we are born to live
we live to die
and while we’re living
we are dying
as long as we’re alive
we can not be dead

we only live
whilst we’re not dead
but once we’re dead
we’re not alive
except in thoughts
and in the bits
we leave behind,
which then transform
to live again
with parts of us within

therein the magic that links all
those that have been,
those yet unborn,
as plant or living thing we change
in endlessly becoming

so at this time, I do contain
parts of my foe from long ago
and parts of many I don’t know
and so does he or she
comprise parts of my ancestry

why do we spent energy to hold
a grudge for centuries or more
and close our eyes and ears and minds
instead of letting go

in each we come to meet in life
we face our mirror, rearranged,
sometimes believe it is another
when all along each is a brother,
sister, mother

while we’re busy speaking
we can not hear the silence
while the eye mostly absorbs
it also transmits good and bad

despite a 20/20 vision
I prove my blindness everyday
I look elsewhere, perhaps forget
and hope the seen will go away

we come, and whilst we’re coming
we also go away
I can not be here and then claim
to be there at once as well
but could be anywhere at all
once at a time

my heart is pushing blood
and sucks,
a muscle pulls
but can not push
a cold heart may need
a hot hatred
or something else as fuel

we give
we take
we know so much
and know so little of everything
we criticise and we admire
and our hunger rarely tires

we love
we hate
we can give love
we can not take it from,
and while I think of you
I can not think of her or him,
these or those or anyone

but where is love that
never had a chance to grow
what did one grow instead ,
what if what’s missing
one had never had

and where is tolerance, restraint,
understanding and regret,
unbalanced by our greed and creed
and powerless defeat
while some thought we had won

some lid the kindling that did light
flicker of motivation
the winds of time will fan the flame
imbued with righteous indignation
out of control inferno burns

peace loving guy becomes assassin
one could not hurt a fly but kill
we can our siblings, in the believe
of progress, regressing to another time

and what seems proper may contain
within the seed of being wrong
the ones we think to love today
we can turn hating, given pain

as I demand,
I’m doomed to fail
as I insist on being right
a dormant wrong will be my ail
do-gooders are so many
but those that do good far between

I am intelligent and stupid
this I can do, that I can not
perhaps I could, if I just tried
but do I feel like it or not

within are all the contradictions
known to him and her and me
and as my thoughts colours my vision
I see just what I want to see

why would the brain attack the brain
we always have, when we’re confused,
if not our own then that of our kind,
to me it is the same

why do we do what we do do
perhaps because we can
or become trapped in inner spaces
that are as a glass, filled to the brim
or full of emptiness

© Heinz Ross



Joined August 2008

  • Artist

Artist's Description

From my book ‘Between Eternities’, as download or paperback.
See “My Books” link in profile.

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