Vortex
eyes big as the Earth in a socket of Void,
blue and green
and so much distant cold
for beams of justice to travel a lifetime and not
reach.
what matters
takes place in the sparkle of daily treasure,
which surely props up the sky.
and yet, somehow,
so much outside and around--and especially inside--
never gets heard or seen or known.
there is only this fix,
this label of beauty as value,
and the fight to own it,
carried out by eyes with dilated pits.
better to suck down the blue and green and gold
and red and
amber and mahogany of dawn--
to gorge, to devour, to own, to swill--
while days turn to narrower tomorrows,
again to witness whatever crave can be contrived
again.
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2/21/24 ... sound mod ...
This poem is inspired by the concept of an "ignorance vortex": dysfunctional culture transmits ignorance from generation to generation, thereby preventing the collective consciousness of humanity from advancing ethically. It is not 'human nature' that holds us back and traps us in warfare. We are, instead, trapped in an ignorance vortex. Peace is possible, but first we must deal with the vortex (which heavily resists, of course). More here:
https://owlwholaughs.blogspot.com/2023/11/op-ed-trillions-of-happy-humans-its.html
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