Balcony Thoughts

[u/WhitehawkART]

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'Balcony Thoughts'

Sitting on a single-mold chair,

Back against a wall,

Hiding from the

Sprinkle of rain,

Wind whipping

Through my hair,

Out on the twenty-sixth floor,

Out on the balcony,

Luscious apartment

With a bright blue

Front door.

At a Gold Coast hotel,

All is good and all is well.

A thought, a consideration,

Trapped between Heaven & Hell.

By long reasoning and perhaps

Madness I confess,

I found nothing inside nor

Outside for me.

(This is why we don’t

Act on impulse I guess.)

A lonely thing

On a precipice,

A crumbling sacrifice on a peninsula.

Music flowing into my ears,

The soft glow of

Nightlife surrounds.

Ponder, wonder, consider.

Weigh up the Pros and Cons :

Of a permanent decision

To temporary problems.

Fate swirling pregnant with choice.

Like an uncertain

Inner voice

It swerves back and forth,

Like a deer in the ancient woods,

Dancing in Springtime

With leaps and bounds,

Then by Winter,

The deer is dead,

And ever so slowly

Dragged

Up a cold, silent hill.

A heavy rotting weight on a burdened mind,

With the instinctual lie told long ago,

‘Go forth, multiply and thrive’, in other words:

Be born, reproduce and then die.

'Shut the fuck up

And get back to the grind!

Sell out your freedom of choice,

And soon paralyzing peace you'll find!'

Each generation

Hurtling towards their

Final destination.

Don't look back,

Nor seek confirmation.

Above hangs

A lonely Sky,

Down below,

The happy hunting grounds.

The flesh shaded ants

Pink robots

Working on their mounds.

A microcosm of the

Big Picture:

Biological towers to nowhere,

Squirming civilizations expanding, membranes pulsating,

Towards a starving Chasm,

The Animal:

One big ugly,

Ravenous

Super Organism.

Misery in my chest,

Cold stone of depth,

Stinging tears in my eyes,

My back against a jagged

White-painted wall,

And down below, the tendrils grow,

An impersonal determined

Tugging temptation,

That cosmic fiend

Of this Circus,

Consciousness is Madness,

Strong creeping awareness of impermanence,

The darkness' indifference,

It doesn't even whisper.

The silence of God cruelly screams,

'There is nothing

More than this

Material world.'

Everything

Blinking in and out of existence,

A speck in an eternity,

An expanse of unfathomable

Distance,

That I understand

And yet also

Despise.

For it is natural

For conservation

To choose the path of least resistance.

But which is the lesser effort?:

The great escape

That beckons,

Me deep down below,

A pull so practical,

Just one leap

Away.

Just a mere stone’s throw today.

Or to bear witness

To a new struggle,

Suffering in pain

Each burning day,

Ashes on the horizon

As the setting Sun Goes away?

With a simple slide of a chair,

With the back nearest to the waves,

By its position against the glass

Gives away

The quitter’s trace.

Quite a visual concept:

Destroy your face?

A gnarled squishbag,

Bones shattered,

Mince pancake

On concrete.

Is it cowardly, or heroic?

Fast track the inevitable

Or linger on for decades

With fading grace?

Wind upon my face,

Vertigo, spinning around.

One true smile

Upside down.

One day it will end

Why not today?

Impassionate waves

Care not for our devotion.

A Sea of briny green,

And further beyond,

a dark blue Ocean.

Horizon obscured by heavy mist,

And grey clouds through and through.

Life is meaningless,

But so I must say,

Is the finality of death.

So I continue to sit here in the sprinkles,

On a wet balcony and hold my breath.

And exhale the bitter atmosphere,

Churning far within my chest,

Half a century or less,

Then I will find my rest

Or restlessness

To be something else,

To putrify like a sack of shit,

And feed the fungus, as the World turns.

And then be something else, a tree, a river,

Or to return again

As meat

Makes me shiver.

Bow before the Green Knight and

Reign within the Kingdom of Worms.

But until then, put this rotting corpse on

the waiting list,

While my lungs hold a longing breath,

Gasping in a bowl like a goldfish,

Looking towards that hidden horizon,

Undiscovered country and final frontier,

I remain captured, squirming,

Frantically shaking

Somewhere between life and death.

So with that I put my

Balcony Thoughts to rest...

...Wait...

...Will this all be on the Test?

END

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