Thus Spoke Herman

The daylight fires this clear bright morning.
The calm sits uncomfortably for a moment.
Daily business continues,
oblivious and aware of of our intent.

Fields pass in the warm glow,
Bricks crumble, clocks tick.
Newspapers preach of the sick,
not knowing themselves, going with the flow.

Under the coffee, under the sneeze
minute life froths forth,
pretending to all,
we can do what we please.

What is done is gone,
it all lies ahead.
My life is of course now
tucked up, back in my bed.

why cannot we all see that we are not we
you are not really you and me is not me.
i cannot judge, i cannot complain
i cannot preach, my words are in vain.
i sometimes too, find it impossible to see
past myself and our beautiful hypocrisy
we live now, we cannot live then
but all the past becomes the future again and again.
time swirls all around us, and we are held firm
once in its slick grasp, there is just no place to turn.
the sweet sense of self and the arrow of time
the power of us, that sense of divine.
we go to bed exhausted and tumble asleep
our dreams very fleeting and sometime we keep
a little sense of what was just seen
a little memory of what could have been.
but identity is always locked down so tight
defended with false valour, there is no respite,
we wake and are straight back,
the same feeling again
the endless struggle to become so much more than just men.

once more my thoughts seethe and froth,
surfacing for an instant in magnificence,
crashing down on melodramatic shores of pretentiousness
the tide of my overelaborate ego and self aggrandizement,
rising and falling as my words get longer and longer.
my mind fills with grand thoughts
but what good comes of this,
an education battered and bought.
my feelings are fake i am sure
i have my honesty laid out on the floor.
it creeps around, arid and burnt
sucking deep breaths, choking on what i have learnt.
each new thing that i seek
can i keep offering the other cheek?
as truth vanishes so i must call
out at the night
even if it was ever there at all.