"A Beautiful Gift" - Poem by BW Derge from "The Sun Will Eat You, Too" - written in 2021, the title comes from the line, "Death is beautiful, an almighty gift from the stars..."
A Beautiful Gift
Eventually, the plastic film snaps off
And the flesh, for better or worse,
Is free-
The monster races off to feed
His ravenous needs-
The ghost floats back
To the abyss-
To the dense plasma
Composing intergalactic space,
The splendor of black living matter,
The eternal bliss of dark energy,
Wrapped in Russel’s quandary of sets,
And the non-trivial zeros
That encompass and encumber us-
We disproved their cold militaristic calculus-
Gödel would be a proud motherfucker
If he could see these spirits mount the hill
To boast how love outlived all
Completely, yet through incompleteness,
The paradox of perfection-
In the long tortoise race of eternity-
The mathematicians,
Along with all the other
Supposedly logical brainwaves,
Remain lost and confused
When it comes to what to do-
The skin ripped away those lofty chains
And the saran constrictions of time and space,
While the vampires invaded
The nearest blood bank,
And the phantoms flew off like moths
Out of our galaxies-
To the darkness, they march away ironically
From the usual allurement of lights
To be conjoined with mindful peace
That mindlessly sifts across the cosmos
In cold corners,
Where frozen cocoons hang atop
A mysterious infinity,
Awaiting a butterfly’s wings to emerge
Only to find they’re too frozen to flap and fly,
And at last the lifetime of a proton
Will be known-
How does a clown know when it is time
To remove his make-up?
How long must we wait
Until identities are futile to pursue?
The encasement of suffering
That consumed conscious patterns
Is a plastic translucent wrapping,
Twisting around the bones in such a manner
That it feels inescapable,
And the pain is irrefutably unbearable,
But once the adaptation
Of the self-referential loop is grasped,
The eyes see the true weakness of the coating-
A mere temporal mind-trap of desire
That must be tossed away,
So eventually, the plastic just snaps right off-
The brain is eased as demons race away,
But the cerebral meat remains to contemplate
The short longevity of time and space
Consuming the weightlessness of experience
Based on limited moments
In which the melting of physical planes
Becomes clear-
Death is beautiful,
An almighty necessary gift from the stars
To become something new-
by BW Derge
all rights reserved 2024 ©
Poem was originally written in 2021
