if thought had wings

 

if solvable had answers,

instead of a walk in the rational park.

we all like the nature of thought.

it's so reliable as a process awareness.

but the particulars can be imposing,

like thought that have bad breath,

or thoughts that have a reputation 

for incessancy,

or thoughts, like hound-dogs, 

that get easily lost,

or where did I last leave my shoes 

of thought-particulars.

if thoughts were like shorelines,

than I am on an island that floats

and the beaches are not real, 

just intermediary,

as a pretend for mental wellness purposes.

there is this free fall 

of next thoughts coming.

it isn't their passage, that is fascinating.

it's how did they get here 

and what is there to be done with them,

and after they leave, 

the memory movie continues.

it is amazing that there is a comfort level

with the ongoingness of the stream 

of thoughts in passing.

of course, there is the fair exchange 

of ideas, 

the scketch-work done of thoughts fancied,

the puzzle-work of thoughts connected,

and of course, 

the memory games to be played.

thought is so embezzling in nature.

nothing original can happen.

it is all stolen art from the think of it.

thought is all replication, 

still-shots taken and then filled away, 

as if of necessity, 

and of course of rightful ownership.

thought is a pirate, an egomaniacal,  

celebrated as much as 

Columbus discovering America.

thought is all hearsay, 

hiding out in the safety of language,

and safely smuggled off 

in conversational exchanges,

we are all in 

the thought underground services.

think as original landowners doesn't exist,

but they, of themselves, persist 

unto their own right.

where water starts 

a stream of consciousness,

think is at the mountaintop, 

in full broadcast 

and thought, 

is ever on the climb . . .