393. Rash Acuity

You speak fast and spew your words,

All over the place.

Without care you spread your thoughts,

Devoid of depth or grace;

Then look at me with judging eyes,

Awaiting swift reply,

To signify my intelligence,

Based on how quickly my words fly.

Pardon me, while I contemplate,

On how little time you take,

To make absolute assumptions,

And trust the conclusions you make.

I am not that sure of myself,

I’m afraid that it is true.

I always question everything,

And ponder hard and long when I do.

So if you’re awaiting fast reply,

Don’t bother waiting around.

I don’t really care if you think me daft,

When you can’t see my need to expound.

Leave me alone with my thoughts,

And I’ll think until I’m weary.

For there are no absolutes to me,

Only the most plausible theory.

Please take your judgments elsewhere,

There are far better things to do,

Then converse with someone so shallow,

As to judge as rashly as you do.

K. Aldaya, 4/24/17

392. Identity

160607092327-euro-2016-tournament-in-france-dark-horses-00000920-full-169

Who am I in this moment?

Well that depends on who you ask.

I am many different people,

Each with their own personal task.

How does one get anything done,

With so many different plans;

And so little time to work at them,

Before they will change hands?

Then off toward another goal,

Weaving through the field of mind,

Where players with their set positions,

Have their own goals in kind.

Tell me who I really am.

I bet you think you know!

Yet if you knew me at all,

You’d see I both come and go.

The game of life moves me,

Up and down the field.

In confusion getting nowhere,

Stuck eternally mid-field.

I see the goal right there,

And sometimes get quite near,

Only to find myself mid-field,

With another goal I fear.

Who am I in this moment?

I’m afraid that you will find.

I’m not the “one” you thought I was,

Rather “many”, in one mind.

K. Aldaya, 4/15/17

Picture: From CNN.com; http://edition.cnn.com/2016/06/11/football/euro-2016-switzerland-albania/

391. Resolution

He balances on the edge and walks,

The rusted railroad tracks,

And as he teeters-on, he talks…

To himself (as no one’s there).

How had the tracks, which seemed so straight,

Led him to this place?

Where winds tipped his weight,

O’er the edge of no return.

It’s funny how one simple choice,

Leads us down a path;

And how easy it is to follow that choice,

To the brink, without a thought.

One step and then another more.

Our fates, by steps, are set;

And even if we wish for more,

We can’t go back or regret.

He balances on the edge and walks,

The rusted railroad tracks,

And as the wind strengthens, he talks:

“Oh how I wish I’d looked up!”

K. Aldaya, 3/31/17

Picture: Originally from Alamy; https://www.timeshighereducation.com/books/review-the-trolley-problem-mysteries-f-m-kamm-oxford-university-press#survey-answer

390. Heaven

6998738-fantasy-grass-field

Let us meet upon the spectral plains of Elysium,

Where all are equal in the eyes of the sun,

As we rest our heads to dream forever,

Of what could never be on Earth;

And of ties which could not sever,

Us, from our birth.

Rest your head upon my shoulder and dream of yesterdays,

As the labors of blood and flesh fade away.

Here you’re my brother, my sister, my kin.

Our fates are eternally bound.

Beyond prejudice, fear, and sin,

Heaven is found.

K. Aldaya, 3/22/17

Picture: Uploaded by Kipketera on 7-themes.com; http://7-themes.com/6998738-fantasy-grass-field.html

389. The Web

Each word read,

A simple thought,

Yet when one meets another;

A web forms of connected thoughts,

And abstract intricacies.

The web spreads,

To snatch and learn;

To glean each captured phrase.

Read, listen; Ever more yearn,

For universal truth.

Each architect,

Grasps and weaves,

As the scope ever increases.

The more learned, the more one grieves,

The endlessness of thought.

The web purveys,

And never ends;

As learning leads to wisdom;

And learning never ends,

So humans become victims.

Frantically.

Passionately.

Brains weave and contemplate,

Truths too vast in scope to be,

Contained in human bone.

Each word read,

A simple thought,

Yet when one joins another.

A web forms of connected thoughts,

And “Insanity’s” it’s name.

K. Aldaya, 3/15/17

Picture: Tomás Saraceno, Galaxy Forming along Filaments, like Droplets along the Strands of a Spider’s Web, at the Venice Biennial, 2009; http://theredlist.com/wiki-2-351-382-1160-1166-view-argentina-profile-saraceno-tomas.html