The certainty

wars-begin

We may have it the wrong way

intellect being a dirge

for the cat carrying its kittens

does not question or consider

why do I torture the rat and flee the fox?

simply nature propels her onward

no coincidence then

the more we are aware the greater our potential for

grief and a disconsolate ring

with the emptiness perceived

we seek in our fervor

more out of this plain life

standing watching the first seasons’ dragonflies

wishing for meaning or distinction

spelt out in philosophy books empty of bottom line

who made us? why? why?

the infernal hum of internal conflict

I recall a russet haired cousin

born with the mind of a child

never to graduate or spell correctly

her smiles always somehow less

artificial

she delighted in as the young foal

spring filled fields of flowers and thick hedgerows

buzzing with honey bee mastering his lust for nectar

not considering all the pain

held in the wetted weight of world

hers inhabited moments

living under sun without query

heart unable to contemplate

greater or sorrowful fates

I dearly envied her that

for every year closer to increasing reason

intellect building artifices as often

as truths

without faith or illusion

clearing our eyes and seeing

the way the nest falls from ash tree

all offspring dying at the hand of passing predator

the way women walk with their

purses clutched to their sides and heavy tread

this is only nature or maybe perversion

yet we grieve attempting

change where none should exist

as well as those never-changing

each generation learning shared impulses

to destroy because they can

 

I planted a tree once

it grew without question

I married a man twice

he needed no religion to know

the sun would come up the next day

nothing was worth worrying about

when certainty took her carriage across

emblazoning sky with greater things

than our imperfect longing minds

we who fitfully seek

higher elucidation

writing out descriptions of existence

with punctuated heartache

as the blind man must fathom

his colors

we walk in darkness believing

ourselves electric

until the storm wipes out

all trace of our absolve

for we are ink running on a page

leaving time before even the imprint

is deep enough

impermanence our greatest torment

such is the grind of egos want

to matter

 

we who think and believe we feel

perhaps cursed by too much awareness

ironically know less than less

no more than the rabbit pricks up his ears

thinks he hears a sound, could be all of us

crying out

we cannot follow the wild

for our modern natures are muzzled

behind the weight of thought

as if consciousness were an apple

eaten and consumed behind library books

taking root in liquid storm

Genesis bequeathed us knowledge

to know suffering and our part

in the fragile glittering stage

at cost to inner peace

we search fruitlessly for purpose

whilst those who know less

sit in the sun and feel

the certainty of

nothing’s blessing

 

(I often want to give-up writing and thinking in favor of life beyond the social spectrum, where we learn to make things again, build and grow in basic and lost terms. Sometimes thinking can be a curse, much as I must covet it, I see the down-side. Moderation must be everything but it is hard, usually we are either thrown over to one side or the other, I have long valued words and reading, but I do see their potential fallacy just as I do, the bliss of unknowing).

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27 thoughts on “The certainty

  1. Yes sometimes writing and thinking can be a curse.. But we write.. we create with our thoughts, Thoughts create our reality. And it is only by our conscious thinking we change this reality in which men create war that we writers strive to create peace..

    Never give up those thoughts dear Candice.. For great poets have with ‘certainty’.. Left their mark upon this earth.. <3…

    Liked by 2 people

  2. “Such is the grind of ego’s want – to matter ” today I was thinking about one of the best professors I ever knew. He was a Buddhist and a Quaker. It was as if he had no ego. I’m sure he has passed away by now but much the same as those with huge ego’s….with huge wants and with huge delusions of self importantance. Both are left with the same….perhaps someone thinks of them now and then. Thank you for sharing your wonderful gifts!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Great poem, profound thoughts raised, reminds me theme-wise of this – hope you don’t mind be pasting it:-

    ‘Thrushes’ by Ted Hughes

    Terrifying are the attent sleek thrushes on the lawn,
    More coiled steel than living – a poised
    Dark deadly eye, those delicate legs
    Triggered to stirrings beyond sense – with a start, a bounce,
    a stab
    Overtake the instant and drag out some writhing thing.
    No indolent procrastinations and no yawning states,
    No sighs or head-scratchings. Nothing but bounce and stab
    And a ravening second.

