Heat

what burns why we burn?

i am just a tool made of tools

and i have forgotten myself, how to make tools

from other tools

now there are words

from the other's letters

copies of an instruction manual

distorted personally

into a brilliant stupidity

a tool made of tools

a disorder made of dysfunction

a damn made to break

what purpose made this purpose?

this river 

what will flow and what still flows

for we do have time

time time time to die

we know this, but not why

Author's Note

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

An existential piece here, and something of a somber one. The speaker seems to belittle himself, mentioning an instruction manual made of the letters of others, which he distorted into "a brilliant stupidity." There are other instances also, which have a self deprecating air to them. The last verse seems to take a different tack, saying we have time, but indicating it is just time to die. This poem shows deep thinking, but I wouldn't send it to a depressed person.

[Davidgeo]

Too much time is torture. Life needs to die so life can really live. I ask the question, why? Why does anything need to feel the heat? The answer is the answer... feeling the heat is why the heat exists. Why the heat exists in the first place, ha, well, you tell me?

[Poetic Beauty]

We live we work we try to find purpose and then when time has come to a close we die

At
Least this is what this poem spoken to me when I read it. Just my humble thoughts