~ in the kitchen of your sentiments

~ in the kitchen of your sentiments

A Poem by . serah .

somewhat poetic prose; i write merely to exercise my right to write; i'm a hardcore atheist but i like the concept of analytical meditation which simply means meditating about a serious problem...

monsieur scalpel,
you won't see me slip away
from the steady grip of your surgical gloves
(oh, i do remember how much you love the australian ones
without powder 
you said they feel like second skin)
i litter the air with words
attempting to be verse
just so you can be protected
from my own abyss of silence
which is more a river of patience
than barren land where flowers don't grow
or flutterbys don't visit
but you don't know that
you don't know the river which flows in me
you can't tell from my cursive writing
that i glide from one letter to another
and never need to lift my fountain pen
in the middle of a word
while you disconnect after every letter
in a word
detaching the nib from contact with paper
to slice the onion of my sentiments
so finely
that they barely exist
except to be fried before being turned
into crisps
which make your emotional intake delicious
when you sometimes
venture into the kitchen of your sentiments
i live there
in a corner of the counter
behind the microwave
and i have conversations
with all the spiders who spin webs
around me
it's called analytical meditation
which is very different from "emptying" meditation
and so
when i heard the Dalai Lama
speak about it
in and interview 
given to Dr. Sanjay Gupta
on CNN
i smiled my chipped-tooth smile
because something struck me
like lightening
and i realized
that if we start voting raving lunatics
into power
in democracies
then the only process that can save us
from committing blunders
is the psychiatric evaluation
of all candidates
who want to contest elections
i know that i cannot make this something
which is required by law
but there's a certain amusement
to be derived from the fact
that i thought about a potential solution
before reading about it
you see, i know that edison invented the light bulb
but i am pretty sure 
there were some unsung edisons
out there
who did not have the ability
to register their invention
but were inventors nonetheless
they were happy people
and i cannot rattle off their names on demand
(i don't know them)
or find pictures of their sketches on google
but they existed
and maybe they don't matter to anybody
but they do matter to me
because i think about them
and when i do
i think about you
and wonder if you will be able to do an edison
with your innovative thoughts on curing cancer
and my guess is
that you'll succeed
that's why i am silently very happy these days
but secretive
because i don't want you to think about my thoughts
in a corner behind the microwave
in the kitchen of your sentiments
which you visit so rarely these days
that it seems like you don't visit it all
it's alright
you should just slog and slog and slog
and keep me enthralled
it seems to me that you have intuitively
and instinctively figured out
a different secret of mine
and i thought i should confirm it today
yes, i cannot handle too much attention
i'm happiest when i'm quietly observing
an inventor at work

© 2017 . serah .

Author's Note

. serah .

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Added on February 19, 2017
Last Updated on February 19, 2017


. serah .
. serah .

~ poetry is rarely found solely in words... Profile image: http://www.stephaniefehrenbach.ca/prints/grey-leaf 9th December, 2016. 03:17 am I write merely to exercise my right to w.. more..