Poem -
How To Get A Thousand Poet's To Think?
Does anyone know why in life
we do not get to choose our families
but we do get to choose those from outside whom we love?
is it because whilst alive
we have a privilege in choosing the ones we truly enjoy and love?
and if we are really lucky we get to have both?
and in the afterlife we simply go back to those we were born too
for better or for worse?
I wouldn't be a poet if I didn't put it out there would I?
I'm just turning my thoughts into reflections
in the minds of other poet's
because
the poet's mind is a slave after all?
and Einstein isn't here to answer my questions
I suspect, if he was…
he would have had some seriously interesting answers of his own.
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Comments
A Poet's Soul says it all sometimes. Great Write. ☘
Thank you so much B.S 🌹
So many questions, so many answers. I'm 41 years of age and the madness of human existence is all I think about, why are we here? , where did we come from?, what is reality?.
It plagues my thoughts, shadows my life.
There are a few theories that seem plausible to me,
Prison planet is one.
We are serving out a sentence delivered by an intergalactic species for crimes against other entities, banished to earth to exist and never know why, our punishments vary depending on the crime and can carry over for hundreds of years, the places upon which we are born into all come into play, 3rd world countries, living in war zones, dying and suffering are all part of our punishment.
If a 3rd world country is seen to be developing into a better place then and earthquake, drought, war or famine is strategically implemented to return the area to its rightful zone of suffering.
There needs to be a certain percentage of earth for the worst offenders to be born into.
We can change on earth, we can become a better entity but while here, we are destined to look up at the stars and only see the past.
Religion and the economy are ways of keeping us in check, to stop people from questioning there existence, keep watching Netflix, keep praying for a pope you will never know, keep paying your taxes, keep working and hopefully the next time you die, your sentence will be over.
You just gave me the greatest compliment as a fellow poet, by reflecting on exactly all of this, thank you so much indeed Nine Eleven 🌹
Sorry about the rant but I really enjoy when a direct question is asked, I will respond in full.
I am truly humbled that you did. 🌹 That was the point of this poem. 🌹 Thank you.
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