Sunday, March 7, 2021

Riddle My Ashes Before Death ~ Sunday, March 7, 2021

The problem of metaphysics
is not
how to hammer a nail
into a wall,
even if the hammer
is broken,

perhaps a magician has tricks
hidden up her sleeves,
ready-to-hand, the hammer strikes
a nail into a plank of wood,
only to solve a problem is to sail
beyond the horizon,
bring me the truth, in the slammer
a prisoner knows her sentence,
little do we know why a hammer hits
better than a backhand,
engineer metal to roll light as racing bikes
up and down a mountain,
maybe to shoot billiards
atop a pool table,

of the fabric in green,
the texture smooth and soft,
fight against racism without using mere words,
the birds of sincerity laugh,

maybe to clean
the atmosphere,
enter the battle against teenage zits,
futile as climate change,
to solve homelessness, hunger, poverty,
as far back as antiquity,
ancient discussions to eradicate
diseases like bubonic plague and polio,
purchase a seat
for the insurance company,
how they have no faith in solemnity,
beyond Sunday, beyond profits,
yes, a cure for cancer
would offer no substantial benefits,
still, other problems would mark up the slate,
the blank slate of philosophy,
if we had no need for doctors to beat
in courts of law,
causation, moment by moment,
we find the roots to our problems,
subtle as Zen, question without answer,
we sit... lost in silent contemplation,

if enlightenment were easy,
all the boys would know your sister,
simple solutions create new problems,
like plastic in the sea,

no one knows the reason men are sleazy,
and follow women to explain their way,
old age, birth, illness, and death, all this stems
from understanding our psychology,
tragic, I can't touch my toes when my back is fully bent,
stiff or limber, language reflects the mirror of the mind.

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