“STAR WARS: THE RISE OF STORIES.” a poem December 22, 2019 (Sunday)
“The Rise of Skywalker” and “The Holy Grail,”
& The Bible Story all tell THE TALE,
OF HOW MUCH WE NEED STORIES TO BARELY THRIVE.
Without any stories, would we even survive?
Or would we “go down the tubes,” insane and alone?
“Ye who can answer cast the first stone.”
We suck on stories because we’re hungry, almost starved,
For some taste of Pseudo Truth; upon stories we have carved,
Out mostly tasteless meat, as from a turkey platter,
Stories (and) more stories. What is the matter?
With just living this life without making another tall tale,
Without spinning yarns? There are “story lines” without fail?
Perhaps because we’re terrified (that) ifToExplainLIFE, we can’t makeUP reasons,
We will drift in and out of endless sets of seasons,
Afraid to finally realize that we’re living in a dream,
One seemingly somewhat continuous and solid? with [Look, there’s] a seam,
Connecting some kind of fabric, which we desire to say is REAL.
IF it’s NOT then our existence is no big deal.
Then, it’s simply a dream, and (horror of horrors) we are just dream parts,
And someone may be observing us? This pains our little hearts,
Which don’t want to imagine THAT EXISTENCE ISN’T “AWESOME,”
BUT what if it isn’t? And we’re just “playing possum,”
When the big, cruel killer called THE MYSTERY? comes into view?
Before She gets close, we play dead; it is all we can do,
To play dead and wait UNTIL THIS MENACE? HAS SEEMINGLY GONE?
Then, we leap back up, relieved and write us a story to try to con,
Ourselves into believing that we’ve surely now got IT figured out.
Without a story to explain our SELF PROCLAIMED PROFUNDITY, we cry & pout,
We wail in sackcloth, shave our beards and stomp the ground.
“Give me a good story, Story Teller, and I’ll give you 1/2 pound.”