The rising smoke
From my heart
Is an example of my consciousness
Not being dead.
Nor is the conscience
On the wane.
The list of research topics
Has not been exhausted;
New topics will emerge
When the fire is on.
How long have I been sleeping?
When will the dawn of realization take place
To catapult me into creativity
Shedding off the burden of nothingness.
Bringing in new books is
Like bringing in an empty pistol
Useless, but to be preserved
For a gratuitous moment.
The scrapbook is lost for good.
Memories don‘t have to stir me up.
Personages don‘t have to haunt me.
Addresses don‘t have to find me.
Very meaningful poem.
Somewhere, that sense of self realization and self revealing, and I liked it.