in my mind,
why does everything have a name?
like a handshake of recognition
but also as an affirmation
of separate by design.
it seems I am a lifetime of service
to a religion of separation by devotion,
a divination of mindset deliverance,
where by I am separate from
but superior to,
a self supposition of dignity,
a carriage of elitism as a given,
a perceptual cause as a species of leaders,
and a case made for dominion of all.
I am only on a name-tag basis
with everything,
yet, for me, personally,
to exist by facial recognition
amongst the earthly crowd,
it's like a celebrity status
earns me a pit pass
to whatever of interest,
where all of life is busy with its ongoing.
and I am there to blankly stare and pose.
at worst, I am all about props,
not planet props
but more importantly, self props.
I give doing, a bad name.
I am a lot of here to there
and all of the thought-form and logistics
that that essentially takes to fill my day.
essentially I am living in a parallel universe,
except for my intake of food and air.
oh I care,
as needs would direct me,
but I am of righteous audience.
I expect, and then to be entertained.
I am of the species that preempts.
we have knowledge
as a way of a menu to order from.
we are wholly amongst ourselves,
ever expansive but not so inclusive.
we would rather in-fight than immerse,
sit in wisdom, seated,
than be the actual living expression there of.
we invest in hope and desire,
as if betting on races.
we made up the killing of time.
we are a party of thee,
waiting for the next table
amongst ourselves.
the phrase, 'plant life'
is a joke about two nouns
that can't get along.
in my mind, I get to laugh about that one,
but somewhere within,
wonder overrides.
what will it take
for us to leave the lip-service
and join the ranks
that make for composition,
that present as almost silent dynamism,
ever inclusive and vigilant,
yet within our reach
but, for now, only as our grasp . . .
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