by what is uncertain.
by all that touches more than just my physical senses.
by paths that lead to different states of mind.
always in love
with the potential that is human kind.
and it’s always the same,
it always ends with repetitive acts
of needs, cravings, creeds,
personal intentions masked as good deeds.
Wisdom comes and sits by my side,
a sculpture of the finest material made by Greeks of old.
brown olive in color, graceful,
the center of attention wherever it goes,
behind the clay, hiding–
this matters! – but only when awake.
other times with it you create daffodil fields
to hide from your mind what your mind craves.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
30 minutes are enough, I guess.
lost in the memoirs of each cobbled stone
lies an unimportant truth
never spoken before.
overflown with ideas of ideas,
details that make no sense
unless they’re in a whole.
S M O K E
Galway Kinnell e adresoi këtë pyetje bazike të ekzistencës me dashuni dhe shpirt të madh në një poezi që e shkroi për një student të tij që po mendonte me ba vetëvrasje pas një përfundimi të papritur të një romance.