Of That Is Known

You’d know more of diminutive things

Trying to catch up with similar frequencies

Thoughts explode like enraged kernels

These are ideas strained beyond their limits

Agitating flowers with pent-up rage

Holding a bowl overflowing with craze 

Knowing more but less of what is expected

The statements are not quantifiable 

Even, the experiments do not show results

Distracting the mind with curious questions

I’d be happy to know more of nothingness

If there are clarion calls, never mind

Knowing more of what my soul desires 

While communicating peacefully at night

There isn’t any rush to unsettle my mind

Ready to deconstruct life along the journey

My bowl may be empty, nothing to offer

Let my hunger guide the direction

Survival or existence is carefully considered

My prayers to keep this space sanctified

Only to surrender at the altar of truth


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