Supple
soft doctrine, our eyes moonblood, our guts crystals and screams—those roving
tendencies at something so unsure to imagine we have deceived mirrors; but
lotus eyes confused with realities or abused by something so close to life; such
wheezing lungs or such heaving cries at edges leaping into invisibility; a soul
at gates holding to mother’s bosom unkempt running jagged aloft a space-glance;
if but to believe as does an infant to scream and expect comfort; those
tyrannical terrors so trained to escape while sorrow-residue coddles interior. I
have been deep in thought abandoned to regions while sensing I couldn’t if life
would; our damaged expectations our cruel excited world where something sacred
becomes a cup of coffee; our desperate masses or so few in this bane while so
many are hitchhiking for pleasures; but a man can’t complain and he can’t run
ramped while most are a beat from gunning into oblivion; such wireless motion
such ringing phones while spirit-telegrams are inrushing planets; but energy
and pain but typhoons and waves as something so close to becoming pure mystery.
I have an issue with love this fair exhilaration but it seems purely dependent;
upon arts and crafts upon entertainment and chalice or somewhere a person can
love one and adore another; but not that routine and not that channel where I see
love as something encompassed by incredibility; this logos at heart to
core or this ethos developed in months at pathos and so enlove
rain appears as sunshine. I’ve been thinking about existence this metaphysical
critical creature while analyses have become estranged; this alien man those
strange trees with bark and remedies or trunk petals and sap; such saffron
tulips upon a wish and floating while watching how either grow into or grow
away from; this musical as we tiptoe symbols those cymbals as death was un-sweet
or captive feelings lingering as ghosts; to adore certain qualities to want
with enterprise or to become something mostly flying—as removed creatures
singing something softly while desiring to feel safe and vulnerable; this thing
we stumble into this need for that feeling where most are so strong and so
secure we feel like upchucking the ghost. I was alone those days so sick to his
belly where essence was reigning as beautiful. I was gone those days looking
and wanting while ill-gathered. This film in me this movie upon repeat at
something deceiving as it inputs data; those hours watching and looking and
detached from his emotions—those gray antennas this gray recorder while silence
means deeper trespass.
It
lends itself to chaos it dies and resurrects with a moment of reprieve. Those combat
zones these feudal feelings while a man looks by future into a similar
situation; so alone at seconds to redeem and feel so strong at seconds while
deep indifference is protecting something fragile; this dungeon war these
pavement smiles at something searching and becoming too vulnerable; our lives
so disparate our spirits so congruent while a man has lost something too dear
to repeat; longing in this wilderness so unknitted by this forest where so much
has become distasteful: a man reassessing his mind so rich with judgements
where it is easier to become suitable. Those winds are soaring these mountains
are arranged and lightning sung so close to arcs; as battling souls so
deliberately couth at time and melodies or passions and cries; to need
something in-particular to ache and not search while a man feels confused
concerning privileges; as not in that vein and not of those clouds but I wander
and wonder those lakes those colors; at music unsung at Tao or Zen where
reasoning is used to deal with mind resistance.
