Three Poems Concerning Existence

Steam drives things despite its lack of substance. 
Like love, it can create tremendous power. And,
like steam, love vanishes just as abruptly as it appears.

It begins with a bang– a combustion

A collision between the surreal and the conscious.

Love manifested around reason.

A question and an answer --

"Yes," with complicated reverberations.

She loved the intimate maneuvers

Or perhaps the relationship itself.

Romance was the only true steam.

I loved her.

She left everything behind for two months,

Misplaced with time,

An ecstasy not suited to nostalgia.

The turbines churned their last

I mourn for an imaginary girl, an identical shell.

In the end it all boils down simply enough.

Love is relentless

Empowering any soul left bare

Gyrating the gears of the vulnerable heart

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As much science and technology falls upon my lap

There is still one truth that cannot falter

There will always be that one unknown

A singularity fighting the currents of change

Because, if you look up at that black sky

And study closely, you see beautiful gems floating

You see them as stars, due to human intellect

However, if you examine harder, you realize—

They don't give a damn about us

They wouldn't care if we vanished or flourished

That's why I know God exists—

because we aren't products of fiery beasts with no remorse

We are not stardust

Gazing at our mothers

We are children of God

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Life is a curious process

Nucleic acids form in a biological splendor

And a kiss helps the DNA bond to produce again

Stars blanket the above

The great sight is born of fire

Yet provides no warmth

They say, “Golden Age.”

I think, “Civilization?”

They reply, “No, gold.”

And yet life is also overly plain

You can look left, then right

You see nature enjoy more nature

You can walk on asphalt

Friction will kick your feet back

As Physics allow

Cause and effect dictates your perceptions

Your likely to rest at home

And all is at rest

But in the end,

The verve of it all is sweet

And I got nothing better to do than live

I will write Haiku

The keyboard will feel my taps

As I think of things

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Cheerless

Depression—hardens the face

Stiff expressions yield

Dispassion in all things

The repetition of cheerless thoughts

Wrings my will to desiccation

Until my cherished emotions are alien

All that was fragile, shatters

All that was fluent, dries

All that was, isn’t

“Shout!” you tell yourself

“Shout! Your mouth tastes itself.

“Shout! Before there is nothing left to say!”

Then it calms…

“Hey,” you say, “it doesn’t mean a thing”

Until, that is, you feel better

    Dan Neumann (Editor): I just wrote this when I didn't feel very good... understandably. But the crafting of it made me feel great. Let me know how you feel... and perhaps if this ever helps you in a "dry spell."

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