must, find, soul

I'm choking for life,

in a white, plaster box;

poem won't save me.

 

Inhuman transformation;

man and machine to monster.

 

Ugly, broken, worn-out hybrid,

new technology won't save me.

 

Must,

find,

soul.

Love and science

Love faces the same problem science does;

a lack of evidence.

 

Love breaks down when you ask for proof;

"How much do you love me?"

"a lot"

"how much?"

"with all my heart.."

useless words.

 

How can you describe the feeling?

You can't.

Your language fails you.

 

It doesn't matter hos intricate your description,

how extensive your vocabulary,

humans have demeaned the word 'love,'

and it's nowhere near representative,

of the series of feelings it represents.

 

It's not your fault you can't explain it,

language is broken,

it's out-of-sync with life,

language is a series of symbols we use,

so we can sort of understand one another,

occasionally.

 

It's as exact a science, and as productive,

as fishing with dynamite,

if fish were the staple of your diet.

 

To use the cliché,

love is still the best game in town,

so we deal with it because,

the alternatives are undesirable.