We
yield by wisdom, conditioned by lights, our daughters swimming clouds—while
privileged by rites, our rafts wobbly, our extensions tugging at roots; such as
magnifying, our murky glass, pelted by resistance; to fumble excellence, while
seizing glory, our dreams to avalanches.
We texture silence, seated by rivers, breathing while animals scurry:
our torn tunics; our consecrations; our inner renewals—if but to live, our
welkin decisions, as mulct by appetites.
Shift
What
is such madness, this pillage by sacrifice, this space reaching for oxygen?
I
face dilemmas; this inward bear; this face of humans…while weary to sights,
feeding on instruments, about his mind’s reluctance: fraught by frustration,
seated by no-thing, at measures
bombarding his brains; this psyche of souls, to perch with resistance, to
admire an inner distance.
Shift
We
love for closure, our methodic violins, pressure to acknowledge our grays; that
palm of seaweed, those joyous attributes, our waves to ethical pains: this
grave as breathing, while seizing loins, to defeat as such to revive—that achy
curse, to strengthen with time, this inner game of non-romanticism: if but to caves, splayed before our tribunals, to
awaken in moisture.
Shift
I’ve
known beauty, as seeing so many forms, at arcs impressed by a clear conscience;
this place of tyrannies, harvested in brains, as, herein, we die a thousand
deaths. Our poets scream; our novelists cringe; our musicians rage through
mood-shifts; as all for sameness, this exchange of curses, at woes to capture
that tropical feeling; as pure amazement, or sheer weariness, this expectance
of inner survival: our blankness; our troubled rhythms; our memories by
mirrors.
Shift
If
life is gray, we offend black and white, while acting in black and white; at
total disclosure, this rare physics, hereto, a product of human experience; to
plead for glory, awakened by behavioral
tactics, while forced to adhere to convictions: this philosophy of silence;
as sensing for differences; while flabbergasted by those waiting volts; or more
to consciousness, as trespassed our vineyards, our souls sensing themselves;
that sudden nuance, that shift in intensity, that gaze piercing from crypts our
eyes; to examine life, while watching self, afloat dreamy-sadness.
Shift
