Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

If everything is supposed to happen
for a reason,
Then what happens when something happens
out of turn?

Does it mean the reason
has been altered,
exchanged,
or simply forgotten?

If the reason has changed
from its original format,
does that mean that we are living
in the right set of circumstances
or the wrong ones?

Does it mean our destiny has changed,
or was our destiny meant to be this way all along,
including the alteration in said reason?

Is the alteration a deviant
or is it accomplishing its pre-destined journey?

Are we meant to question
or meant to simply live
without explantions?

now if i were the kinda person who answers poetic inner searching questions,
i'd say
yeah. keep questioning.

by the way, lucy, this looks like something i might have written as an act of self-defence from a lecture in uni given by a pompous monotonic prof.

the piece could have laced itself all over my pages, arms, desk, the shirt of the person in front of me, etc.

in other words - very relateable piece.

beats me lucy
but you got me thinking about it.

interesting poem
I think it sounds good too

Come to my office, check out my books,
check them and mate them and pawn them for rooks--
argue with Luther and Calvin and Marx,
see if their auto-obsessiveness sparks
any answers to questions you've asked in relation
to mysteries shrouded in predestination
and -- please -- if you're willing relate them to me
and quiet my soul from the terror To Be.

deviations from Divinations
have no explanations
so it makes me wonder
"is that all there is?"
then lets keep jamming

just a riff don't mean nothing

They took you to the Grand Canyon on vacation
(when you were fourteen or fifteen and didn't care)
and you stood over a crack in the dust, begging,
"Is that all there is?"
And while a park ranger's head was shaking
and a tourist from far away gasped,
someone who loved you deviated from agreement and asked,
"What else would there be?"

C'est la vie. All things are such that they are because of the nature of nature that is arbitrary, without purpose or design, from the inception of all things, at the beginning, when it was all but a speck, infinitely massive, with endless possibility. We, of course, relay the meaning, via categorical imperative, as we have determined from history....and our good/not so good sense; but it is tainted, despite the nearly pristine background, as we've all collectively formulated, by this same arbitrariness. C'est la vie.

clouds are clouds
and it´s also a banner
(sorry, Lucy
my humor is a bit confused
half an hour after I wake up!)

we are also questioning-meaning searching-explanation beings?

gracias for your poem!

I've always figured that deviations are peekholes into another light/perspective. Reminders that what we normally "see", is a very small portion of what is out there for us. Nice thoughtful piece, got me thinking too...
H