Two poems and a crack in the head

It took me a long while to finally come out with a decision about sharing my two untitled poems here on My Journey. I wrote the poems sometime in November of last year and I since didn't even bother giving each of them a title but would like that my readers choose for whatever title they can think about and of for the said poems. Poetry has become a longing by which I had to seek asylum with. The poems reveal some answers which the readers, struck with mixed emotions, would either be left guessing or find what a crack in the head to deal with:

Untitled 001

It’s mind placing.
A glimpse of what is
the beginning

of the end, or
the end of the beginning,
abstract and sometimes

the beautiful display
of what’s evolved from out of such
a lack of view

for the final picture.
Needle pricks stung
the sight—no point sending one last hint

at obvious. This principle
can long endure is the name
of the game

simply because that’s not
the way things
have to always look.

The paradox is one
that is likely to become
increasingly familiar:

A hand brushing across
the climate of opinions;
the lure to keep focused.

Why do you think
it brought you all the way
up here?

The glanced up still hurtling—
the same self-conscious stare
of thumping against the screen.

Untitled 002

Same principle, different device.
The paradox helps shape the possibility
if you can’t find someone, like

a guest who always settles in the same chair
in the living room, to become the accepted form
within the overall rule. Maybe

you missed that part, maybe not.
To make the most of this argument
can only generate so much query at once,

something you don’t want to happen, happened.
And what about your newest answer
darting across a stream of crosschecks

came back with the same equation
any way: if x is the Alpha
and y, the Omega—even when reversed—

would surely expose what little ignorance left, out of you,
amounting to no more than a square
of mangled darkness in your own room.


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