Monday, November 26, 2012


I am here
Learning the art of zen
Trying to create that calm within myself

I'm finding only chaos
Like piano keys
Plucked at in a rapid melody
It seems chaotic
Not mathematic
But it turns out the universe
Is more synchronous
Than it first appears

I am like a porcelian doll
With a shattered face
I am seeing things through glass eye lenses
Never really part of the party
Only looking in
Never fitting in
I am too broken
But it is the dogma engrained in me
That doesn't let me free

My spirit cannot soar
My essence simmers over
Churns like a stormy sea
There is no illusion of calm
But I'm still here
Trying to create that stillness within
Wishing to open like a lotus blossom
To embody the art of zen.

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