'No Ideas But In Things' Poem by Yaritza Florencio

Diminutive, humble although alluring and appealing
Even substantially obstreperously
Bewitching in a way
Though quick to induct reflection and contemplation
To an afflicted mind
Problems and concerns mere knots undoubtedly
Appear untangled here: quietly and quickly
One distinct and unusually isolated yet simple bench
In a stretched out piece of land
In a solitary yet widely populated park where
A mind with many levels of complex emotion
May find some type of solace if not complete
Then minimal but this mind makes the attempt nonetheless

“No ideas but in things”
I say it
But do I get it?
Can a mind so filled with confusing emotions contradictory terms, impossible comparisons and possible paradox’s ever truly mean what she writes?
Is that possible?
“No ideas but in things”
Will the many levels of my thinking ever stop at the surface?
Will my perseverance to find a deeper meaning be put to rest?
Can I truly mean exactly what I say?
Not conceal the sadness under the happiness or the hate under that
Or the violence under peace and the
Confusing ideas that will work
Under the simple ones we put into practice
“No ideas but in things”
“No hidden meaning”
“No personality only appearance”
“No exposing what was not exposed”
“No understanding what is not seen”
“Only trusting the images you eye brings”
“No ideas but in things”

Can it be done? Even here
My place, my bench my isolated space in an overpopulated place
So much thinking, arguing, debating
Though never quite drifting off
Though never quite alone
Just thinking about
“No ideas but in things”
About my lost love
About cowardly running away while it seems as im being a hero
“No ideas but in things”
“No deception”
“No unclear understanding”
“only me”
“Only what those things are, not what they can be”
“No levels, only what you see”