Metaphysical Punch In The Quill

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Error is as important as experience

Tripping upon shoelaces

Twisting an ankle, pain pills

Moping in bed, with foot in air

Wishing you could kick anyone who

Has the ability to walk.

Your mind wanders, perception in flux

From the human instinct, boredom.

That stagnancy takes form

Shaping the four walls of your room

Into a perfect construct

Without mistakes, Shiny, washed of stains,

Devoid of memory and smells

Placed together by foundation

Frame, sheetrock and paint

And again from boredom or fever

(Another human attribute)

Your head travels through solidness

There resides another room

Adjacent to yours that is familiar

Windows are hung in the room with care

You look through one of the windows

Seeing yourself, outside, in a garden and realize

You are catching bees in your vegetables.

Sex, love and food are of the same thing

It as if you have come to your senses

If such a thing exists and recognize

You are a hunter of the roofless house

The ceiling depository of akasha

With cement in your shoes called the body

You must sow the ground

With your solidness

The feet and head

Work hands that dig

In all temperatures and textures

Forming cuts and bruises

Forcing dust between fingernails

An epiphany sprouts.

Magic and visions are gifts

To those who are chosen

You just didn’t realize everyone is chosen

Coupled with this new hybrid vegetable

Comes a ringing in your ears.

It’s your phone on the nightstand

You have a headache

As if you have just pulled your head

Out of a wall. Your foot throbs

You take a good look at the pills

Thinking the doctor made a mistake

Welcome to the sublime error

With memory of the garden still intact

You begin to write freely

The greatest poem ever written.

After it’s written, you read it

Big mistake

You blame the doctor

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14 thoughts on “Metaphysical Punch In The Quill”

  1. The I.V. and your hospital bed
    This was no accident
    This was a therapeutic chain of events
    – Panic at the Disco

    This is the song that your words brought back to mind. Don’t let them take the fight from the kid with all their medicines 🙂 Nicely written.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “With cement in your shoes called the body

    You must sow the ground

    With your solidness” I loved those lines,I could relate to some of them. I absolutely enjoyed reading this as well as the other poem. I am glad to have stumbled upon your blog tonight and am hoping to read more(Yes,they are long but,interesting and keeps me scrolling down to read more.I will scrape out some time from my teenage life to read as much as I can in the near future.) Cheers! 🙂

    Like

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