Oskar Roux's Rambles in Shambles

The Black (w)hole There's that thing that lingers In every one of us. Staying just out of sight, But not out of mind. One  Black (w)hole. Two halves of a whole. Two holes that see desire. Two pieces to the puzzle, Two mysteries to decode and Two logs to the fire. Two constellations that congregate Two great stars that pulse and burn. Two great ebbs and flows of time and space Two tiny wrinkles on eternity's face. Like the earth around the sun I revolve around thee. But like our universe in the grandeur We're ineffective in the scheme. Yet the only universe in which we can cause some revolution. Is the vault deep within our minds of which silence is noise pollution. And the worst enemy is time. A black whole Three times bigger than one would like to admit. Two halves of the whole of our mind, which in turn is a bottomless pit. And One the life we live in this revolving bundle of mass and gas. So use it to your fullest potential And be about your wit.

RING The day slowly grinds to a start. As the wild and studious students awake from their social slumber and deliriously make their presence known in classes. They shift along like a hoard of zombies. Just slightly livelier than zombies though for they talk and text, but they still, figuratively, want your brains! They saunter inside, take their positions and then much like an unenthusiastic orchestra, they sit when acknowledged. I stand, as the silence roars, I can begin my teaching. Moving and weaving like a liquid through a maze (amazing), finding my way to the centre, their brains. Accessing and pinpointing their storage cabinets, trying to cram them full of my knowledge, passing it on, and paying it forward. Unlocking their potential. Some of the hoards participate and thrive, while the others barely seem to be alive. They stare and grunt while the other push and shunt. Trying to be the first in line, to ask and query they’re questions and solve their complex answers.