Absurd Haikus, an Autobiography

absurd poem

[Click the landscape photo above to hear music by the author.]

Worries descend to nausea if not

     countered by reason.

But reason can be mimed

     by the language of self-indulgence.

Yesterday I might have kept

     a softball left in the park.

But I threw it at a chimera,

     a self-god man.

Being mortal brings potentials

     unknown to gods,

     who simply will their wishes,

     and so are soon bored.

I might instead have thrown the ball

     at lightening speed, being a

     quarter god myself—or is it an eighth?

I might have made a great hole

     in the Earth

     or left a souvenir on the moon,

     to be discovered by some perplexed Astronaut.

But I didn't.

In the end I chose to return to meaning after all

     to bravely live as an

     earthly being, rather than reveal

     my  divinity.

So I left the ball behind.

I hate it when people flaunt

     being part immortal.

It's indecent, an affront to

     all who struggles mightily to

    sustain the pretense,

    of reality,

     if pretense it be.

 I think so.

No, no I don't.

I mustn't allow that,

     for mortal pleasures' sake.

For your sake,

     and for mine,

     should you read this.