A Rhapsody About the Pursuit of Truth

Wrote this last year in the middle of a bunch of stuff.


Don't know what I would do if it weren't for the life.
Lighting the way, one step at a time.
To the secret places, right before everyone's eyes.
You pass them every day,
and use them on your way, never knowing the very ground
on which your life is laid.
You see, but do you observe?
The secret passages are curious, tempting, addictive.
Exploring rabbit holes to infinity,
discovering creativity.
Can you find your way back
when all you see is black?
Do you know this space?
Is something on your face?
Your friends can't come to your quiet place.
Thinking "shortcuts in the underbelly", but the truth is in the feeling.
Just beneath the surface,
everything's inertial.
You see the light,
but nothing is right.
Next time you come, it'll be night.
Back on the surface you can hardly stand it.
This dude and that noose walking all over what was commanded.
You're not on the surface,
you're still swimming in subversion.
You'll never be the same,
you've seen from where it all came.
You'll carry it with you wherever you move.
The depth in your eyes is something too soon for the moos that presume they are made to be food.
You've exhumed the roots and brought them with you.
See, everything's fine as long as they continue to work for a dime, sell all their time,
and pretend that the momentary thrill of a shrill fake other life is the bottom line.
They'll see your tricks and thoughts
and be moved with emotion,
but when a change needs to be made,
it might as well be an explosion.
"It's about to collapse!",
but they clap at the calamity befalling your hat,
while the underbelly moves and shifts.
Things start to crumble,
the people stumble,
the humble fumble
and bumble their way.
Death, loss, might as well be moss.
They throw you on the pavement and tell you it's your fault,
"We told you not to go".
And it's all you can do not to slit their fucking throats.
If it weren't for you they would have never been warned,
and they have no idea what you've been doing to keep their families warm.
You've been doing a job no one wanted to do,
facing things alone you should've never gone through.
A part of you loved it, loved every minute,
but the world's on your shoulders when you're down in the pit.
You're in the most dangerous spot,
but it's nothing compared to being called what you're not.

You are right in the middle of everything, in a place nobody will ever be able to find. Not for those who see, but for those who observe. Not just for those who observe, but for those who explore. And not just those who explore, but those who discover.