Cracked Plaster
Cracked Plaster
I'm not really paralyzed,
I'm just unable to make
any meaningful movement.
Oh sure, I can wiggle my toes
and there's nothing organically
wrong with my arms and legs either,
it's my damn brain that's on the fritz,
betraying me again, pinning my shoulders
to this filthy mattress, forcing my sleepy eyes
to stay open so I can contemplate
the uniqueness of peeling paint on the ceiling...
and it's probably more than a bad habit I'd say,
probably actually, fairly unhealthy to waste
so much time doing nothing, kind of like writing,
"too much work makes Jack a dull boy",
over and over and over again, but I currently
don't have a better plan, and well maybe
this is really all that meditation is, contemplating
cracks in the plaster, trying to form them into words
or pictures, into signs from any wise man or god
available, like lying on your back in the summer grass
gazing at crawling clouds that morph into John Lennon's
face as you distinctly hear that British accent
in the faint breeze.....Imagine, is what he usually sings
to me, yeah maybe I need to get up and take his advice,
'cause this cracked plaster isn't doin' it for me today.
I'm just unable to make
any meaningful movement.
Oh sure, I can wiggle my toes
and there's nothing organically
wrong with my arms and legs either,
it's my damn brain that's on the fritz,
betraying me again, pinning my shoulders
to this filthy mattress, forcing my sleepy eyes
to stay open so I can contemplate
the uniqueness of peeling paint on the ceiling...
and it's probably more than a bad habit I'd say,
probably actually, fairly unhealthy to waste
so much time doing nothing, kind of like writing,
"too much work makes Jack a dull boy",
over and over and over again, but I currently
don't have a better plan, and well maybe
this is really all that meditation is, contemplating
cracks in the plaster, trying to form them into words
or pictures, into signs from any wise man or god
available, like lying on your back in the summer grass
gazing at crawling clouds that morph into John Lennon's
face as you distinctly hear that British accent
in the faint breeze.....Imagine, is what he usually sings
to me, yeah maybe I need to get up and take his advice,
'cause this cracked plaster isn't doin' it for me today.
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
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