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TOLERABLE OBLIVIONS


 
 
 
the bus growled on
     opposite me  
from all i can tell
     a long haired scientist  
and his lover sit  
     holding hands  
while reading  
     occasionally whispering  
private things  
     quietly into  
each others ears
     in a fashion you  
might see in france  
     romantic french  
secrets perhaps
     though i would suspect  
they are probably  
     only sharing  
comparative theories  
     and analytic opinions
  
seemingly joined  
     at their hips  
and ribs as one
     in their somewhat  
crass and oblivious  
     public display  
of intellectual intimacy  
     wholesome  
in a mirrored  
     sort of way  
i guess  yet still  
     somewhat stale  
in their bonded  
     completion  
and in the way  
     they strive  
to sustain  
     their public  
illusion  of near  
     perfect  idyllic  
contentment
 
     aloof in an aura  
of sturdy confidence  
     remote and  
clinically insular  
     presenting a dull  
bored air  to all here  
     in this bus  
around them  
     as if life will not  
truly begin again  
     until they can  
get back into  
     their research labs  
and computers  
     to wrap their minds  
around all that  
     endless data  
 
their private  
     conversation  
of whispers  
     sounds to me  
like an intentional  
     vehicle out of  
this moment  
     as if  now  
and being  
     on this bus  
are only a tolerable  
     oblivion  
where they seem  
     to be successfully  
staying  just ahead  
     of themselves  
 
but of course
     i realize here  
that despite all my  
     unspoken opinions
and ungrounded
     wild assumptions  
these thoughts  
     and impressions  
may only be  my  
     peculiar observations  
and unfounded  
     misjudgments  
based only on  
     appearances
 
the bus stops  
     momentarily  
at a red light  
     my eyes casually  
drift beyond  
     the couple
out the window  
     behind them  
to focus upon  
     a large painted  
mural  on a nearby  
     restaurants wall  
where i gaze out  
     transfixed  
at its larger than  
     life size image  
of a tropical waves  
     perfect form  
and color  flawlessly  
     peeling over  
a shallow  coral reef
  
     such sacred  
moments still fill  
     mesmeric corners  
of my distant  
     memories  where  
even as now  
     its as if  
i am there  
     though only  
in my mind
 
     then it  
momentarily  
     occurs to me  
am i not also  
     a scientist  
displaced in  
     my daydreams  
sudden distraction  
     and am i not  
also  sitting here  
     in my own  
little  private  
     inner world
unwittingly  
     presenting a dull  
bored air  
     to all here  
in this bus  
     around me  
as if life  
     will not truly  
begin again  
     until i can  
get back out
     on my surfboard  
on a wave  
     in the ocean
  
suddenly  i notice  
     in my own  
inner thoughts  
     here in this  
private conversation  
     with myself  
that i too  
     sound like an  
intentional vehicle  
     out of this moment  
as if now and  
     being on this bus  
are only a  
     tolerable oblivion  
where i also  
     seem to be  
successfully staying
     just ahead  
of myself  
 
     but of course
i realize here  
     once again
that despite  
     all my unspoken  
opinions and
     ungrounded  
wild assumptions  
     these thoughts
and impressions  
     may only be  
my peculiar  
     observations  
and unfounded  
     misjudgments  
based only  
     on appearances
          
though presently
     here  its hard  
to tell for sure  
 
     for what equation  
do i hold  
     within my  
cellular knowledge  
     of that turquoise  
and emerald  
     symmetrically  
imploding  
     translucent  
liquid  hollow mother  
     phenomena
 
am i too  not  
     a god   forgotten  
and even in  
     this brief memory  
of lucid  personal
     experience  
does not the truth  
     of a privileged  
child  still yet  
     exist in me
and am i  
     this child  
in one derment  
     still not a  
sacred child  
     of this living  
universe  once so    
     blissfully lost  
in its whirling  
     gods eye  
liquid wombs  
     and only  
just now  slowly  
     remembering  
that i am   still  
     its transcendent  
heartbeat  
     momentarily
at least  refound  
     an integral part  
of the very  
     essence  of its  
cosmic soul
     a mere fiber  
presently torn out  
     of its ineffable  
weave  cast down  
     here into this bus  
getting slightly  
     carried away  
perhaps  in my  
     way too vigorous  
inner thoughts  
     yet whose spirit  
still beats as  
     wildly as ever  
with its pure  
     raw  passionate  
lust  for such  
     a reunion  
at last  with  
     this living  
universe  again  
     or in the  
very least  perhaps  
     more meaningful  
time  with the sea
    
     different  in a  
mirrored sort of  
     way  i guess  
though still somewhat  
     stale in my  
unbondaged  
     incompletion  
and in the  
     way i strive  
to sustain  
     my own public  
illusion of  
     discontentment  
hyper alert  
     in an aura  
of somewhat unstable  
     confidence  
remote and  
     naturally insular
    
rethinking these  
     strange thoughts  
and in noticing  
     these things  
i suspect and
     realize  yet again
that despite  
     all my unspoken  
opinions and
     ungrounded
wild assumptions  
     these thoughts  
and impressions
     may only be  
my peculiar  
     observations  
and unfounded  
     misjudgments  
based only  
     on appearances
 
this couple  
     on the bus  
still both occasionally  
     glance over  
at me here
     where i am  
at least a little  
     more conscious  
now  that i too  
     am projecting a dull  
bored air  to all  
     here on this  
bus around me  
     as if life  
will not truly  
     begin again  
until i can  
     get back out
on my surfboard
     on a wave  
in the ocean
 
     then i begin  
to wonder  just  
     what is really  
going on here
     beyond the mere  
surface appearance  
     of things
could this perhaps
     possibly be  
some sort of  
     subtle  social game  
of who can project  
     the most effective  
air of dull boredom                
     or is it only me  
and my overly  
     twisted imagination
acting up again
 
     still  despite
and beyond
     the fact of  
all my unspoken  
     opinions and
ungrounded  
     wild assumptions
all these thoughts
     of my peculiar  
observations and  
     unfounded  
misjudgments
     based only on
appearances here
     the bus growls on    
into and through
     this present  
tolerable oblivion
     further on into  
the ever mysterious  
     grand  sublime  
continuum  in a  
     seemingly  
never ending  
     convolution  
of appearances      

OyateInyanNajin
Written by OyateInyanNajin
Published | Edited 5th Feb 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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