A
man will reflect a bit too emphatically and die in fragments.
Those
comforts divorce us our lungs growl into a type of anguish.
It
was something unique or something that fails while we behave this way. Those cave-moments
looking at cave-hearts where remorse seeps into human emotion; to believe for
survival where most distress any crux insomuch as we need something to hold
tightly. (Into you living those wings into sky-shivers as a bold and beautiful
blizzard); but captive here or refrained there where little aglets condition
life.
These
weeks have held me, around this fount of pensiveness, while I cleave to nonexistence;
this terrible space this horrific essence where some are claiming joy.
But
those filters or those fibers where resistance digs so deeply.
I intuit into those
positions so far such mediocrity—to awaken and eat breakfast or to sort of wait
for tugging where idle time is having a fit; our like minds, our approvals,
where nothing is too gray; but some need more, as something carrying cosmic
substance, while vying to participate in this cosmic discussion; where sex and
eating, or merchandise and imports, seem to give little to grip to.
It
may come to wires while Berlin is challenged where one must assert fire.
Those wistful wishes
those whispering winds at gusts to gravel or javelin to sin. As pictures form
nebula or vizards fracture and fail while we sense something has oppressed
sensibilities; those treacherous clamps this clever sphinx as to imagine one’s
life—this ridiculed pun this uncanny plagiarism where pride is death or life is
pride.
It
seems apparent to some, but it may be vague to others, but one must seek
clarity; to measure authority, where we watch fruition, to determine if
authority is living rightly. This treason in time, to ask for certainty,
especially, where a daughter’s development is on trial.
Learn to request credentials,
learn to ask for rubrics, and learn to decipher criteria. This passive
existence is hell, where responsibility is incumbent, thus, we must take
accountability; as opposed to skipping pebbles, while longing for passion, a
bit afraid to advocate for ourselves.
—for
days are before spirit, while souls supersede days, where something inside is
yearning for completion—
