…such
public avenues, or dreams interlocked, our cryptic ambition: those mandolins, this
mandarin, this mandala—to crease slacks, to iron feelings, to feel behaved: our
semi-curse, our quasi-cries, as believing for audits: this classroom, this
professor, or years to something familiar: this portrait of mother, this aunt
we need, this fuel from granny: our daughters, so young with emotion, so old
with behavior: as sliced to ribs, or painting in tattoos, over a grand for lions:
those internal ships, this karaoke mentality, our souls sung before a strange
audience: those demonized dragons, this demonic insight, at tears concerning
Lucifer: a thousand years, and what would come, our minds aching with helium:
this throbbing mind-core, this thriving daughter, to imagine good tidings: at
hearts thrust’d, at lances craving, while beat for bushed: those delectable
pork chops, those lemon pies, or pomegranate cakes: at siblings laughing, for
art is beautiful, while Impressionists push a particular flavor: those nights
to us, this fluttering arc, while a man has issues: our cousins giggling,
feeling our child-embrace, while praying for mental-refuge: if but to live,
running through mayflies, at wings with egrets: so scared and lonely, at mother
at rescues, or stepfather aching that way: this tale at markets, our agora shake-lines,
filled with fluffy excitements: to die furiously, to flavor curiously, at fire-courage
catching flies: this indebted man, this warrior African, while complexion
determines resistance: at fields by snakes, at language built inwardly, while
daughters feel vexed…. …we temper a swan, we feel
extracted, where understanding has its boundaries: that music, Love, your soul,
Love, to write a tender nation, Love: if but to fly, or but to reminisce, as
kissed so early by God: this young hold, this older soul, as inclined to sing
in public: as never that way, or ever this way, so cultured it seems redundant:
those fairer friends, this small qualification, to embrace and live while
something feels incredible: that language, Heart, those dreams, Heart, while
fueled for flamed, fetching a greater portion, Heart: at mathematics, daily in
contemplation, while one feels a smile: this claimant backing salutes, or this
reverend acting correct, at something too cold for summer: those reckless
charms, this reckless landscape, while souls possess reckless habits: at
crevice eyes, pushing passed brains, performing in public squares: as younger beings, debating Communism, while souls
seemed encouraged: our drabber garments, our drabber screams, while aching over
proletariats: this battle for trillions, while never enough, or so enlove those
others are cute: indeed, to channels, floored for wrecked, while debating with
this interior lady: those alarms, Love, to listening, Love, while secure with
northern shores, Love…. I keep close,
this thought in men, while reality has proven cruel: this touch in souls,
worried concerning misogynists, while daughters need a strong structure: those
redder roses, those torn tulips, to rearrange tragedy: at bolder feelings, but
hampered dearly, plus, this chase after gentility: to miss something internal,
this clock-war, at parents sensing disjunction: our cries to Jesus, our
meditations with Buddha, or edgy a Hindu yogi: at times conversing, with this warrior, Krishna, or
debating with Arjuna: those rules, Love, our codes of conduct, Love, while
something seems irrelevant, Love: our blue bushes, our yellow feelings, or
sudden upon an eruption: as first that emotion, sung softly asleep, while
replaying a particular sensation: as men gunning, or embarrassment running,
where something gentle has been desecrated: this fair adventure, this fairer
mountain, at plaques and planks and privileged to perish: our dead livings, our
living deaths, where thought is required to council: those dark knights, those
darker reasons, where souls scramble for cover: such crimson spirits, such
chaotic insanity, where Love is both light unto darkness: and vice versa,
running through caves, and so excitedly: our mothers carrying, our fathers administering,
our souls tugged by appreciation and jealousy: this lot to us, this place in
silence, our furious departures: at travels in Europe, at minds in Greece,
while charged by something so controversial: those red lights, those cultural
feelings, while noticing much.
