Purpose helps how?
Purpose is what - the illusion
of control. We act and expect
as if intended result
will follow like thunder
from what we done.
From what we done, to bring it on.
We know it won't, we can't
I do the thing
bright like lightning and with just as little regard
for what happens to the air afterward,
in my scorched ozone wake.
Lightning is not proud of thunder. Thunder
is the hanger-on, the bandwagon, the press
of the masses of sycophants, radiating out
to spread the word, their own reaction, proclaiming
the gospel of what the lightning meant.
The lightning didn't mean that. The lightning
meant nothing but the act. Purposeless, senseless, this
is reasonable enough. It was a bright act.
I don't say it needed to be done;
I felt it could be done,
and I did it.
building up in the clouds
an energy and a charge called free will,
and who is in charge
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years. Try the RANDOM button to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.