on this our human place
designed some by us
Noodle,
This beautiful poem of yours flows like a full-length version of a sweet Zen Haiku.
The above quoted lines, remind me of a song, neither title nor author of which I remember, but the chorus sings, "And Nigel thinks he's happy, cuz he's happy". It's about a fellow human being, with a good job, a good family, a nice car, a nice house, and a little bit of money saving up after all the bills have been paid. And he thinks he's happy because he has fitted himself into the mold of a successful man designed by the powers that be. aka government, media, pop culture...etc.
pictures
we have framed,
contained.
This last paragraph to me is almost comical in a sad way. I'm reminded of all the things, physical and abstract, thoughts, past-present-futue, anything and everything, we THINK we own, but actual they own us. I'm reminded for change and a need to be free.
Thank you for your beauty.
Loads of love,
-Amina
To me, the last word of your poem is where I find hope. "Contained". Identification of a 'problem' is enroute to solving it. Freedom. Hmmmmm
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[This message has been edited by HakunaMatata (edited 10 October 2000).]
