Imagine No Illusion

.
.
Truth has no concept that you could inherit,
nor obtain, nor
smell, nor
create, nor
see, nor
sing, nor
hear, nor
cook, nor
touch, nor
write, nor
taste.
Infinitive.

Truth is a red red apple that you’ve never seen, touched, smelled, heard or tasted. Your father vividly described the red red apple to you in a colorful, soothing bedtime story. You awakened the next morning in a black and white world, where your father no longer is there. “Cold,” “hot,” “warm,” whisper the colorful fairytales from all the bedtime stories you used to listen to long time ago.

Truth is a concept Men can either deny or strive for. It is the very concept Women always accept but a lot of times ignore.

“Hot,” “cold,” “warm,” the fairytales give directions -at the best of their knowledge- while you’re at your childhood bedroom creeping in a dark windy night, going through grey plastic dolls, white balloons, black tanks, grey clown masks, black trains and bears, searching for a red red apple in a black & white world.

The Thing (Extensive Revisit)

.
.
.
Prelude
I extended what I
could possibly extend
but I
never reached whatever
I
was reaching for, for I
was either some-
thing or some-
thing went awfully
wrong totally
out of your context,
see, I blame it on
both
my hefty buoyancy
&
your tight con-
text



The Thing
The thing is
sometimes when I say the thing,
you tear the air complaining about everything
have you heard about something that has one wing and can't do anything but fly?

Once, I heard the thing
declaring that anything
that lusts for everything
should build a cloud-castle and grow feather fields around it ……………………………………………………………….yet twice I fell …………………………………………………..on my head
………………………………….all over the sky
because nothing explains if I’m supposed to sing:
………………...........................................ding-nada-ding
or sharpen my sensitive string
to beat the hell out of the thing
till you cry.


Finale
One thing is to say that you love the thing;
other thing is to love talking out the thing
adding one thing to the other won't

reveal the fierce, unconventional finding:

"Any claim blindly aimed to a merry piñata clinging on a dead tree isn't worth anything but a mere thing" – DV