not zen

in this moment,
I am not zen.
I can see the world,
and the world can see me.

I am not zen,
I am dead inside.
not a little,
but a lot.

I am dead to this box,
and this box dead to me.
there is no flow,
the movement is not symphony
as I pry my fingers against these keys.

even though the box complies,
I am not satisfied.
I am not happy.
I am at a loss, so no,
in this moment,
I am not zen.

One thought on “not zen”

  1. re balance

    that just reminded me of something karen solie (a canadian poet) said to my poetry class when she came to read from her book Short Haul Engine last semester. she said what she enjoys most in reading other people’s poetry are the gaps within otherwise perfect expression. (she used better words to express this idea, of course.)

    likewise, what i love most about writing are the moments of breakage where the writer either struggles or altogether fails to maintain the balance. so, while balance is generally good, the occasional escape or fall from it is beautiful. /is/ what makes the balance worth striving for.

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