Conscious Folly Poem by Ray Anyasi

What don't we know
that we don't know?
We can't know.
What is it that lies out there in the realm of human conscious intercourse?
What is it that could be known but still unknown?
We can't know.
Where did we come from?
What was in the beginning?
Where did the beginning began from?
We don't know.
We can't know.
And it drives the mind mad.


We can't call a tune that is uncomposed.
We can't act a play yet unwritten.
We can't tell a story unconcieved.
The things that could be but hasn't been, can't become unless it is imagined.
What is that spark of genius that hasn't sparked but can spark?
We can't know.

The things we know
when we think
we know
are nothing but
an orgasm of ignorance
thrust into the
bottomlessness of
subconscious arrogance.
The earth was flat till we knew the milkyway.
The sky is blue if you don't know about the refraction of light.
The sun rises from the east if only you live on earth.
These We know.
If only they are true.
What don't we know that would make what we know false?
What can we see tomorrow to show us how blind we were yesterday?
We will keep fetching from shallow wells to quench the thirst of the desert.

The mind is slave
to knowledge it thinks
it owns but can't use.
It is an orphan begging for the rebirth of stillborn siblings.
It is held hostage by the impossible.
Ridiculed by the unthinkable.
Brought to its knees by unreachable wisdom.

Hence...
What we know
we don't know
is our salvation.