Disappearance: Butterly Beautifully
to disappear without a trace
for in disappearance one is spared
the ignominy of explaining in words
the treachery of souls
the eczema of the spirits
the asthma of frustrations
the asphyxiation of losses and gains
meaningless mornings, afternoons and nights
of rush, rush, run, run, read, read
of only God knows what,
in all that beguiles us into
a Narcissistic trap of which
we do not have even the faintlest of clue?
In disappearance the human psyche
is spared no more heinous injuries
than already has been inflicted
and most of it 'self-inflicted'
when it could have been much better
to let all of that slide and glide past
as knives do so effectively efficiently
---into and out of butter
the toast, the eater and the knife together
makes the most humane of mans rituals
‘Morning shows the day'
the day moving on to evenings and nights.
ahhh... Butterly beautiful
no cuts, no bruises - just slices
of what - we really dont know?
‘Time zones’ are wonderful invention of man
as in time and space we float
endlessly - each in our own roulette game
of horror and deceit (take it however)
in disappearence there are no parting shots
the 'last shot' - are never fired.
In disappearance one is fortunate
never to have to say GOODBYE
for nobody quite knows for sure
if there is going to be a comeback
It’s thus, always wise to leave with ones
In fact any other way, would only mean
Of the heart
when the truth is
the heart never bleeds
it just STOPS without notice
No ‘wait a minute ’
Or 'give me a second’ here dudes!
The heart 'disappears'
as does the so-called spirit
that so-called silly silly