Poetry

February 13, 2015 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

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By

Scott Thomas Outlar

 

Rhythm

 

 

Rhythm is the flow of the cosmos

when it cycles

a beat at a time to the ends

of the earth

and back

and forth

and up and down,

this way and that,

from beginning to middle to end again.

 

 

Rhythm is the force of pressure

that pulsates

as a vibration

through the mind,

picking up on the Word –

Genesis point, Origin source –

as an antenna

homing in on the final answer.

 

 

Rhythm is a little lie

we tell ourselves

as we dance

to shake off the horror,

a way to embrace the chaos

instead of collapsing in a heap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fallen

 

 

Some people

would like to merge with –

that is to say,

become one with –

machines, thus becoming

cyborgs.

They call themselves Futurists.

But I think

these people

are just scared

of the present moment,

and scared of

their emotions as humans,

thus are scared

of their basic humanity.

I think

these people

fear death, thus

they want to find

a way

to live forever.

I think

these people

are divorced

from their souls,

thus they

serve Satan

as they

try to become

like unto gods,

following that snake’s lies

and false promises.

 

 

 

 

Seated

Scott Thomas Outlar

Scott Thomas Outlar lives a simple life in the suburbs, spending the days flowing and fluxing with the Tao River, laughing at life’s existential nature, and writing prose-fusion poetry dedicated to the Phoenix Generation. His words have appeared recently in venues such as Midnight Lane Boutique, Dissident Voice, Siren, Section 8, and Dead Snakes. His debut chapbook “A Black Wave Cometh” is forthcoming from Dink Press. More of Scott’s writing can be found at 17numa.wordpress.com.

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