Wednesday, August 21, 2019

When Reality is Unfair


We’ve walked this path, we’ve died a little, while it felt terrific: those hawking instincts, those ether antennas, those miraculous lenses: so sweet a snake, so invisible an observer, so intimate two with features: such limbic activity, so curious our ethos, while dying in you blended by immortality: so tugged, if but to persist, while negativity has written our souls: those coarse charges, so inclined to teach, while fretting this shifting space: our wiles and woes, our welkin wretchedness, at weakness and whereabouts: as daughters watch, as daughters patrol sentences, where a man feels wrecked, re-gutted, for unsteady: this life of tensions, those tensions becoming friendly, if but an encounter with humans: our burdock wishes, our prehistoric flowers, those botanical eyes: so shorn in parts, elevated by miseries, so high those clouds: such salutation, such rebuked cadence, to glance over where a kiss has escaped: such livid enchantments, such broken instruments, as a woman slams a guitar: so faint a feeling, so fair a flame, at familiar fires: those banshee thighs, those panting calves, while a man plays for keeps: those sunlit gripes, this interior bantering, so rustic, so young, while life keeps moving: (if but those arms, reaching for indecision, wrestling with features: as accused for treacheries, this life with pains, at something too keen for manipulation: those otiose hostilities, this cultic bond, to remember those classes: such low affection, such high regard, while stippled to believe in you: cut and thrown, reasoned and forgotten, where I saw an amazing spirit: this mystic horizon, those bright brown binoculars, so forced to break free from a ravishing anchor: as born to pass-out, but staying awake, where men need full submission: if but to redeem, if but to start a new life, chasing in order to arise as captives: for Love is mythic, a furious rain, too inclined to die a stranger’s arms): this stretchy agony, those fulgent, but silent screams: as bent this peril, to arise in perils, where lovemaking seems inappropriate: so more this flame, as more this gut, our oneness striking against planetariums.

I felt dissolved, into something but clarity, as an inrush spoke your lightning: our biblic beginnings, our academic frustration, while only a few endorse this path: those electric creeks, this arising montage, or this collage ruse: so legendary you are, so evolved you fly, while a mere soul watches, builds a feeling, and unfastens his pillars: so wild and zenic, such a castled casket, at wicked calmness: this playful self, this hidden triumph, while measuring those features: so abandoned towards you, so needy in you, where delusion felt at home in you: our mental woodblocks, this whittling sensation, to wax so saintly but senseless: such a deep aura, so hard to decipher, for rarely does one see their reflection: so games are plural, a man needs one valley, while trespassing several pastures: our weeping dismissals, our future memoirs, while disappointed in many we believe in: as reluctant creatures, living reluctant lives, as often to feel distressed: those colorful margins, this emotional clash, while trespassing granny’s wisdom.

It started by mystery, it evolved into Haikus, it became an observant furnace: it writes relentlessly, it taps into consciousness, where it concentrates, gnaws, and clutches: fleecy feelings, unfair undergrounds, or fairer biases: at tear with waves, at graves with fear, so dear to our maze: as but a young aspiration, to need reality, to venture insanity: as bouncing extremes, looking into reservoirs, a traipse vatic with signs: our purer dreams, our purer founts, so purposed demanding determination: this roof by ambition, or those first classes, as never thought this journey: at swollen pride, at concert intensities, while buried by something inconsequential: indeed, a radical misnomer, a tragic energy zone, obstructed by major limitations.

All are Braving the Future

    If I may tell it, sore disquieted, greeting memories. Such soul-iniquity, grinding through havens, begging those last three dimensions. ...