Every now and then,

My mind escapes me, and returns--

Exerting more energy with each fleeting arrival

And departure

But this time, it returns 

With a question

Why does the Earth stand so mundanely?

Stripped bare of its nuances

And prohibited to express itself

We, held prisoners to a figure driven society

Where expressiveness is stripped of its freedom

And sonata is buried beneath arithmetic

 

The chemical properties that control my consciousness

Force me to disregard the algebraic hymns calling my name

 

Like sirens

 

And synapses fire through my nerves

With the sound of a sweet falsetto

 

Slipping through my fingers are the faded memories

Of Picasso and Da Vinci

Where the right side of my brain is imprisoned

Within the profanity of everyday life

 

Where monotony becomes a custom

But I’ve already been accustomed to it

 

They say time is measured in two ways

_Kronos and ^Kairos

Kronos: A Monday morning, days at the office, church every Sunday

Secular intervals, branded into our genes as a society

To function with tedium like cogs in a clock

And Kairos: Making banana pancakes, Christmas morning, a kiss in the rain

Opportunistic time, the significance

Of life

Gift-wrapped in cellophane and decoupage boxes

 

Immersed in a profane era,

We value information and data

More than the little things

Which are dismissed

Ritual, a sweet escape

 

Because maybe Australopithecus took his first step into becoming human

Through expression and creation

Through the primordial figures of our past

Displayed on cavern walls Omni presently

Hidden by darkness

Enlightened by flecks of ember and fallible consciousness

 

Ebb and flow

Yin and yang

Offer insight to a world that I can’t keep up with

A world that can’t keep up with itself

 

The brainchildren of our past

Represent a total naivety between generations

Beatniks and/or mathematicians

 

History is the narrative of what has happened

But art shows us what we can become

What is gifted to us as persons—as creators

 

Because there is no such thing as a juncture in time

There are only,

Junctures throughout our minds

Distinguishing who, what, when, where and why

We go about our lives

 

And bouncing vibratos guide me

To the illustration of a story

 

Coerced into something brilliant

Unfiltered desires drive me toward

Inspiration

And the atmospheric scent

Of roasted java, sin and literature

Makes me smile

 

Because it is in these moments

Life observed

Entwined in Kairos

Sipping and staring

Dreaming and being

Where time has twisted into treble clefs

 

And I

Will be happy

Knowing that I will belt my last breath