Know, See, Feel

What comfort naivete!  What a curse to know!

To know is to know that you don’t know

The one that knows cannot not know, and so pursues

The things that make us and hold our hearts

Where the soul rests, the more they are loved

Slowly grow until the pattern cannot hold them

We know there must be more to know

Brightness to discover and darkness to drive away

Like a painting in a gallery we stare transfixed

Eyes starving for every minute detail

Then comes a tap on the shoulder and a voice says

“Ah! But have you seen this one?”

 

What comfort to see!  What a curse to have seen!

To see is to know that there is more to see

One that has seen must keep seeing

The eyes now straying from your own picture behold the wall

A wall as wide and as tall as your entire life and more

Infinite paintings of revelry and sorrow, heroes and villains, right and injustice

Billions of people, billions of places, calling, clamoring, craving to be known

Piercing brightness, desperate darkness

Impossible to see them all but you can’t look away

You must know, for now you know you don’t know

And you have seen there is so much more to see

So, you tap a shoulder, “Ah! But have you seen this one?”

 

What comfort to feel!  What a curse to have felt!

To feel is to know one cannot not feel

Having felt you must keep feeling

The inestimable wall pours into you, overwhelming the senses

Brightness stirring the choirs of Heaven, darkness from the pits of Hell

You feel it all, all of it, your mind stunned and senses blurred

At once, everything is in color - but also black and white

You love it, and hate it, and there is no going back

As if you could cap a geyser with your hand

For having known and seen and felt, you must know and see and feel

But you can’t do it alone

So, you tap a shoulder

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

Brad, I commend you for how well you described this double-edged sword we call "knowledge." As I read this poem, I thought about watching the births of my daughter and son, and the last person I watched die entrapped in an inverted car.

Just traveling time makes innocence and naivete things in the rear-view mirror. We're a species that thrives on not only knowledge but exploration, and with exploration comes wonderful discoveries and the worst tragedies. But, as you so captured so well at the end, we do these things together. I suppose that's how we enjoy life and also endure its hardships. A well-crafted poem rich with truth.

[Brad]

Thank you very much, this is my favorite that I've done so far, but I still felt like I hadn't quite gotten it right. That means a lot.

[R.E. Ray]

You're welcome. I'll tell you that I've never published a poem I thought was 100%, and I often go back, even months later and make changes. I think it's pretty good as is.

[barleygirl]

WOW! What a deep poem without coming across as overly complex at all! It's not like you're showing off your words, like some poets do (like I often do, with a deficit of meaty thoughts) . . . instead you're showing off your thought processes. Being an airhead most of the time, thinking only in wild spurts myself, I really envy a poet who can throw down this much thoughtful stuff that we really want to delve into & not sounding like philosophical masturbation (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie