A Single Lonely Man Poem by Devon Slav

Given unto you as a gift. A gift you cannot understand. The gift that grants you will. The gift only given by a single lonely man.

A Single Lonely Man


A smoldering butt lay in the ashtray.
Yet another thing I spent time from my life today.
Idle thoughts contain me in the smoke as we fly away.

Grasping at the stars as I work my way through.
I catch one,
For it was the thing to do.

Burning in my mind revolving on what I think is true.
The star breaks the universe,
Where you are I,
And I are you.


A singularity of solitary where all is as one.


Uninhabited with none left to share your fun.

Black or white,
Moon or sun.
All things that could be have already been done.

All is one,
The universal brand.
We are the single lonely man.

Separate.
Free to interpret my takes on the plan,
Fragmented answers displayed in a way that I can't stand.
All things are known by a force many see as a White Bearded Man.
To him my future is a matter of time where time don't matter;
A vibrational chatter of the waves which flow throughout the land.

Part of a plan,
Chasing time and breaking life,
So that I may understand.

The beginning is as the end.
No more outs and ins as we take away the day today.
Our universe blends and may seem to fade away.

Earthly.
We remember forever the play we were made to play.
The will to do whatever we wish at the time we were made of clay.

Eternal.
The light you are forever,
The voice that paves the way.

A higher self with abilities that makes freewill seem bland.

The higher being I see and can say that I am.

In the eternal,
All are united,
Able to take a single stand.
When we are together,
As all things have been planned.


The universe will feel what it is,
What it is.
To be a single lonely man.


A feeling so depressive,
Void of the journey when rushed through the plan.

A feeling so moving,
Enabling any one that can.

Enabling the awareness of free will.

Enabling us to be what it is to be human.

Granting you the ability to use your own hands.


Your hands,
Engineered to operate your being in a way that beats with the bass in your band.

A band,
Given unto you.
As is always planned.

Orchestrated by you.

Played by you.

For reasons great as a rock in a singularity of sand.

The need to live your life the way you like because you can.
The need to be ignorant of what may give us a gift so grande.

Humbled.
It was.
Given unto you as a gift.
A gift you cannot understand.

A gift only given by a simple lonely plan.