Feb 10
TheMuffinMan's picture

Our bodies

Our bodies 

Are nothing more than flesh and bone
Held together with knotted chucks of cartilage and rubberized tendons,
Muscle and fat laced thoroughly with nerves, and filled with blood from an organic pump.

Organs are just tools
Stuffed inside a sack of skin
Like rusty gears inside the clock that ticks itself to death.

We are flesh  
Controlled by a lump of grey Jello trapped in its brittle prison.
We are born, we live, we die.

We are machines.

Right?

Except there is one crucial detail that elevates us from the mechanics of our bodies
that allows us to dream, to play,
To sit around a fire and contemplate our brains, our thoughts, and our beings.

Point to the organ in your body that makes you smile when a baby laughs
That flutters and quakes when you’re waiting in the wings, about to go onstage.
Jun 01
TheMuffinMan's picture

The World Weeps


The World Weeps

For those we’ve lost.
It cries
Not for the fighting, but for the dying.
Its sadness is not for one side or another, but for the ones who lie silent in the sand.

The world weeps when a bullet flies 
The world dies
When that bullet finds its mark

Whether it was painted black or white 
The world weeps 
all the same.