Pay no attention to that mind behind the curtain.

“If a listener quiets his neocortical chatter and allows limbic sensing to range free,

melodies begin to penetrate the static of anonymity.”[1]

We think (self-fufillingly) we are so separate, no one knows the troubles I’ve seen

We idolize our own perception, certainly, we are the most unique

The brain works best when covering it’s ass, convincing us that nothing gets past our infallible senses.

Nobody gets one up on me.

The Universe perpetually proves otherwise.

all information contrary avails itself, but we happily go on
and fail to see (everything)

too afraid to hear
our lives are clever lies

we live in a derivative, understandable disguise

never bet against the stubborness of our fearful, prideful eyes

whose blame is our belief?
whose fault is our disease?
We think we know so
We only see
what’s important
for us to believe

We traded the stars for our

bought cars and sold our feet

but when all the lights
go out at once
the Oneness will return

Are you ready to remember peace?

the sky?

the trees?

We are indivisible

individually inseparable

vulnerable invincible

Interconnected ineffably

we are the Earth,
we are Nature
the Sun
the Galaxies

“the ‘paradox’ is only a conflict between reality

and your feeling of what reality ‘ought to be.'”[2]

1. Thomas Lewis, M.D., Fari Amini, M.D., Richard Lannon, M.D. A General Theory of Love, p. 169 New York: Vintage Books (2001)

2. Richard Feynman, The Feynman Lectures on Physics, vol III, p. 18-9 (1965)

Poetry prompt: Mish at the Poet’s Pub

“Where’s that confounded bridge?”

Begin and end a poem with two quotes from two different books.


8 thoughts on “Pay no attention to that mind behind the curtain.

  1. Everything is Waiting for You by David Whyte

    Your great mistake is to act the drama
    as if you were alone. As if life
    were a progressive and cunning crime
    with no witness to the tiny hidden transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
    the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
    even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
    the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
    out your solo voice. You must note
    the way the soap dish enables you,
    or the window latch grants you freedom.
    Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
    The stairs are your mentor of things
    to come, the doors have always been there
    to frighten you and to invite you,
    and the tiny speaker in the phone
    is your dream-ladder to divinity.

    Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
    the conversation. The kettle is singing
    even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
    have left their aloofness and
    seen the good in you at last. All the birds
    and creatures of the world are unutterably
    themselves. Everything is waiting for you.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I really loved your poem–beautiful. They keep stirring up these other poems for me. Thanks for the bounty of contributions!


  3. It seems there are quite a few prophetic poems with this prompt. This line says it all, “We traded the stars for our
    and we would be wise to let the “melodies begin to penetrate the static of anonymity.”
    Try to read and comment on the other poems, and thanks for yours!


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