Education

What has no arms and has no legs,
Is black and white and begs, begs, begs:
Fortune irrelevant, past mystique
It moves through thoughts like a slow, dark creek?

This puzzle procured me and entangled me deep
Till I was lost in its webs and losing my sleep.
The sanctity of dreams has long been an escape:
A celestial body where the carpet matches the drapes.

From the ashes of severance to the profitability of war
My heart’s been full of hatred for a dull, blonde whore.
Yet what troubled me thin, and turned my insides out
Was the way I felt about life–what’s it all about?

What’s the purpose of this cardiac unrest?
Am I breathing to breathe, is this all just a test?
Has society drown Darwin and killed natural selection?
Is revolution brewing in this chamber-pot Republican election?

Answers, answers, as I’m well aware
Are arduous to come by and never fair, nor square.
The shapes of these slopes I stand by today,
Are elliptical and quadratic in syncretic decay.

Nature has had its way with bloody riposte.
Where men built cities, nature’s made ghosts.
But we fall and we stagger back to fighting position;
It’s something engrained in our human disposition.

Our boats take water, they get slammed by waves–
Our words, our beliefs, become twisted by knaves.
From the shelter of safety, a fool makes cracks,
But don’t be disheartened by what’s said behind backs.

Truth is a journey best voyaged alone,
For truth is pilot who sees only what he’s flown.
A king in a castle or a crook in a cave,
Solus ipse, you have only this day to save.

We’re guaranteed nothing as you’ll come to find out,
Not shelter, nor air, nor nothing beyond doubt.
We’re best treated like animals, as most humans are:
Hairy with hatred and crouched inside cars.

We take all our pills to keep fear encapsulated,
Then debate for hours the powers of our medicated.
To write anything simple would be a gift to admire,
For simplicity was defeated the moment intellect was acquired.

Osama felt similar to our right wing neighbors
There is a war on religion, which the leftists labor.
So attack what is wrong, but don’t disassemble creation
Make pollutants and jobs till the Earth dies of cremation.

So where am I going? Where do I dare?
The world’s not a safe place for those who care.
Back to square one, and back to this riddle:
Who’s got the trident and who’s got the fiddle?

What burns you, young man, deep inside?
Why do you blunder and why do you hide?
We all make mistakes; that’s for sure,
In that case, knowledge, may be the only cure.