Faithful Ignorance

Faithful Ignorance 

It's when we ignore

All the noise swarming 

Around our full heads,

That hope might come blessing.

When we make the choice 

To take up only

What we might handle,

And take it up boldly...

We live in a state

Of some ignorance,

But one that is come to

From a weak inference...

They say, God helps those

That will help themselves,

But punishes those

Who make gods of themselves...

And it is a hope

That inspires us

To try to take hold 

Of what might save us... 

In faithful ignorance 

We may find bravery,

And some success with it.

If God takes up his part,

And we leave space for it.

Crystal Clear

Crystal Clear

It's so crystal clear

And ready to shattter. 

Just one thoughtless move

And nothing will matter.

Like well floated glass

That's pure but not annealed;

A view that's pristine,

But one bird and it's cracked.

Or slowly made ice

That is too thin to hold.

You can see the fish,

But one step it can't hold.

It is natural:

We love the crystal clear,

But it can't protect 

Anything we hold dear.

Our lives: organized.

Our beliefs: curated.

Beautiful and fragile.

And when they shatter:

Dangerous and jagged.

You, Made 'Art'

You, Made 'Art'

You feel like the world is watching. 

And if it isn't, 

You think it's because you are failing. 

Because it all seems like a game

That you have to win... 

Because winning gives you that fame.

With fame comes the admiration,

(To fill the big hole.) 

With it, you have validation. 

All the chaos that makes you you,

Cut down to be framed.

All that doesn't fit, can't be true.

You tear your complex self apart.

With the things you keep,

You make a kitschy piece of 'art.'

Art is what makes life worth living.

It 'entertains' and 'satisfies.'

Everyone can be an 'artist.'

Everyone is 'art' in their own eyes.

Our Common Futures' Sake

Our Common Futures' Sake

Debates are hot and heavy,

And so fragmented.

We want to argue it all out,

And have it justly weighed.

The weighing of pros and cons,

Well regulated.

Guided by 'logic' and 'The Facts.'

Fairly adjudicated. 

Yet, logic is not foolproof.

Facts are not settled.

Both rely on authority,

On which we are not agreed.

So what path can we take now?

What authorities?

How can we choose foundations, 

By which to judge all these pleas?

We must confront the chaos 

That arises from:

Brute individuality 

And groups following a drum.

A balance between the two,

These two bad extremes;

Cooperation that transcends 

All these polarized dreams.

On what path will we find it?

What road can we take?

What can lead us to compromise,

For our common futures' sake?

Hands

 Hands

It is easier for me to write
By hand.
More difficult to type...
Has always been.
But that is easier for others to read,
What I type than what I write.

But writing comes from my hand.
Yes, from the hand opposite my heart.
But, still a more unified motion.
More than fingers poking it out
Individually.

Tokens:
In to or out of, a vector space
Or, in my hand
At the metro stop
Both are useful
But always a leveling down
To a common
More simple
Denominator

A square of code
In black and white
Is not as consistent
Or reliable
As a plastic penny
(A possible plectrum)
In my hand

Pound's Cantos:
They are also impressive
But I can't always (or ever)
Grasp them in my mind's hand.

Our hands
As a whole
Maybe our first unique tools...
(That opposable thumb!)

What do we lose
When we leave them behind?
For digits
a hand divided
And then...
As digits
Only in silicone?

And where is the heart in that?

Words

Words

When words pass through lips

All too often--

And without a thought--

Meanings soften.

Like the unkept soles

Of shoes well used,

The words get worn thin:

Battered and bruised.

Rubbed: run through fingers.

Coins lose faces,

Becoming smooth, thin...

Useless tokens.

Words pushed out in posts...

Shared thoughtlessly,

Or generated...

By little chips,

Just as thoughtlessly.

Nothing of substance

Or importance 

Comes into being 

When words...

    Lack thought 

    Lack thickness 

    Lack their markings

    Lack weight and meaning 

Fake

Fake

When you "Fake it

'till you make it"

You have in fact,

Broken it.

It is hollow;

You are shallow.

They have been fooled

By the show.

When they are fools,

The system fails.

You have undone 

The prize you 'won.'

Better to fail...

Then fail better.

Become better...

To break the scale.