Room Change -- We are in Lecture Hall 4!!!

We are in Lecture Hall 4!!!

Existential Crisis (I Don't Know)

Want to know how to create an existential crisis?

Allow me to demonstrate:

Take a seemingly simple question, for instance

“What do you want to be when you grow up”

And pull it apart gently, layer by layer, perhaps

Fold the ‘what’ into a ‘who’

Make it nice and personal

Dress it in doubt, then let it simmer

Let its fragrance penetrate your nostrils

Let it flow into every corner

Let it seep beneath the cracks of doors long ago locked

Simmer until the initial deceptively-innocuous notes have faded

And a heavy aroma has settled over the kitchen.

Ours should evoke notes of crushed idealism and moldy sage

Your question won’t look any different by this point

Don’t be fooled.

It sits there, mocking you with its sameness

As you try not to gag on the fumes

And when you finally muster the courage

Take a bite.

Choke it down.

It won’t get any easier.

Because there’s no question more difficult to swallow

Than one that’s been infused with the bitter essence of self-doubt

Want to know how to create an existential crisis?

Don’t dismiss a question with a simple

“I DON’T KNOW.”

Known Unknown

Young and foolish. With all the confidence it brings.
Convinced he will be happy once he knows these certain things.
Waking up fatigued, same as the day before,
Eyes heavy and both back and neck sore.

Eyes trying to adjust to the light,
Eyes trying to make things seem right,
Yet shapes and figures, he can barely make out,
Leaving him troubled and in unbearable self doubt.

Today I sit as equally ignorant as he.
But older, so fear of the unknown does not weight on me.
Every morning Unknown gingerly greets me at my door.
Yet at night I sleep in peace with a pleasant snore.

Knowing I know less of about Unknown then I knew the night before.

Bobbing forward

I don’t know when I’ll see you next

I’m bound here

I work here

I learn here

I build and I build and I build

This ship, but where is it headed?

I have been made a promise that

It will find land.

Are there landmarks I will find when I set sail?

I don’t know when I’ll find you

Are you along this path I sail?

How will I come meet you?

I’m bound here

I work here

I learn here

This sail unfurls

Snapping tightly as it finds the wind.

Steady and flowing now

Leading me to this land, elusive land.

Who will be there?

What will I find?

I don’t know.

The seas are restless

Now and again

These words and musing chase each other round my mind.

Meanwhile I’m on this methodical path.

They say a straight line, that A leads to B leads to C

But I see a volatile sea - from dull waddle to gnashing and pounding

There is silent uncertainty in every inch of it

Where will this path lead me in 20 years?

Will it resemble what I chose?

Will I have chosen right?

When do the pieces of my life fall into place?

This knowledge I build, this land I'm promised to

Are companions on my journey but not my final height

So I wonder and wonder and keep bobbing forward

A scientist has his hypothesis challenged

Anesthetize a mouse completely,

Put it in a frame

Find the bregma discreetly

Coordinates are just a game

Inject a virus

As ethical as Cyrus

DNA I cloned

I may well have been stoned

                                                            Have I been numb or just quiescent?

                                                            Why do the lines of her face shift in my mind?

                                                            How does someone I only imagined actually exist?

                                                            How many of her are there out there?

                                                            During all the time I wasted, she was in the world?

                                                            Why is this gnawing longing so invigorating?

                                                            Will I ever see her again?

              Uncharacteristic lapse in focus         

              Go for a walk and sort it out              

              Familiar hallways are my locus

              Hot coffee calmed by milk spout

              “You don’t make mistakes”

              I know what it takes

              40 new graphs

              Interspersed with laughs  

                                                             Why not just analyze the shit out of this situation?

                                                             Can you bootstrap resample a memory?

                                                             If I tried, could I remember every word we said?

                                                             What do I suppose she’s doing at this very moment?

                                                             Does she organize books by author, title, or color?

                                                             What if they’re kind of just randomly arranged?

                                                             What did her family’s dishes look like growing up?

                                                             Will I ever see her again?

                                             I don’t know why I do the things I do

                                             I don’t know what this career arms race is all for

                                             I don’t know where I’m going

                                             I don’t know if I have anything real to offer

                                             I don’t know how to be responsible

                                             I don’t know if I’m evaluating my life correctly

                                             I don’t know if I can do this alone anymore

                                             I know that she can save me

DOING THE MATH

I don’t know how I got cervical cancer

(or maybe I do).  The doctor said,

Ninety-nine point nine percent chance

it was caused by a virus.

On one hand I can count

the number of guys I slept with

before I married you – on the other

hand, the number of times.

Before you arrive, I’m out of fingers,

out of hands, helping the kids with their homework,

and just too tired to do the math – how long ago,

how many visits, how many normal Paps.

So when you ask me, how can this be?

How could it happen?

Who did this to you?

I’ll take your hands, to keep mine

from trembling and answer,

I don’t know…a virus. 

Will Complacency Find a Home?

Dissembled, unscrewed, denuded
Outcries outline my ties to -
memories upheld by spells

Innocence peeled at an early age
- they didn't know

Bruises, excuses, uses
My gem forms into stone until -
fighting back upheld no slack

Resentment yielded fire at an early hour
- they didn't know

Escaped, raped, reshaped
Struggles retrain my perseverance for -
a moment of hunger

Ambition provides meaning to living
- they didn't know

Humility, acceptance, empowered
Reminiscence feeds my fires, and -
holds doors for whats in store 

Will Complacency find a home? 

I don't know

Don't Worry...

She longs for sweet moments,
for a man that represents
Love, passion, ambition, family, life...
A figure that is larger than life.

Sweet times, tough times
Come and go like a yo-yo.
Trying to hold on to positive times,
it's hard to let go.

She said: "I love you more,
and you love me less".
Honestly, I couldn't care less.
Please take me as I am: Goofy,

Funny, cold, crazy, nerdy...
What is love anyway?
To surrender my freedom and whole being?
To live together and explore?

Her eyes
Bright as summer skies
peered through my soul
waiting pour ma réponse.

“Ma Chérie, je ne sais pas”.