Cartography II

Of course we are all lost.
We have been lost many 
times before.

Off course, we all search.
We have been searching
for a long time. 

We search 
for some sense
but history proves 
that this proves
nothing.

What we seek and search for,
time,
we will never have,
we can never touch or grasp or collect.

Still we suck at it like 
an empty teat and
vanish right along with it.

.the point . the quest.
meets the dragons of the horizon. 

Some drag that same 
horizon around 
like a brittle map.

Some scream in the square 
at passers-by,
 “Look!  Here, where the 
ocean meets the sky! 
Here it is!  I have found it!”

Some look away. 
Some shuffle their feet on by
some loony preaching kingdoms 
of lost treasures and flatness.

We know how these things go.
We’ve heard these stories before.

Zeno’s been there. 
His fleet-footed friend 
is never fast enough. 

We hurry home, loose hopes
like flocks out to pasture,
and throw found prayers 
at the forever locked and
stricken horizon.

our noses fall off for us 
we the de- 
and in-
spite of all faces

we are not particles
this particularity 
this peculiarity is 

yet

we spin in the same 
spaceless circles

we cannot find our waste 
precious time searches 
for what cannot be found
without or within
(but) what does the searching
(we) must be who we are

Aren't we that which 
makes us wonder?

Aren't we that wonder 
which makes us?

Are we what 
wonder makes?







10 thoughts on “Cartography II

  1. The italicized section reads to me -or feels like- a cloud chamber. You are giving us the colored gasses to see the little bits of mystery that are and are not us in bursts of light. And then back into the etherea those bits go.

    I love your poetry, JCC.

    Like

    • Thank you so much Jeremy. That is a wonderful way of putting it. You make my poetry sound so damned sexy when you write about it. 😉
      If I ever publish, I want you to write the blurb on the dust-jacket!
      I love “colored gasses” The idea of seeing the world through “rose-colored gasses”? I might have to steal that line…

      Like

  2. Pingback: Iced coffee and finger-sized sandwiches | The Sand County

  3. it may be curly, it may be wurly, but it is always toffee-caramel underneath the chocolate …

    … sorry ‘a US version of the Curly Wurly, known as the Marathon Bar was available in the 1970s and 1980s.’ (Wikipedia)

    a fine poessay

    Like

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