~ in the kitchen of your sentiments

somewhat poetic prose; i write merely to exercise my right to write; i'm a hardcore atheist but i like the concept of analytical meditation which simply means meditating about a serious problem...

monsieur scalpel,

you won't see me slip away

from the steady grip of your surgical gloves

(oh, i do remember how much you love the australian ones

without powder 

you said they feel like second skin)

i litter the air with words

attempting to be verse

just so you can be protected

from my own abyss of silence

which is more a river of patience

than barren land where flowers don't grow

or flutterbys don't visit

but you don't know that

you don't know the river which flows in me

you can't tell from my cursive writing

that i glide from one letter to another

and never need to lift my fountain pen

in the middle of a word

while you disconnect after every letter

in a word

detaching the nib from contact with paper

to slice the onion of my sentiments

so finely

that they barely exist

except to be fried before being turned

into crisps

which make your emotional intake delicious

when you sometimes

venture into the kitchen of your sentiments

i live there

in a corner of the counter

behind the microwave

and i have conversations

with all the spiders who spin webs

around me

it's called analytical meditation

which is very different from "emptying" meditation

and so

when i heard the Dalai Lama

speak about it

in and interview 

given to Dr. Sanjay Gupta

on CNN

i smiled my chipped-tooth smile

because something struck me

recently

like lightening

and i realized

that if we start voting raving lunatics

into power

in democracies

then the only process that can save us

from committing blunders

is the psychiatric evaluation

of all candidates

who want to contest elections

i know that i cannot make this something

which is required by law

but there's a certain amusement

to be derived from the fact

that i thought about a potential solution

before reading about it

you see, i know that edison invented the light bulb

but i am pretty sure 

there were some unsung edisons

out there

who did not have the ability

to register their invention

but were inventors nonetheless

they were happy people

and i cannot rattle off their names on demand

(i don't know them)

or find pictures of their sketches on google

but they existed

and maybe they don't matter to anybody

but they do matter to me

because i think about them

and when i do

i think about you

and wonder if you will be able to do an edison

with your innovative thoughts on curing cancer

and my guess is

that you'll succeed

that's why i am silently very happy these days

but secretive

because i don't want you to think about my thoughts

in a corner behind the microwave

in the kitchen of your sentiments

which you visit so rarely these days

that it seems like you don't visit it all

it's alright

you should just slog and slog and slog

and keep me enthralled

it seems to me that you have intuitively

and instinctively figured out

a different secret of mine

and i thought i should confirm it today

yes, i cannot handle too much attention

i'm happiest when i'm quietly observing

an inventor at work

Author's Note