Pink Hearse

The Sculptor

When a sculptor chisels away at their block of marble,

Are they creating the sculpture within

Or uncovering it?

Before the sculpture is even began,

How many other sculptures live inside that block of marble?

How many could you count and call real?

When do they become not real anymore?

And where do they go

Once you’ve chosen one to create?


Feel the intensity and force with which your feet are connected to the ground.

Look at the air around you.

It is made up of molecules, much more simple than (and very different from)

The molecules that make you who you are.

But molecules are made up of atoms

And atoms of even tinier pieces of matter.

The only difference between the atoms in the air

And the ones on your fingers

Are how they connect to each other to form molecules.

But at your base level,

You could be a cup or a chair,

Or a current in the ocean.

If you paint by numbers

The picture doesn’t reveal itself until you are done

Assigning colors to different pieces of a big,

White page.

Who is this white page?

Do we call it one being?

What was its motivation for coloring itself in

Turning itself to multitudes?

Did it even have a choice?

Before the white page was even colored in

How many different pictures could be created from it?

Are they real?

Are they real even after they’ve been colored in?


This entry was published on October 26, 2016 at 1:47 am. It’s filed under Philosophy, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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