074 Pandora's Box

Initially, I thought it was difficult to have the Pandora's Box on my lap and resisting the temptation to open it. Now, I know it is actually more difficult to be in the Pandora's Box and hoping no one opens it. But, it is still good to know that together with whatever tinder in the box I have with me now, like the legend goes, there is always hope together with the chaos, it's like keeping water next to the flames. This poetic-ness should mark the end of a particularly long and bittersweet day I had, full of surprises from the beginning to the end, there is just so much to say but just so little will to write it down. I'm still waiting for the lost "Lost and Found" poem to be found.

So while that happens, I should tell you to brace yourselves for another coded entry about today, however this one is different, the entry is half-encrypted and half normal text. In fact, I think that it would be both interpersed with each other, because half the things I want to publish while the other half is... more private. That would make an interesting entry. I think.

That aside, here's the last poem I have now, I stopped writing a few months back because I indulged in some other things and also because I'm growing busier. So. here it is...

The Unquestioned Answers Poems Series

Cold, Dry, Damp and Hot

A corridor darker than the rest,
On the hot, sunny afternoons I knew,
Was bright on that stormy morning,
The winds contested for influence,
All ignored persuasion and appealing nonsense,
I knew how to stand in that gale of winds,
As concrete as the movements of diffused ideas,
Were the pitches I was told and I was asked,
To choose something, insignificant someone,
Or somewhere to the tune of the shaking,
Of the steady ground below, rumbling,
The stories on how high and stable,
You can be on a house of cards,
And how successful you can be,
From selling diamonds to a miner,
And buying coins from a beggar,
All this a short story cut long,
Of a skeptic’s beliefs and principles,
Held perpetually steadfast for a moment,
A collection of orthodox paradoxes,
From an outstanding recluse in a silent crowd,
On how to meticulously fail to plan,
And leave the scene as an immature wise man
By answering the unquestioned questions,
That simplify the complicated straight road,
Which is the life that we die in everyday.