The Plank and the Mirror

it’s always the questions

the hows

the whys

our eyes are so boarded over

that we can’t see through the smoke 

even if we tried

the mirror we saw through only dimly is shattered on the floor

and still we ask why

when we were the ones who threw the stone at the mirror

in the first place

so we make up the excuses

the impromptu stories

the fairy tales that explain nothing

that go nowhere

that never have a happy ending

because we can’t dream of fortuitous endings anymore

because we’re autonomous

we need no one

because we’re so locked up in our maturity 

that we can’t go back to the childish beliefs

because not even the mud from the streets of Jerusalem 

could make us see 

when we hold our eyes shut so hard

so we throw stones

and we throw angry words

and we throw grenades

and we watch them obliterate 

what candor and understanding we had left

dancing to our mindless music

with the ambience of the endless explosions and screams

all around us

it’s like the chains that are dragging us to the ocean floor

keeping us from getting to the surface

are the freedoms that were meant to augment our minds

to lift us above

it’s like the sphere has stopped its cosmic dance 

and we’re just lying here

gasping for the air that left long ago

but our lungs don’t accept it

they keep sucking in more 

and more of the emptiness until it fills our veins

and takes hold of our dreams

 like a infection that takes everything 

and gives nothing back

it becomes so much a part of us

so intrinsically a caste in our nature 

that we don’t notice it anymore

until we start searching for 

an elemental part of our humanity and realize to our chagrin

that it’s the missing puzzle piece

that the whole puzzle has been sucked into the void

the capacious black hole 

at the center of our souls

and so we blame

blame our sisters, brothers

mothers, fathers

blame the propaganda

blame the people in authority

blame the people in other countries

blame the God who gave us the sight in the first place

blame everything

blame anything

just not ourselves

because we can never debunk the fact

that we might be the problem

we can never divulge that

the asylum of clarity has disappeared

we can never disinter

that the storm that’s brewing

is just a teardrop in the bucket

just the pieces of a broken heart

being crushed into the carpet

because we don’t want to take the time

to put it back together

don’t want to take the time 

to clean it back up

don’t want to take the time

because time is our inflective enemy

as much as it is our irreverent friend

so we hide the pieces

and pretend they add to the aesthetic value

and pretend that the sky is blue

even as hailstones fall around

even as the tornado kisses the earth

even as the tsunami washes us out to sea

we’ll sing ambiguous songs

we’ll write witticisms

about how life is blue skies

and lullabies

ignore the eminent lies

because the world’s still spinning

the wars are fine

the fairy tale has come true

and our eyes are clear

even though

we: the clairvoyant 

we can’t see through

the planks

and mist

of tears