First poem. It’s lengthy!

This is not my favourite poem but I think there are some moments in it. It is, like all of my work, somehow involved in romanticism and hopelessness. Unfortunately I have a habit of falling back onto this theme pretty frequently but what the poem talks about is the dilemma of existence and the constant struggle against the forces of the universe to become strong enough to withstand it. I wrote this when I was tired of fighting and I guess maybe I was just tired cos there is a lot I don’t like about it.

Perish The Thought.

Some days I sit by my window and stare out at the unfinished walls we create, at the entries and exits to our own fortresses of sadness, with windows sheathed in metal, too scared to let all our work be destroyed. While rats below look into the clouds and plant beanstalks in the shadow we’ve cast.

I like to think I could one day shut off my mind. That I could sit in verdant
fields and fill myself with nothing but satisfaction. That one day I will lay my emotions to rest with a single slash from the blade of wisdom.

Some days I simply lay with you and stare at the lines in the ceiling, connecting lines with every fine intersection creating a weave of cracks until I don’t know where the lines begin anymore. Until they flow into a wave that becomes a sea that I ride past pelicans and flounder, past fishermen and whalers, until I find the shore. A beach isolated by cliffs and the fears of men. Where I reach to find you once again and we lay together and stare into the sun. And we will stay until our silhouettes are burned into the sand.

Other times you turn your charcoal gaze into mine and we place our lips
forever gently on each other. Just enough to feel the blood passing from
one body to the next.

I want to believe that the person, experienced from the outside as a complete being, is not a lie. I want to believe that all those nervous impulses tracing your brain are more than just that, nervous impulses. I want to believe that the mind, created by the supernatural force of electricity, manifested through the vessel of the human form, and expressed in language, sound and movement is not just a grand illusion.

I desperately want to believe that our religious conceit is somehow
justified in the way we have created an entire consciousness evolved out
of pure animalistic freedom.

Most of the time though, I long to turn off my mind, even just for a few moments, and become insignificant. That I could lie in those verdant fields and enjoy an existence where I didn’t have to fight anymore. That the universe I have created is the truth.

Some day the mind must cease. And with that, the universe collapses
once more.

One day I will return to that field.
One day, all thought will perish.