…so
incredible angst, alive somewhere utopic, as feelings are similar: such fighting
battles, or flights into cities, rebuilt where something is hidden: siphoned
and sifted, such radiant silence, where a monster lives, therein: subdued with
ingredients, masked by medication, or appeased through dialogue: our granny’s
lineage, our granny’s illnesses, or granny’s wits, determination, and failures:
our remarkable minds, this slither right there, this slice, hitherto: our
children concerned, to have heard while listening, where your story is ever
this horrible exchange: as never represented, as ever with edge, where tellers
confess he was damn near a maniac: something simple: a raised voice, a flipped
futon, or dishes and food out of place: but hell be good, he was clear for
killings, while secrets fester and demons take refuge: nonetheless, we return
to life, we excite our brains, we dip in and out of silence: our masks
shedding, our inhibitions with rules, while demonstrated as something
functioning: this foul title, this slight disregard, those gavels those screams
those doctors: to drift through passion, to invert something simple, or to
rearrange perception: at fairer fights, or unfair condemnation, where we
suggest our issues are our doings: to forgive self, while demonizing
infraction, while felt for feeling some type of sorrow’s peace: that dead
mirror, those dead leaves, this cordial disposition: our inner judgments, to
asses instantly, where something natural makes its response: if but to live, as
written about sages, this impossible, terrifying, incredible work: to sing
softly, or live by authority, while needing some type of community: to ask a
zillion questions, to nurture egos, while needing love to take its lead: so
sober, so intoxicated, so mixed: as overexposed, attempting simplicity, while
normality is resisted: this bane institute, this type of decay, where balance
seems important: our milk with sugar, our coffee with cream, or crème to soul a
bit excited: while pulling backwards, afforded three smiles, needing something
which ravishes….
…it
becomes apology, or unapologetic engrams, while others behave according to
whims: sometime so lovingly, an instant later, quite tyrannical: or sometime
peaceful, a second later, raging with waters: that salty residue, this deep
ride, as tugged to and fro—but adored for cherished, and loved for moments,
where good times carry us through: this man insisting, this daughter resisting,
this family accustomed to beliefs: as never a chance, but thoughts are normal,
where pain is prevalent: our crazed position, attempting something normal,
while to ignore it is for it to seep into heart-flowers: as yelling this thing,
where one is confused, while reality has distorted its image: this deep
manifestation, while we attempt to fathom, where Love meant something
different: such misplaced persons, such radical deepness, to realize that
thirty years of dysfunction builds its reservoir: so close to this pit, so afar
from this daughter, so near to seeing clearly: this trenchant battle, this
trenchant force, while delicate and hurting with fire: our parts, our legacies,
our rules, our regrets….
…we
ingest parents, at radical instruction, where many are quite normal: at least
with us, or peeking around corners, while undelivered and needing a night out:
that fashion group, those communal mystics, so close, so in-charge, so
devastated: those critical thinkers, this rule for communication, where
everything is meant for understanding: but never dismissed, and rules are
important, where certain behaviors must be chastised: void on Capital
Punishment, alive on subtraction, and forward on stating reasons behind
behaviors: our drifting souls, our dreary eyes, where reality seems so close:
those appearances, our college trainings, where resistance seems inappropriate:
such deep perception, such endless doubting, such fueled dialogue….
