A Human Condition (Poem)

 

We all have days

When we want to hide away.

To shimmy one’s mind

Down a cozy chimney.

To turn soul into soot.

To be blackened into

The substance of the bricks.

To not be conscious of anything

Except the solidity of stone.

The scattered ash of cleansing fires.

 

We all have days

When we want to hide away.

To jump in the river

And drown.

(Goodnight, Irene.

Goodnight).

When we want to hop on a boxcar

And head to God’s land — No Where Land.

When we want to feel only

the immaculate fullness of nothing.

 

We all have days

When we want to hide away.

Because being human,

is to know the suffering

Of mortality drenched in the famine of hope.

Of the flesh’s submission to the conveyor belt of time.

Of real, painful strings attached to illusory things.

Things which will fade, like the rose or the sun

Or this withering page, drenched in a light not yet cold.

Yes, we all have days. You are not alone.

 

COPYRIGHT 2019. Tylor James.

Featured image artwork by Edward Foster: http://www.edwardfosterart.co.uk/art-work/the-human-conditions/

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