    Is it their single-mind-sized skulls, or a trained
    Body, or genius, or a nestful of brats
    Gives their days this bullet and automatic
    Purpose? Mozart’s brain had it, and the shark’s mouth
    That hungers down the blood-smell even to a leak of its own
    Side and devouring of itself: efficiency which
    Strikes too streamlined for any doubt to pluck at it
    Or obstruction deflect.

    With a man it is otherwise. Heroisms on horseback,
    Outstripping his desk-diary at a broad desk,
    Carving at a tiny ivory ornament
    For years: his act worships itself – while for him,
    Though he bends to be blent in the prayer, how loud and
    above what
    Furious spaces of fire do the distracting devils
    Orgy and hosannah, under what wilderness
    Of black silent waters weep.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Ignorance can be blissful, a mind unburdened can be an enviable concept. However, when I am truly happy and contented in any given day I prefer to have the benefit of knowing and understanding why that is. True appreciate comes from understanding.

    I hope you don’t give up your desire to write anytime soon. It would be a grand shame.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. You must be Northern you use ‘grand’ a favorite word of mine in that context (good on you). You’re right about ignorance, I envy an unburdened mind but it’s like trying to inhabit something you’ll never be. Agreed .. the benefit of knowing has value, truthfully if we were all ignorant as in some ways we are, it would only worsen things. Ignorance has its share of blame too. I would agree in theory true appreciation can only exist in understanding. I think with this I was trying out the idea of being something quite different, as well as expressing an exhaustion with carrying the awareness of things and how it may contribute to sadness. Sometimes I try to be things I’m not in order to understand them better or shine a light on a set of emotions that beg us to consider the usual norms. So many vaunt knowledge and I think I was saying, there is a downside, which when I say it like that, is obvious, but I hoped in the poem it showed more of the scape of it. Anyway eitherway, I appreciate you reading and your comment very much. Thank you my Northern friend.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I agree. There are many advantages to having a mind that dwells in thought but there are certainly downsides too, like you mentioned.

        You are close. I have the blood of the Scots running through my veins but I am a Midlander, born and raised. I just love using the word ‘grand’, haha! And you’re welcome.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Nowt wrong with a Midlander … near Norwich? I went to Uni there. Good blood the Scots, never fully conquered, I like that … Welsh are pretty awesome too. Don’t quit using those words. On a funny note, didn’t know Kit Harrington who plays Jon Snow on Game of Thrones was not from the North, when I heard him interviewed – with a plummy school boy accent I was horrified, suddenly EVERYTHING changed and not for the better! Funny about accents, always felt a kinship with the North and then watching Game of Thrones, the author sort of creates that too. I didn’t think the show nearly as good as the books though, that’s where the meat is.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Hundreds of book pages can fill a mind and offer perspectives in a way that TV shows aren’t always able to. The show is brilliant but it wouldn’t be anything without the source material.

        To answer your question, I’m from the West Midlands, near Wolverhampton. I’ve often fancied a trip to Anglia though, maybe someday.

        What did you study at university?

        Liked by 1 person

      4. East Anglia is really pretty I liked being there (I froze to death though). That time I was just studying my undergraduate stuff it wasn’t my higher level – so I did Psych and Lit. Boring. I wanted to do Science but I’m not good enough at it. You’re right, although I do love TV too but for more of a ‘fix’ kind of feeling. A book stays with you longer most definitely. A good show though that really does commend itself on screen is The American’s reminds me of the cold-war stuff when I was a kid. Agreed, the show is fun but the books are much better I didn’t like book five so much though and I’d be interestd to know what George M does with book six since there is so much diverging from the books in the film (I think they made the right call it didn’t make sense to do it the way he had in mostly book five) I have never been to Wolverhampton though of course I can say it in a midlands accent I love the name it’s so dramatic.

        Liked by 1 person

  5. Love this one. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. I struggle with this concept too. But there is no need, we are aware, therefore you must keep writing! How else can we manage awareness? Sharing the sensitivity, to both the good and the bad, or else we go mad(der)? ❤

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you for saying I should keep writing. I really needed to hear that. Sister you always say the right thing but this was like reading my mind. I appreciate YOU. Thank you. I totally agree w/u and thank you for your words.

      Liked by 1 person

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