Thursday, March 09, 2006

"A stroll"           [rubaiyat]

For a time   we become inconsolable
is each mood of the heart   bankrollable?
for a time we become absurd
for a time we become uncontrollable

The number of breaths is precise
        not one more nor one less
all the births & the deaths are done nice
        not one more nor one less
wherever you go   whomever you meet
        it will find you
karma plots every edit & splice
        not one more nor one less

Whoever may think they are free
        have got a think coming
those adrift on a thought-numbing sea
        have got a think coming
the child says "I"   the mother says "mine"
          with conviction
who believe in the fiction of "me"
        have got a think coming

The evening is pleasant   & so
        I go for a stroll
I smoke my cigar   as slow
        I go for a stroll
the puzzle of life is beyond me to solve
        at this moment
but something continues to tow
        I go for a stroll

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