit born of my matter?
Or is my matter born of my spirit?
Or are they something separate altogether?
Will my matter become something else?
Oh, you, all this universal stuff…
All this dancing matter of stuff…
All these strange masks of identity you wear…
Tree…
Rock…
Alex…
Alexandra…
President…
Peasant…
Who are you, Mr. Universe?
You are fucking crazy…
That is what you are!
We are all just fucking crazy like you…
Wearing our crazy masks of identity…
Playing this big game of pretend…
The most real game of pretend there is…
There is nothing else to do but play pretend…
Pretend to be something…
Pretend to be someone…
But we are Mr. Universe…
Or Mrs. Universe?
Doesn’t matter, does it?
Being all the same crazy stuff, that is.
“Surely, this! Surely, this is impending doom!” A minister let out a cry.
“What difference does it make?” A second asked. “In the end, we all die!”
A third minister butted in. “Let’s just fake it! The king should surely lie…”
“Why are we trying so hard?” A fourth pondered. “Everyday we should just eat pie!”
The first minister protested again. “It is the end, I say! Our certain doom!”
The second minister added. “This king says nothing as these crises loom!”
The third minister laughed. “Remember when we were in charge of this room?”
The fourth pondered further. “Not the right time to suggest cake, I assume?”
The king just watched from his dais as all his ministers argued,
He said absolutely nothing in this seemingly urgent minister feud,
This king was simply observing with an acquiescent attitude…
As the ministers’ problems mostly vanished when the king didn’t conclude.