I Hope I Don't Fall Asleep With My Glasses On!

My caffeinated consciousness will not let me rest.

I lay and type, and I ponder the decisions that will decide

the horrid immediacy that is everything upcoming.

Even more so I think about no longer laying

like a Lego that is scattered afar from matching pieces.

Why do I no longer pray, and look for answers

that come in the form of an odd shape in my eggs,

or the dirt pattern on my shoe,

or that fucking cup of coffee?

That coffee, that was heavenly,

and maybe I described it so for a reason.

Or maybe the tangible taste meant more to me than

box top riddles, or tragic happenings

that people just assume are meant for the better,

so that they can cope with the crappy conundrums

that we call bits of suffering.

Ah please matching Lego pieces where could you be?

Where are the pieces that allow me to connect

to others that are shaped similar in size?

Of course there is the one that is shaped so perfectly,

that my piece will conjoin with it

in a union of stability.

And our pieces will strengthen

our pending project.

Traveling

My eyes are no longer closed
To the foreign possibilties of worlds so far.
Yet I cannot travel to these realms,

because I have not yet met my guide.
Do I need to seek her in some alcohol infested island?
Perhaps she awaits in a sweaty disco dance state.
Maybe I'll find her in the least likely of places.
A place where intellect meets servitude

to ideas I don't want in my head.
Or even radomly on a concrete treadmill.
Wherever this mysteriously lovely guide is

I will wait in longing.
The things we will discover will only be surpassed

by the majesty of our experiencing the unity of a nation.
A nation of two.
Undivided by God
or shades,
or bits of paper.
We will believe in the socialism of each other,

and experience moments of unparalleled happiness,

that will make the nerves of our countries tremble.