…we
come to palatial skies, peering into intuition, while lingering in knowledge:
those pure souls, those gentle creatures, this worth giving life: as dark
hearts, or colonial powers, to witness such remnants: our communication, our
thoughts concerning color, our mimicry attraction: to admire sheer fantastic,
our differing odors, our eyes pushing into humans: to diagnose core-pain, to
sip orange-nectar, at splendor and castle and heartbreak: our mystic dice, our
mystic lives, our mystic song: as immortal faucets, laughing through
undertones, attempting to capture something unique: at play-store wands, at
wireless energies, at storehouse affections: to die with uneasiness, to feel
torn-frustration, to settle into an afternoon nap: our memories shouting, our
evils as pellets, or so evolved we seek religious comfort: this deep turnaround,
that old atheist, or those darkened warlocks: to seek and perish, to drift
through college, to rewind into something yonic: that womb adventure, our inner
beats reaching pre-birth, our intuition yearning for its first mother: at
breath and signs, at disagreements, at airs and beams of lightning….
I
left a mindcave…I came into her presence…I watched and admired and shunned:
indeed, this tricky landscape, this mystic mountain, or those years while
something is rising: this sheer insanity, to take offense, where something
feels attracted: this game we examine, this life we dine with, where such observance happens time and again: our legacy
arcs, that inner phone, our over-fretted answering services: those a.m. grins,
at mere a thought, while minds give life to fantasy: that atypical drug, our
haywire ‘transmitters, such rich concerns for strangers: this frustrating art,
this frustrating branch, while kneeling our palms filled with worms: those
cedar thoughts, that trenchant undergrowth, or akin to insignificant insects:
our mystic madness, to contradict feelings, where minds zoom into focus: our
profound desires, this need for romance, this battle through renowned poets: at
terrible friction, those terms embedded, while living life murmuring an insignificant
name: as more contradiction, or favored paradox, our souls exchanging vows: at
mere a ribbon, dancing for alive, while fair pain seemed so gentle.
…such
garden expansion, our livewire ribs, those bellicose tendencies: our palatial
skies, those out-whispering eyes, while so reserved our neighbors are
intrusive: as flying souls, at feast and minds, or better, aligned with our
intuitions: our sturdy attractions, to have that experience, if but so crude
and appealing: those fantastic ventriloquists, so trenchant our heart-pain, to
have something we’ve lived before: our special souls, at vigorous vibrations,
to feel comfortable with some: our thunder brains, or mystic literature, seated
for settled doing nothing: those talkative flowers, those electrical emotions,
where time is persistent: to possess Love, after years of abeyance, to realize
Love was set free: this masterful love, this uncaged love, our hands to paints
and silent music: our pianos if but ink, our necks reaching, our laughs with
understanding….
I
think and scratch…I need lotion…I need something that would un-birth something
that gives light: this contradiction, if but mitigated silence, to realize that
brains augment reality: to place one too high, to disappointment self, where
unsaid person is a genius human: if but to see, to outreach our impositions, to
actually adore a wonderful soul: but this is life, this need for deliverance,
this turn towards religiosity: our needs for superpowers, our battles with
balance, or this creeping ‘thing’ that feels dissociative: for life is gray,
our minds are journeying, while reality is slipping: but we manage to exist, to
live our screams, even to experience Love: this magnanimous soul, this fearless
soul, this soul with parachutes.
