Contradiction’s Riddle

the collective contends not with me, 
all that is i allow to be
is echo’s image i trust to see.

i wane the world around,
to situations, likely relations,
twisted interpretations
of conceptions and sound.

what is real —
or merely postures of the grave, 
am i the ocean or the wave?
insatiable thirst i think be true,
seeks delight in the black of blue.

to the noble abyss i strain to surrender
to fathom am i the sent or the sender?
what was rend will soon be won
when the parody ends all is one

source separation returns to drought 
unquenched, dry and disbelief
memoirs of misery, colic and grief 
drained and barren is the body of doubt 

nothing hailed i see as whole  
sagacity grip my solemn soul 
solidified logic be overwhelmed
by protean habits in a quantum realm 

– K. Osei

Moments

i’ve lost more life in the moments

than the months.

measured by minutes absent of want.

to sit by the shore, to see the sea roar – that is life.

To understand that the good that is mine can not be taken, only squandered by time. To have an aim is natural but to strain in obsession is the folly of contemporary men. Awareness is the bliss we search for in happiness and the attention we crave from others. It is the overall satisfaction and efficiency rewarded by attention to the moments of life. The offense is neither in the possession nor absence but rather, being confined by them. That the need or craving for things exists in a collective conscience, is evidence of its innate naturalness and proof of purpose – that it can not be secured or quenched through an external source is mastery. Moments missed neither tarry nor return, though another may appear, our corporal opportunities are finite. Attention to the moments matter – it is the way home. The often over used adage, “Home is where the heart is,” is more than cliche,’ it is maxim. Within the moment we find more than useless contentment, we uncover intense appreciation and joy for both possession and presence, regardless of quantity. It is wholly independent. From this perspective the rich and poor are merely different sides of a single cent, but that is not to say that either can’t experience greater wealth than the other. For the true value we place on anything is merely a reflection.

by K. Osei