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Medicine Man

Metaphysician

By Nicholas GoodmanPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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He was not your average thinker

Spent months dwelling on the esoteric and lost himself in thoughtful rhetoric

For the words can twist a sharp picture of the past, present and what's possible

Still, understanding is not attainable from that place

At least, on the subjective space

To know your own self takes a tremble of grace

A loss of the useless

Becoming Unsettled and displaced

There was not a simple sign

No delicate resign from the powers that rule the mind

So the thoughts that held themselves would never let go

Even if they knew they were disturbing the show

The truth would not be easily sought

His search to know would not be bought

Ransacked and rumbled he tangled his head

Looking and looking, yet lost in the dread

And he kept repeating

This is not my home, this is not my bed

I live far from here

My love deep and red

Asking was silly, the answers were curt

They saw his perspective lost in the dirt

He prayed up to the heavens

Cast fire upon the hell

Screamed for salvation

Asked if all could be well

The poets would pass him

He's crazy and lost

The mind is all muddled

His viewpoint far tossed

The Doctor saught a solution

Said to talk would ease your pain

Gave Xanax and Vicodin

But his world melded all the same

The reletivist laughed and smiled

Your view is what you make it

The truth is yours to create

Yet that truth, He couldn't take it

The materialist was ready to present

His case against God and all he sent

That this was all there ever Was

We're here from nothing just because

The nihilist gave a frightful jist

Of what it meant to ferment

He cursed this world and wonder

Saw our experiences as dement

The preachers would ask him

What is your life worth?

Give Jesus all your purpose

And follow him unto the dearth

The Buddhist would proclaim

That all this was in vein

The vanity of insanity

Would rot our simple brains

So release all your attachment

Let fire fall on all

Burn away impurities

Until nothingness you call

The yogi became a twister

Called the internal world the truth

All of this is an illusion

And what do you have for proof?

Uncover your own understanding

Find the self and give it love

Realized you seek the heavens

But they lay not below or above

I picked and picked the problems apart

Saw always that this mind would fall

No matter where my truth would start

Words couldn't express it all and all

So I would call

To the medicine man

Who he was, I never knew

When he spoke, words didn't come through

When he moved, stillness slept

When he sat, commotion crept

Paradox had lined his socks

Every house kept tight their locks

For fear he would come and show them slow

That these walls you cling are not what you know

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Nicholas Goodman

Poet. Writer. Avid Tea enthusiast. Truth seeker. Love maker. Wondering what makes the world smile and how I can create that in words.

https://www.instagram.com/alloflovespoetry/

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