Searching this concept of “progression”
a benign veil disguise of inherited obsession,
the professional possession to find human perfection.
As we go in that direction
are we missing the lesson? That maybe,
without confession, without dissection of our methods, we risk:
not to mention humiliation;
sacrificing evolution in the name of
systems and weapons.
Does anyone get this?
Where does it end? The need to defend
the ways in which we have condemned
too many brothers, sisters, strangers and friends
so that we can all pretend our lives are something more
than merely a means to an end.
We got caught up.
Distractions; reactions to sums, fractions
and those irregular subtractions.
We lost all the facts but somehow found all the actions,
solutions and answers
to everyone else’s problems,
but when they try to help themselves, we always try to stop them.
What questions could we answer?
Homelessness? Displacement? Cancer?
Take a glance at their reality and see that
there is no reprieve
from realities like these.
See that as we dance upon the graves of chance,
we steam towards our destiny
(whatever that might be).
Turn off the mind and be free.
An archive of perspectives can tell us everything,
like that hating brings more hate in:
a state of disgrace for the human being;
a self-imposed mind-fuck to keep the hate
feeding, and breeding.
With each generation re-seeding the seething,
expanding with oppression demanding,
riding itself to the end of the line
starting again only to redefine
the maligned cycle that keeps it standing.
And I’ve digressed; this didn’t start as a confession
or lack of elation for the human condition.
Not even as a hot wind of my own depression;
but as a note on the defect notion