inks out there

abstract painting that looks like a red blob person is looking out a window of blobby green and blue stuff.

everything out there don’t exist on it’s own,

it’s all dependant on the existence of everything else,

when I close my eyes

the only surprise

is that appears because of a guess.

no evidence but memory,

arising again like an enemy,

wishing it was like my dream,

not that festering old self.

the one that suffers,

the one that stutters

on simple tasks that others

like to remind us

we ain’t them.

the duality of thinking,

not just binary thinking,

we see others,

we don’t see we’re both dust.

all I see are the atoms

of long dead worlds,

the first stars to twinkle

where no one could see them,

the extinct creatures,

the darkest our world has ever seen.

star dust is all it is,

held together by will,

just sex juices.

humans became gods,

gods of animals didn’t care,

so humans conquered the beast,

and god animal revealed

they were human god afterall,

the politician is so small.

educate your people

with libraries,

museums,

archives of learning.

can’t get out,

would love to see if these still exist,

in my world my most liked work

was helping people in a library.

but they took this with threats of money,

the god of despair,

the demon of the feared.

I would be sad to leave,

knowing libraries had ceased to exist.

think of a world,

controlled by billionaires on their clouds,

this is the internet,

this is the social net,

the media controlled revolution.

no democracy just opinion,

the decent to idiocracy,

the final lament.

so without engagement,

libraries fall by the wayside,

kids can’t work

in a safe space after school,

because those mothers and fathers

have to toil to the bone,

just to feed them and keep them warm.

so my advice,

as one who struggles to go outside,

I’m happy to know that the world is home,

to people who see the same thing.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

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