matter, does it matter what matters? or if matter is all there is, what then matters?

how much does matter
matter anymore?
it doesn't seem like it matters much
or maybe it matters
too much to me, i am such...

a serious fuck
too often at the cul-de-sac
"shit outta luck"

a dead end, i thought
could've been a road, a new begin
a fool of heart and hope, my sin

it matters if it matters to you
what you see and feel, go through
the ones i love, the very few
to various degrees, in varying hues

of color, shape and light reflected
a deeper divine of spirit, soul detected
let's be honest, some, yes,
matter more than most
depends on whom, your heart,
you take in and host

and how many, of course
how much room,
you've got left inside you
land of ever expanding insanity, doom

so much chaos, so much crazy
the ones numb and blind to it,
kind of amazing...
how they can sleep,
get by, "on the fly"
like nothing matters at all
so they don't even try

to make things matter
like manners, human kindness
"must be nice", to live
a perpetual state,
brainless and blinded

cities savaged and ravaged
burned to the ground
looted and left for dead
in the name of "let's protest"

yeah, and how does looting
and lighting shit on fire, really help
it doesn't, but gotta blame
your garbage behavior on everyone else

because it's not about
who anyone, anymore, is inside
if there is one even left,
behind the color of skin,
cover of culture, and eyes

real world problems,
complicated and deep seeded, yes
shit swept under the rug,
that needs proper truth and address

but how, do that
in a world so absorbed in
the pawn and the profit of "me"
and "my cross is
the only one that matters,
all i see"....

cuz it's a lie to say
there is that "melting pot,
great american", that used to be
what we ascribed to, what we believed

it's my culture versus your culture
and let's play
"who's the new villain, vulture"
expect everyone to bend
and take it in the ass
to make it easier for you
to feel catered to, get a pass...

there is shit stain on, amongst
every culture, every color, every race
and a blank look of "dead inside"
across too many a pair of eyes
with a permanently glued
phone on their face

people that have no concept
anyone else exists, but them
it's all around us, a disease
infectious, noxious, so then...

when does it matter?
beyond "far too left and far too right"
no nestling of nuance
whose got the attention span,
whose got the time?

its "out for me"
and "only me, mine"
that's called the modern age,
"human condition"
and it's begins and ends
with that thing we're all supposed
to have, called "an inside"...

things like character, consideration
they have died
empathy, compassion
killed, left slaughtered by their side

its exhaustion and overload
using each other as excuses
and entertainment
as punching bags and
poster childs,
"this diagnosis, let's glorify
and blame it"...

and gotta create more labels,
"look at me"
glom on, hold tight
desperate,
"so special, without them,
no identity, me"

cuz really, all that matters
is not a hell of a lot
of anything, anyone, to many..

except maybe who they're fucking,
their family and two, three real friends,
away from social media, yeah right
that means best guess one, if any

this, just the way it is,
It's called "here"
as in life, amongst
the very few ever truly know you,
care if you live, die or exist

so if that matters,
cherish whatever,
whomever, that matters

because it matters only,
if it matters to you
and maybe, like a miracle
you will find someone else

that shit actually matters,
from the "human on the inside",
rare state of being
mindful, loving, passionate, soul
sensitive to the "give means receiving"

and that matters
because without one
there could never exist

the beautiful bond, then,
of two


bowen hart roselli
6 september 2020
ringwald love