Poems of the Atmos

The Ball. 6th April, 2018.

After a long talk regarding how to move forward with my unwritten undergraduate research paper on "Factors Influencing Career Choices," and the study's importance, the matter of obsolete degrees arose. As time passes, Richard, my step-dad, pointed out that knowledge degrades. It loses worth now as compared to its relevance when learned back then.

A poem then came out of our merry tease at how once we wrote, "That is a ball," and now we'd think, "So what?"

Now, if one wrote, "That is a ball," others would arc a brow and ask, "And so?" while looking for hidden meanings or seeing the ball as such.

It is an endlessly fascinating- yet simple- thing to think about:

That our perceptions of the world, time, and ourselves, can change so drastically. Thenceforth, this piece is called "The Ball".

It is interesting that our minds can change so much.
When young, principles were the pinnacle of knowledge and letters held the world.
Then we grew up and realized that principles were the letters of the world and the world had infinite forms.

It is interesting how we change so much.
The things we execute flawlessly now
Were once cumbersome then.
The things we envision now
Were once abstract ideas then.
The things we dream now
Ceased to exist then.

It is interesting how the world- no, reality- has morphed, live, before our eyes.
A disenchantment of time.
Of age.

It could be said that this is due to us becoming wise-
Now seeing the world with our own two eyes-
Now thinking critically and laying down both dreams and lies.

It could be said that rather than discarding dreams,
We seek to prove them real- or untrue-
We seek the Truth in REALity.
Or maybe we're just dreamers.

Yes, we must be dreamers.
But, oh, what sad dreamers.
Forgetting a lie...or realizing one.
To reach the point of forgetting

to laugh

to hope

to smile

to dream

to chase

to love

to fall

to weep-

We forget what it feels like to live...
And believe in Neverland.

These glitters of naivete hold a world of their own.
While it becomes obsolete, its principles can still be carried on.

"That is a ball," he said.
It certainly is- "The world, perhaps?" I guessed.
"Or it could just be a ball!"
I laughed. "That's true!"

Why think so much?
At times, aren't adults quite much?

It is a ball.
I say it is a ball.
So it shall be a ball.
Here, I will give it to you-

You have held it in your hands
And your soul has reflected upon it
In shades, design, and color.

I am "God".
This is my world.
Therefore, this is my ball.
It decides where a new universe begins and ends.
It helps me tie loose ends.
You limit yourself to that ball in your hands.
A "smarter" one will hold the world in his hands.

Look deeper.
Then look further.
You foolish reader, I hold REALity in my hand and there is nothing more beautiful than this.
The orb rolls along the lines and comes to a stop...with [.]

Finished:
Karen, Nairobi
22 years old.

Edited: 18 January, 2019.