A Thought About Thought

Poem By Benjamin Mitchell

Now and then I think too much
Or sometimes I think so,
Yet thoughtlessness seems like a crutch
For those who dare not know.
I do detest such weakness:
Those that don't think hardly exist
Yet with thought comes a meekness
Pounded in by the mind's fist.
Not that I think much of me
Not quite in that respect
I think I think with decency
With judgments more or less correct.
I'd like to think that thinking's
The thoughtful thing to do,
Yet some thoughts have me sinking
To depths I cannot, should not view.
I once thought myself able
Of thinking it all out.
I thought my thoughts were stable,
But oft they make me doubt.
I've fought my thoughts and prayed for peace
From rotten thoughts I begged release
And yet no pleas for peace can ease
This maddening mental disease.
Since then I soothe my weary head
With the masses' opiate
Tempering the caustic thought
With threads of optimism wrought.
You might think me a coward
That even from my thoughts I hide
But think of all the power
I have now that my God's my guide.
For I no longer think of thought
As some masochistic pyre.
It's more a noble fight well fought
Against my most carnal desires.

Comments about A Thought About Thought

There is no comment submitted by members.


5,0 out of 5
1 total ratings

Other poems of MITCHELL

Anatomy By Braille

Like a coal, her hair's afire
Not bright, but burning all the same;
And so inside me burns desire:
A low, smouldering, crimson flame.

Alone In The Crowd

It's times like these I start to fear
That I was born for a different sphear:
It seems there's not much for me here
Nothing, no one that I hold dear.

Pain

I've heard it said that pain
Often lays entwined with pleasure,
yet most rent them in twain
Not wanting the both of them together.

Twin Oases

Oh those eyes, those bright brown eyes,
Like some scared mountain spring
Once served this dusty traveller
With needed drink and filled canteen.

Cutting Ties To Simpler Times

I gave up my pride for fifteen dollars
And sat as she cut it with care,
Wondering why, for my pride, I paid fifteen dollars
As I sat, sinking slowly into the chair.