Foot of the Mountain

in my fist

What is my dream? I don't know.
I almost I had it in my teens,
but in my twenties, it slipped away
like a fastball off the side of my palm.
I now know the things I like,
linen, rose-gold, Manhattan on the rocks,
clarity of thought, my go-to order at Little Caesars.
I can yap about things I don't like—
the color blue, the way my hair falls,
the aftertaste of chocolate, the sound of car horns,
But what is my dream? I don't know.

There's a faint memory that plays in my head—
a déjà vu, a prophecy, a vision of some kind.
A clock as big as the moon orbits me.
No coos, no chirps, no hums, no buzzes,
just an inanimate sky filled with ticking of time.

I walk naked all day on checkered tiles,
Nothing but a distant abyss in far sight.
a charred horizon if you look at it from all fours.
When I fall asleep, I see a mountain
so tall that it touches the sky.
maybe even taller than the clock-moon that orbits me.
And then an apple hits my head, but there's no tree.
It falls from the sky, I must climb the mountain.

assigned a mission
so grand in its scope
that I feel like an ant at the foot
of a mountain, ready to climb,
only to once have felt the euphoria
of having climbed it all,
after years of gruntwork
and dedication, sweat and tears,
turmoil and transcendence.

What is my dream? I want to endure
the clockwork of the system,
be a martyr on a mission,
a hero of a Sci-Fi film. I want to be at odds
with the system, so that I can break change.
I want that fuel flowing through my veins,
to sing schematics of a new world
to those who lack the imagination,
and to those who don't listen.
I want to first gather the capital,
and then the courage, and lastly
aim for ultimate consciousness
to break the change.
Must my hard-work bypass years of evolution
to let go of the survival instinct, fly like icarus
I must first overcome myself, and then become
undefeated by the system that's stands against us.

--

What is my dream? I don't know.
I thought I had it, but now I'm not so sure
There are things that I like,
and things that I don't,
but someday I hope I get
assigned a mission
so grand in its scope
that I feel like an ant at the foot
of a mountain, ready to climb,
only to once have felt the euphoria
of having climbed it all,
after years of gruntwork
and dedication, sweat and tears,
turmoil and transcendence.

What is my dream? I want to endure
the clockwork of the system,
be a martyr on a mission,
a hero of a Sci-Fi film. I want to be at odds
with the system, so that I can break change.
I want that fuel flowing through my veins,
to sing schematics of a new world
to those who lack the imagination,
and to those who don't listen.
I want to first gather the capital,
and then the courage, and lastly
aim for ultimate consciousness
to break the change.
Must my hard-work bypass years of evolution
to let go of the survival instinct, fly like icarus
I must first overcome myself, and then become
undefeated by the system that's stands against us.