a vulcan state of mind

i am not spock.

time?

the 23^rd century…

the place?

the hearts and minds

of every trekkie

who ever dared

raise an eyebrow,

or attempt to paralyze

a buddy

with a neck pinch surprise.

the green-blooded hobgoblin

was calm and collected,

while making bones

and others

feel agitated and dissected

more times than expected…

oftentimes disrespected.

without a smirk

or a grin,

his logic would begin.

sentient strings

of subliminal sentences,

explaining  complicated instances,

yet meeting the consciousness

on an uncluttered plane

of uncompromised confidence.

blank stare…

but it made sense

to the pointy eared

purveyor of proficiency.

i am spock.

as whiffs of smoke

turned  to solemn cries

for understanding,

we were blessed

with a man

who embraced his destiny

and shared a revelation.

being split in two

was a reality and nightmare

causing a constant battle

of the flesh and mind.

the human race

would do well

to mimic an alien

who adapted

to life

in his living hell.

he survived

because his intelligence

dominated both sides

and forced them

to live together…

as one in peace.

he lived long and prospered.

if only the denizens of earth

could do the same.

raise the v

and boldly remember

his name.

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