A MILE HIGH AND TWO INCHES DEEP

                                  1

The wall of our cave is artificial and

convoluted, just the way we like it.

The shadows crawl across to tell us 

where to go or we’d never find out, 

and that suites us just fine, no matter 

what the philosophers say.

                                  2

It must be strange to spend every day in

the shade and shadows of poured concrete.

I wonder what it must do to the human spirit

to open a window and look out across twenty

feet of empty space to tinted glass a hundred feet

up from garbage and mold in the alley below.

Even at this altitude, the noise of traffic and machines,

sirens, and someone’s indignant bellow, jerks its way

through the confusion with no more substance

than the shadow of that mouse you saw run

behind the refrigerator.

                                  3

Paleontologists and psychologists have done

important studies and they find every disorder of the

urban mind grows there like citified Kudzu. It makes

sense, cities are where crime lives, riots rule,

politicians are bought and sold at discount prices.

Sterile steel and concrete are not the ribs and femurs

of infinity any more than the blood in your veins is who

you are.

                                     4

Your cramped tenth floor space with two bedrooms and

a galley kitchen carves out four thousand eight hundred

cubic feet of empty to make your own dark place to sit still,

calculate the dimensions and nature of mankind’s psyche.

Sometimes we choose to flee at close to the speed of light

and always in the wrong direction before a compelled return.

                                    5

The cosmology of empty spaces you keep inside your

head is just as good as any I suppose. After all, we’ve seen

the answers. I can’t argue because the numbers are so big,

eternity can’t hold them all, even if it is empty. Of course,

that would be the perfect place to find your empty God.

Have you asked if the infinity where you float is big enough

to hold God? Or if is your God big enough to hold eternity?

                                     6

The cells in my body do not want to continue down some wild,

futile search for anything in a vertical, two dimension universe.

Does he float like a ghost in some dense, stellar creche? And that’s

our problem, The whole cloth of awareness and human consciousness

is woven into the fabric of “being,” of saying out loud, I AM!!!

When I look out my three D window, I have to pause a moment

at sight of a kindly old forest who takes it upon herself to send

me supplies, Acorn, Wild Cherry, chipmunks, a confetti of

birds for my feeders and a revelation of secrets.

Reviews

[RomaJ]

This feels like a modern echo of Plato’s Cave, only the shadows are cast by skyscrapers and fluorescent light.

The contrast between artificial height and spiritual shallowness is striking..“a mile high and two inches deep” captures it perfectly.

I love how the poem questions our architecture of existence while still leaving space for wonder in that final forest scene.

It’s philosophical, yes, but also quietly human.

[Vol]

Roma,
Thanks for the review and your clear insights.
Vol

[ETERNITY]

Hi Vol, Just be yourself while we are here.
I can hardly wait to see you over there!
And they think John the Baptist is great...
Wait till they get a load of YOU!

[Vol]

Eternity,
Hmmm... over where? AP?
Vol

[ETERNITY]

Your 5th stanza refers to it. You are aware of it. When all those thousands of acres were burning around you, it was a respected theme. I mention it, not because you're old but because you are man enough to often refer to it. You're bold and blunt and that's why I still watch your videos, often pretending you're talking to me like in this one; https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1BjEofHPEJ/
I still adore you. I just try to be a little more refined, Sir.

[ETERNITY]

April Dawn adores you as well. I read the comments ;)

[ETERNITY]

AP?
........

[W. Barrett Munn]

Your ending reminds me of Marianne Moore. I really enjoyed this one, Vol.

[Vol]

Thank you, Winston!

[Vol]

Winston
Again, thank you... high praise indeed! I had to do a quick refresher on Marianne Moore... Well worth the time!
Vol

[Lara]

The oppressive overwhelm of brotherhood: of "big brother"...
That there is, still, "a confetti of birds" in contrast is enough to impact one like a strike to the funny-bone.
May we laugh to keep from crying... 🙏

[Vol]

Lara,.
I think I'm coming to the conclusion that absolutely nothing really matters. The history of mankind is the history of war. Conflict is our soul, once in a while we interrupt ourselves with a bit of art or philosophy, before sticking our faces back in the bloody trough. We are so used to it we don't even notice that destruction is our norm, anything else is just a short break to get drunk at a party for fun, or a hectic vacation with cell phones along...

[Lara]

Understandable, Vol...
Cynicism was the original sin, afterall. Who are we to presume it doesn't become us in our own short chapter?

I think at the root of what "matters" and what doesn't lay the spiritual impetus. From which all things materialise...
May we not lose sight of that, I pray 🙏

[Vol]

Thank you, Wise Lara!
I learned decades ago that the only thing we can change is inside our own heads and it is so hard, most never can.
Vol

[Lorry]

Would I be correct in suggesting that the words "hell is other people" are rattling through your words like they are my mind?
And maybe that is why God hasn't put in an appearance in a while. He/she or it is at the other end of our infinite universe and as we all know, infinite is quite bigly big and getting biglier all the time. I mean the commute alone must be horrific so I'll cut him/her/it some slack on that one! 😀

[Vol]

Thanks Lorry, People are filthy... as to the nature of religion and God, I do not know how to discuss either of those with folks who have a vastly different Christian perspective than I do...