Snowy Static

Snowy Static

Sometimes I am compelled to speak
With nothing relevant to say
At other times, when I am alone with my thoughts
There is nothing but dead air
Like the snowy static you used to see
When the local television stations were signing off

Sometimes, there is simply nothing to say

I think I might like to have a day of snowy static
A day void of any intelligible thought
A day when the picture in my mind is a vast, desert-like
Span of empty space

Not to be confused with a quiet place to think
But truly a place absent of intention, purpose or relativity or thought

Imagine a place in time
Free from purpose, emotion, data and reality
A place that simply is…

Is it possible to achieve a state-of-mind?
A geological location, or a short term reality –
Where this very dialog has no value

I am not suggesting death or comatose
I don’t mean that bright light that calls out to you
Somewhere between here and eternity
I don’t mean anything morbid at all

In today’s vernacular, it might sound more like:
Pressing the pause button
Performing a reboot or a systemic fragmentation
A time-out from mental processing

Snowy Static

People are like my hands

People are like my hands

Some are content to rest
In the pocket of idleness
Resigned to useless twirling
And the finger games of unnecessary rest

Some are busy
Tasking and exacting
Feverishly executing
The mission of activity

Still some are callous and worn
Knotted in pain
Pressed on by what is yet to be gained