Fault-finding a weed—
a
fleeting high,
it drops to the earth,
a silent sound
deafening the mind,
plunging deep into the abyss.
Cannabis
in the guise of wanderers,
the wannabes, disobedient wind,
grass once green
fades to brown,
withered, dull, insipid.
A
stubborn trend—
spinning, endless,
circling from edge to edge,
never breaking,
never dawning anew.
One steps
back
looks at its importance
finding faults in others
takes us off the track
it’s meaningless
it’s meaningless.
The past holds nothing but
regret,
the future hides behind a veil.
we long for days we can’t forget,
yet fear the ones that lie in tale.
Beyond
the walls, in shadowed halls,
they taught us truths that were untrue.
we grasp at lies as reason falls,
denying all we truly knew.
The
place to be is here, not there,
the time to live is now, not when
or then; no yesterday nor fate elsewhere—
just this one breath, regaining again.
Too much hide and seek with now and here
kills us in time and space
we find and search ourselves nowhere
we live like the dead without mercy and grace.
Attractions
Repulsions
Appreciations
Humiliations
All distractions
From the attention
To God realisation.
