deepundergroundpoetry.com
Grave of Dust
Last month
I buried meditation
in a shallow grave of dust
on top of my bookshelf
Whatever I was searching for
only lasted a page or two
After 38 years of closed eye diving
and cool subtle breathing, I
think I forgot what I was seeking
Whatever it was, or is, or forever will be
was shy enough to elude the looking for it
Impossible to put out the light tonight,
though thoroughly drunk on futility - aren't
the biggest secrets usually found unlocked
and laying right in front of you?
Midnight long passed
and though I ache for steak
in my left hand, a cheese sandwich . . .
I buried meditation
in a shallow grave of dust
on top of my bookshelf
Whatever I was searching for
only lasted a page or two
After 38 years of closed eye diving
and cool subtle breathing, I
think I forgot what I was seeking
Whatever it was, or is, or forever will be
was shy enough to elude the looking for it
Impossible to put out the light tonight,
though thoroughly drunk on futility - aren't
the biggest secrets usually found unlocked
and laying right in front of you?
Midnight long passed
and though I ache for steak
in my left hand, a cheese sandwich . . .
Published 25th Jul 2013
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29th Jul 2013 10:56pm
I know what you mean. I stopped trying to 'become' and just settled for 'being'.' Interesting, introspective poem, and the last two lines were unexpected but welcome. No matter how rigorous the pursuit of mind, the stomach always gets the attention.
