I am the traveler –
No I was
I no longer travel
Thus I foot my light heart
pack my books and cart
Act the fool, withstand
put one foot in front
strike the door, with sand
Do I look the part?
like I still travel
yes, I came from the beach,
watched the stars
but my mind is a mess
I feel like I’m stressed, but
I think that’s for the best
I degenerate when I rest
so I have to work,
Casio-wristed, beaming
screaming out in the morning
an alarm without warning
so wake up
went to my office
wear my jacket
tried being honest
Are you a traveler? –
Yes you are.
You look the part.
Calm, egregious, dark
enigmatic, misunderstood
a dangerous addict
to identities whose essence you looted
Where is your cart?
I don’t bring carts anymore
I stopped bringing them to where I go
I feel stupid when I show
all the bullshit that I know
these fancy words that I learned
But you’re a traveler, Ghost Man
your identity is obvious
as the light of the day
the black of the night
the serenity of a birth
think of the sight
of a ghost, playing cards
with strangers, though replied
by darting off as the road gets tight
how is that awesome or right?
Yet I’m not trying to impress
One’s own mind is one’s own test.
Mighty yonder upon the fray.
Join them, so it may
speak in vapor and remaining? pray
as a tumor that refused to pay
to an old ego with latent trays
of unfinished sentences,
the echo of my own name
called once and never again
spoked to twice but always in vain
always the bane
of awkward silences
yet you succeeded
you conquered a land
you stayed your hand
you succeeded when they boasted change
and no one responded,
that’s your nature, Ghost Man,
to be free from the culture
yet as I grow older
I notice that the wild broken whole
the visitations, they abscond from hope
like a dust in the universe, they deplore
dreams about
future
marriage
vision
ideology
decisions
remedies
solutions
there’s no more place for a Ghost Man
I died a long time ago, I see
yet wandering is all I could be,
and perhaps it is my destiny
For you have watched greater pageants,
titanium-cladded Man-of-Wars,
tear apart nebulas, constellations destroyed,
doctrines of Sun Gods and Sun Kings
pretend they are no such thing
trick a planet to developing
technologies so deadly until
they resort to turning everything
into bright cinders of matter and unblinking,
thus you will witness
the Great Supernova.
On the peak of a long dead civilization,
bins of dusts, cremated fossils above,
atmospheric anticipation, they trust
of a tale beyond the waves of wasted words,
Deathless,
for I have enough of the Past,
and to wander the world, I must.