…born incorrectly,
our standards outreaching our worth, our logic dependent upon emotion: wires
unlatched, fences leaning, plus, these forces those ghetto planks: our children
deciphering, measuring our sentience, or recalculating our praises: these inlet
roses, those membrane petals, plus, those influential adults: so careful to
retreat, so cautious with language, so conditioned by behavior: as primary
example, a grunt at a statement, as such disappears: this game of Life, these
small pieces, while put together depict psychological profiles: this change in
humans, this web in society, while we rarely dismiss an affront: this shock we
feel, this pullback expression, where behavior has been chastised: a little
here, a little there, and afore science our consciousness has heightened: such
deeper thoughts, on celestial days, where Love has caressed our souls: such
halted anxiety, such penchant realism, or resigned to pensive thoughts….
…it seems important,
this repeat in history, where those persons pass but their behavior is us: mother so understanding, but chaos
remains present, even indicative of several failed courtships: but enough of
that, in this quantum search, while good behavior makes us feel existence: to glance at innocence, prior to assuming us, makes a person lean forward and
offer a palm: indescribable eyes, such receptive volume, while prone to looking
for mother: such intake receptors, becoming with time, presuming our world as
delightful: our pained hearts, so inclined to listen, but Little Charlene has
made a miscalculation: even in lighter circles, this pestilent deception, where
our bodies become objectives: so protected, but not enough, where we arise in
sweat-pockets: such kinship responsibility, avoiding several steps, while
certain behavior slipped by our radar: so engraved, so delicate, and prone to
becoming us….
I sip coffee these
days, while flushing my system, attuned to such consciousness: such pleasure
for some, this day of appreciation, where I pace a little and think a little
and reappear before my actions: this intellectual tribunal, while analyzing my
parts, a bit fretful of purely innocent sufferings: I must desist, at least in
practice, a bit too insistent with decoding motives: but time is harsh, plus,
gentle, where certain realities, with practice, pop into clear view: a woman
wanted a child, this need for unconditional, dependent love, where those
sophisticated rules were far too complicating: it becomes delicate, plus,
unspeakable, while we’re often disappointed with those results: our sons
trained, our daughters with sentimentality, or a mother’s need for correct
courtship: one mother smiling, another mother yelling, while we sit at this
table: as time flies, a child is born, where objections should evaporate: but
enough of that, racing Little Jimmy, upon dirty tennis shoes, while he grips
invisibility!
…it
seems unfair, where a child is adored, while mother is disbelieved: a father
ponders those things, while asking questions, while realizing Little Charlene
exhibits signs: but life is delicate, where anger and defensiveness erupt,
while many take to it as innocence: but enough of that, this day of
appreciation, while some have merely donated a seed: our gardens so empty, this
child watering, while years denote this watering by imagination: so unaware, so
loyal, so dedicated, while mother is watching: picking our New Year, while
tiptoeing something crucial, at deep concerns: this thing with mental chasms,
this bubbling awareness, while to suppress it seems detrimental: our need for
our people, those trained as we are, those fighting similar forces: for life
offers crafts, plus, ceramics, but we must build accordingly: the earlier a few
rules, in this haphazard world, the sooner we can suggest our fates: for good
behavior is striking, it rewards and chastises, but it frees us from too much heart-confetti: this
music so sweet, our history so repeated, our souls struggling for over seventy
years, if luck is gentle…!
