Earthbound minds’ remains
Strike supernals in the memory,
The reputation; a canopy
Of means, a certain gravitas in gains
That whet the appetite to maintain
Forever somewhere in a panoply
Of names. Icons, but samples of history,
Such denizens breed to read as fame,
The goal—lingering doubt in shallows,
Negatives—whether goat or lamb, the standards
desiccated to utter nothingness reward
The ephemeral and untoward,
And no one seems the wiser. Shadows
With the shades seek belief from nihilists and wild cards.
Radiations of the body’s appetites leave little doubt
As to who will win and who, like others in the cast, remain invisible.
Endowments rule, and somewhat less than these, the indivisible
As the people say, my misery loves company and company its clout
And so the chosen court pariahs will attain their stations spiked to flout
A mutual advantage, powers and blessed assurance, the irresistible
Conclusions of equals in collusion, equals in delusion,
but at last sanctified within the ballot, tranquilized as sequels
In costumes of saints and mystics, mahatmas—and the truth is out,
Their stories told, perhaps—but as the sun blots out the stars,
So, too, their majesties are put to flight for want of oxygen. Soon
The latest, faintest, and first recite as advertised, and we delight
In gazing not through distances, but at the destination of the light
With origins counting billions in years while within this single room
We, the sods and consequences, lay inert beneath the silent moon.


3 responses to ““Earthbound”

  1. tied we are, and tied we will remain, ever staring at the Moon, who looks down as lives are played out generation by generation, maybe for her amusement? xPenx

    • I did not know of your loss when I wrote that last comment; please excuse my ignorance, but had I known of your loss, I would not have been so cavalier in my reply. God’s blessings. John

  2. It is the consolation as well as the curse that none of us lasts within these bodies past the grave; while here, we have no choice but to mark the moon’s phases and it is the sun that tells us that we have passed another day. Still, insofar as all of us are eternal, once created, what honours could exceed this single blessing? It takes a thousand years for a sunbeam to reach the surface of the sun and eight seconds from that portal to the earth, so we are told. What we are not told is that once created, the sunbeam never dies, nor does it remain with us for long here among the living nor there beyond the last hotdog joint on its way out of town, and we are left to guess whence it came and where it’s going and what the hell it was doing here.

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