…it
becomes stress, this galaxy of obligations, our hard-won futures: this galaxy
of angst, those silent seconds, at needs proving our souls: those tender
petals, those velvety leaves, this life of prose: our delicate/fragile dreams,
screaming while kicking, easily vanished: this planet of visions, those fuming
regards, peering at something intricate: this maze of valleys, this cave of
demands, where life meets determination….
…those unspoken flutters, those jasper feelings, upon a jasmine rose:
those concrete ideals, vanished by abstract realities, while fishing for solid
footing: at memories with thoughts, this interior whirling, leaning into vipers:
our seeking minds, to witness dynamics, if but to harness those dreams…. I wrestle gently—this spacecraft
furniture, this in-between spacial: such pushy particles, even thought-matter,
fueled by genetic splices: running with scissors, addressing this laundry
center, seated upon eruption: as someone smart, or something cautious, or
someone guided: those flesh eaters, situated in brains, with secular demands:
or disappearing, into this private lagoon, bathing in algae: alike to vacation,
alike to running fast, alike to returning quicker: this planet of dynamite, our
luxuries with addendums, our souls inculcated: this slow process, this
involuntary process, where suddenly we feel jaded: our tender objectives, our
works in season, our minds by irrationalities.
…this
inner film crew, distressing photographs, at bridges looking to cross: our
battles with instincts, those open characters, this watching for flowers: to
witness budding, to harvest existence, to love and laugh and play and perish—as
frolicking warriors, if but this scream, where life has met with happiness:
this space in parts, our mind’s realities, while so close we fail to see: even
at arts, missing pieces, and never quite certain of intention: those floating
mirages, this sky-caricature, or this multiplicity of sources: to settle here,
while she settles there, both arguing over similar substances: if but those
wings, to arrive in that Kingdom, while fretted by happiness: this slight
insight, as familiarity is troublesome, where we seek different intensities:
this soul to silence, this world to religiosities, and our minds to indexes….
…becoming
sentience, living in awareness, as it becomes its seeker: cleansing our wells,
excavating our planets, arranging our coppice: or standing courts, afore
caprice, laughing ironically: these small things, this trenchant reserve, this
electrical reservoir: to possess indigo, or melancholia, or some variance of
rich deepness: as souls charged, reaching heights, to happen upon a reflexive
examination: our personalities, if but chance we see, at something alarming:
those flailing thoughts, our extra weight, or our metaphorical diets: this
cycle by life, our rubric sensations, if but to purchase by sentimentalities….
…it
becomes our mirror, this thought-reflector, this piece of us speaking
gibberish: if but our souls, so entrenched, and so at vulnerability: if but
such trust, while too close for private breaths, while too alive to bleed
injustice: this archaic sword, this human need, while too shallow to escape
mirrors: our blended essence, our simultaneous hearts, our cages seeming like
freedom: our watered seeds, our tilled soil, our mental orchard: as souls
running freely, or souls engrossed, to attack elements with vengeance: our arts
with examination, our keen intellects, our glances signifying motion: as
needing existence, if but those smiles, if but our resilience: while freed by
love, or uncaged by emotion, while singing to seas: that fragile sea-monster,
this gila friend, our stems streaming across mountains: this desert-us, this
flaming exchange, our rooted souls….
