Simple Holes

My grandfather gave me a compass
A directionless vessel of venture
A capital of egocentric world-building
A usèd knowledge of debenture

For it never point to the north
NOR south
NOR east
NOR west

It Spun
 and it Spun and it Spun and it Spun
Round and round the needle went
Never settling on a horizon to cross
Creating an infinite vinyl record of-

It had lost its magnetic touch
Its magic that pulled the earth together
Creating a smaller system of sanity

He said that it pointed for tomorrow
A better world than when it entered
I knew not what he meant
But meaning was existent none-the-less

Generations pass
Histories pass
A cyclical nature of cyclonic nomenclature
Passing is assumed to be a timed venture

But a moment has no specified time
It has no limit
No rotation multiplication
No nullification of human adoration
No station from which it stands in modulation
No existence beyond insanity

Repeated actions, events, people
Is what defines our nature
The only thing living that sees true passing is nature

A spinning ideal of human importance

Why would the basis of life care if a single cell disappeared into the long night?

Short answer - it would not

Long answer - it would not

There are not creations from a part that can describe the whole.
A world can be grand and grandiose, but a country cannot define it.

Any yet here I sit
and I sit and I sit and I sit

Waiting for the words of others to define what I see.

My communicative web is woven
My communal concentration is broken

Never try to explain the inexplicable, for the unknown will come to end your
                                                                              history.