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Heat Of Feelings - Life's Vertices (Revised)
Life becomes senseless without dreams - the one
thing left, testing ideals by doing the opposite,
discovering alternatives that do not work, breaking
every rule to determine meaning
Pain for long-term gain is the only way to live happily;
humanity the sole religious authority whose embedded
ideals are fine as long as we're not forced to follow
teachings - I dream about miracles, read how
Quantum physics explains all forms of spiritualism,
how consciousness creates physical phenomena
supposedly only perceived, how a wise mind can
present inherently beautiful ideas conceptually
Cynicism kills optimism by abstract abhorrence; life's
value rides upon rays of insight colouring the world
with tinctures of feelings and emotions, created
intrigues, but won't change inner traits
Musing as I climb life's vertices, falling into ravines of
self-pity and failed self-esteem, trapped in the doldrums
of hum-drum routines eating my brain-circuits - only a
variety of constructed, carefully protected ideals
to keep me going….
[ORIGINAL: ]
Heat of Feelings
One thing left: the ideal tested by doing the
opposite, discovering alternative does not
work, breaking every rule to determine
meaning - life becomes senseless
without dreams
Sacrifice for long-term gain the only way to live
happily, humanity is the only religious authority
I love the ideals embedded therein as long as
we are not forced to follow their teaching, I
dream about
Miracles, read how quantum physics explains all
forms of spiritualism, how consciousness creates
physical phenomena supposedly only perceived,
a wise mind presents inherently beautiful ideas
wonderfully
A cynic destroys idealism by employing abhorrent
concepts; life's value depends upon light of insight
colouring the world with the heat of feelings and
emotions create intrigues but can't change
inner traits
Musing as I climb life's steep mountain, falling into
ravines of self-pity and fears of no self-esteem,
caught in the doldrums caused by never-ending
hum-drum routines which sabotage all my
brain-circuits
Only a variety of constructed, carefully protected
ideals to keep me going…
poem
by
Margaret Alice Second
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