Despite her pleas that it’s “really not that good, and besides I need to edit it,” we have for you, today, another piece of poetry, this time from Maddi, monarch of abstractions (not a self-appointed title in any sense).
Read and be weary, good reader
“Untitled Poem #1”
If things spun the way the world does
The lights-camera-action of the day
The stupid arguments with yourself
When there’s nothing left to say and nothing left to think about anything at all
Would it be the same?
Like rain drops on train tracks
When the clichés come together in a loud ruckus
When car crashes are not symphonies, not dramas,
But a shock in a teardrop expanding among silence.
If everything mattered and meant something
In this life that is moving gears in fluid mechanics
To find that moment when each piece stops to look at the sky,
The grand puzzle.
And we reach toward each other like waves reach for shore
Bound by the moon and by the currents but not by ourself
And when our binds seem on our side and bring us toward sandy beaches it pulls back,
And all that’s left is the damp sand and the grains of shells and salt being swallowed by the motions.
The traces of each other and what once was.
When a hundred thousand people have stepped on the same ground
Looking out at what’s beautiful
They respect the earth and themselves or are thinking of jumping or the next big drill order or Candice at home with the baby or the Chinese food from last night that did not sit well
And that’s what the world is.
Partially a symphony and partially a grocery list
But mostly something unseen by many that is bigger than all
A company trying to make money
A person trying to make happiness
When to that person one thing means everything or everything means one thing
Because the world is a mash of state-of-minds
Every eye a camera lens with different focuses and filters.
So one thing does mean everything and therefore nothing at all
For we don’t understand that the world becomes what we are
A hard thing to comprehend, but-
That is what the world is.