A Bead
A series of forgotten data all jumbled together
physical, but absent the conscious observer;
my startstuff sticks together but I feel
disconnected from myself,
for my own protection
against notions I cannot see,
feel, taste, smell, or hear-
an electron at home in the cloud
existing as energy
not defined by positioning,
but the forces binding
perceived nothing and perceived everything.
I am a stranger to myself and I fear
there is no one left to remind me
I believe in the impossible
I strive for world peace
I am no one and nothing
but I cannot stop from trying
and in the end I cry myself to sleep
then get woken up too often
to even remember my dreams
wake up tired and repeat.
I’m a scale without a balance,
a sword without a hilt,
an arrow without feathers-
I’m a landmark that hasn’t been built;
past, present, and future
just shadows cast from the same clock.
I walk in place
and time passes by in a linear line,
but stand still
and that line becomes a complicated knot,
with the substance of a raindrop,
and the surface tension of a newborn bubble-
Starstuff rubble
parading around in charade as human,
pretending to be disconnected
not from self, but all the rest
attesting to the quantum conscious string
we’re strung upon like beads,
as if a bead cannot also be more when connected.
-M.E.
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