The Eternal Flaw

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

slyly sneak in to his vacant work area,
where the redundant poles rest,
(the sun, captive, allowed only partial entry)
jammed, rigid and fallow,
disguised as purpose,
a grand desire,
or a tool,
for the execution
of a picky design,
yes, a fussy format.

his sphere of perfection is
only just close to flawlessness
yet,the inevitable,
callous loopholes,
he is unable to plug;
the glaring built-up defects
are shrewdly manipulated,
as 'reason',
for me to interpret.
the deficiency of a definite conception
finely tuned by the potential thought
“why this way”;
the alternative being his choice.
(for example the poles bear
the brunt of the great oceans,
the sailors and the magnets
hung about breathless and inert,
unable to look at the sun).

(here,caught in the act,
I run behind my shadow,
pursued hotly by
the night’s vested interest,
limited now, again by purpose,
but without reason).

standards are hard to keep,
even for Him
for the self-made rationale
inhibited Him.
then who fashioned all this?
the limited,
well defined(so called),
makeshift- Idea.

may be 'I'

Published in lesserflamingo Issue Six March 2010


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