Thought ... or The Everpresent Pain
Oranges are moot
When eating elephants
Shot with water pistols
And the grey bearded pirannahs
Are not afraid of the goat
That flies by night.
And of course,
We must never forget that
The Stupification factor of five
Is ideal for Telekenetic prowess.
Think about it
and it might ... eventually ..
Make some sense...
Or it may not
becuase this is a train of thought poem
Yes, a stream of thought poem
I am thinking,
And so are you ... now
But this train ain't goin' far.
Not far at all.
As a matter of fact
It's sitting on its ass
Fallen off the broken tracks,
Fallen off the dead mens' backs.
I know it makes no sense,
But that is the point
Isn't it?
I thought so before
But I was thinking then.
I think I may have stopped by now
But NO
That was a thought
So there I go again.
I have to quit
Because I know there is nothing to say.
So look at this poem
Flying through the air
Like a hawk
Or a vulture
Flying from my page to your brain
Making you think.
Stop if you want
But I won't
I can't
I don't want to.
So I think on
Making everything stupid
and everyone dumb...
But even the dumb think...
I think...
So I think I know
Because I know I think,
Or I think I do at least
Or maybe I don't.
I don't know.
But not knowing leads to thinking,
I think
Because if you don't know
Then you might think you do,
Or you might think about it,
Or you might forget about it
And even forgetting takes thought
I think,
Or maybe it doesn't.
I think about thinking
But I don't know
And, as you know,
Not knowing leads to thought,
And thought to writing,
Writing to poetry,
Poetry to words,
Words to music,
Music to your ears
Loving the sounds
And thinking about hearing,
So thought leads to thought,
In the end.
But this is NOT the end ...
Though it is coming closer,
And it is not the beginning either,
Since I began
Many ages ago,
Or so it seems.
This must be the middle, I think.
So here we are
Stuck in the middle;
Always stuck in the middle:
In the middle of life,
In the middle of death,
In the middle of this poem
and hence in mid-thought
Or mid-word
Or mid- ...
...
Something ... I don't know...
Yet again ...
But do I ever know?
I don't think so;
But there I go,
Thinking again.
So I must not.
Thinking leads to thought
And thought leads to thinking
So if we don't start
Then there will be no need to stop.
So I think I won't start.
But that was a thought
So it is too late for me.
It is far, FAR too late
For this thought-hungry soul.
Save yourselves!
Never have a thought
and live without care;
Or stop now and never start again.
It will be easier that way,
Believe me ...
I have spent a lot of time
Thinking it out.
(c) 2001 David T. Renner
