…overseeing violence,
so mentally conditioned, such push, such pain, such realized love: shorn by
panic, those carefree eyes, to adore in spite of complexion: this war, this
drug, those intoxicating liaisons: our lives with whites, our worlds with
blacks, our hybrid daughters: this raging hunger, this remarkable friend, or so
cursed it felt goodness to die: at seconds feeling coldness, so warm our escapades,
so frozen our malice: attempting at life, such pash and love and infatuation:
so bent for Love, so slanted for Love, while needing to curl up and disappear: such
riches bleeding, such contempt reaping, at something so explosive: this steak
with onions, this plight over dishes, or early morning Cream of Wheat: our
cinnamon toasts, our languid responses, while a man was recently hung: such
deep chaos, such wretched realities, where hatred assumes its victim: but yours
is unadulterated, and yours is intellectual lasciviousness, or something raging
over peace: such feelings, this vast oasis, this redemptive desert: our depth
in cheetahs, our science at love, while something critical is missing: those
longings, this escape, or precious conversation: our relaxed bodies, our needs
to receive, our trenchant curse to give: this variable island, this sneezing
frenzy, while a slight remark might reveal a stranger: those watchful towers,
those alien souls, so at thoughts to love and cherish such deep negativity: our
trips to Mississippi, our souls rummaging Atlanta, our remodeled understanding
of both passivity and complaisance: our Northern rays, this respect for
encyclopedias, where too much is barely satisfying: so chased, Love, so
unprotected, while vying with pure instincts: so separated from animals, so
Aristotle, at wars to decipher Picasso: such incredible passion, such
incredible vision, while true love builds castles: this land of vandals, this
compassionate nun, if but able to reach those magnets: but yours is art, such
radiant music, such creative epiphanies: so darn mystic, so charged, so lost
but found in a sudden instance: at something gentle, at something peaceful,
with rights to creating this world: running through Berkley, or dancing at
Harvard, or churning agreements at Pepperdine—this racing cadence, this
airborne frustration, our guts, our wars, our skeptical realities: to wean off
ignorance, to seek when it hurts, to battle for clarity—this army of shadows,
this resentful umbra, while life presents several dragons….
…such wrestling fire,
such double printed malaise, while a second presents hope: those clocks
laughing, this sky as semi-peaceful, or such exospheric rages: those colorful
ambitions, this quasi-ambivalence, while mirrors suggest something reaching:
our longer gazes, our cubic advice, or those rubric concerns: searching for
pavements, in this abstract universe, so decided to avoid parental errors: our
repeated madness, our curious vines, while roping clouds: this interior
surfing, those ocean prose, so ethical but unsatisfied: if but that one person,
if but this peculiar dream, while true forgiveness begins mentally: our hearts
aloft with peace, our souls silenced for moments, at something studying Archery: such simplistic dynasties, such
outstanding literature, so hut-like, such a sandcastle, so breezy and
resilient: so yours is flying, and yours paraglide(s), plus, you possess
something amazing: this vague reference, this need to reexamine, this mistake
as something critical: those cruxes, those axes, this pivot catapulting our
senses: those morning flowers, this swept closet, or this tiny in-home insect:
while destroying parts, or recovering parts, to realize a number of parts: this
piecemeal person, this whole enchilada, or so colored by something appearing
outrageous: this deep ugliness, those trenchant curses, while so concerned
about our introductions: at itchy chalkboards, or captive professors, adjusted
by internal regimes….
…so vain to witness,
if but to see, while two people would despise breaths: our languishing, but
frightened, unredeemed arks: our floating captivity, those escaping doves,
while one hates with venom: so adjusted to jumping cultures, if but someone to
adore, if but someone to accept their plight: it becomes difficult to adjudge,
but here’s a ruler, if everyone didn’t work out, the problem lies in our
mirror: but facts are abhorred, plus, wrongness is relative, or up for debates,
where this is quite misleading: for pain is quite tangible, it resides in
physicality, it breaks out in rashes, it slumps our bodies: those difficult
eyes, this judging mechanism, or those hunger-pangs unaddressed: at something
deeper, this un-acceptance, or this closet affection: so cured by reality, so
devastated by actions, where life appears askew: but yours can be remarkable,
and yours counts leaves, and yours feeds its spirit…! (Live!)
