the day after I lost my mind

the day after I lost my mind

Reading Genesis 

watching the stars in the sky

I saw six days 

bookended by 

matching nights,

to look out 

at the black blank expanse of space 

and give it light

is a bar set too high,

but I had to try;

a teacher taught

a student 

with a will to work beyond the lesson,

but even 

with all the self-determination in the world 

there’s still one ingredient missing,

you can try 

with all your might 

young gun,

but tell me what’s the use

if you won’t know 

when you’ll be done?

You’ve gotta give yourself time to think,

this day is almost 

a carbon copy,

but listen closely 

it's as a pop song 

whose lyrics are heard clearly,

it took a cover version

to give it another look,

without the bullshit

it’s almost as if now 

when the words can be heard

the true picture can be seen.

A meeting at the bar

too far from center

but close enough,

scotch on ice

with a toast,

go in for a kiss,

but Judas missed;

to see a man have a dream

means one of two things: 

salute the time spent lonely

or get mean,

I mean real mean.

Steinbeck had a line

about life and time,

a hypothesis to propose

that this moment

was made for eternity;

overpopulation 

a non issue

when we walk amongst the dead,

to die and be born again

is the philosophy 

of religion,

but to take one look at this life

and I wouldn’t know

if any of us 

actually believed.

A female Russian writer in America

during the 1920’s,

two books,

a couple plays,

and a name that’s still remembered today;

could you shrug it off

if you continued to play,

but the ball bounced the other way?

Great expectations 

are what it takes,

but could I reveal a secret and share 

that no one knows 

what tomorrow holds.

She had a book of poems by her side,

two tables became one

as time began to coincide,

it’s hard to write 

about the one 

on your side,

as if current existence 

is unable 

to be defined.

And then it was morning,
yesterday gone,

tomorrow not quite here,

life reduced down

to the sound

of fingers on keys,

I’ll add an apostrophe

when I say

the only thing we can change

is ourself 

in this life built on today’s.