violent
sounds by jubilant pain or Rumi’s piano.
so
much mystic desert searching by oases so rummaged or unfree. it wasn’t freedom
as coming to love while reality was pure illusion: coffee stains, tea rings, while
wrung by uncertainty.
it
was easy to ignore you until it was rain to notice you in so much to live our
obituary: a mother by psoriasis or a cold breeze for a father where a son analyzed
by imbalance. so much disobedience as crime seems existence where color seems
penalty: a person unclear a woman devastated at diaries screaming out softly.
daughters
are wrestling dearly. those subtle signs in discussion. or pure misogyny.
so
harsh a word even an epithet while a white woman hates a colored man. it seems
so natural, but it defies logic, for said white woman has a black child.
how
to dissolve something insoluble?
by
dangerous undercurrent but never a volt just dislike upon visual contact. but a
meaning in suffering. or torture to cross paths. while so tender so deadly such
affection!
flowers
seem abandoned or solitary or gregarious. we can’t determine, while soil fraternizes,
insomuch as to meet a divine mist. such observation. so distressed by facts. or
sorely at an impasse. where it behooves us, if but to walk away, with
arrangements to meet at high noon. so cursed in blessings, where it was life in
suffering, insomuch as pain was existential—those fragments as they become puzzles
to gaze at a child with pure hope.
oh dear beloved.
if to give a caveat, it would be to retain something innocent. (too many
riddles in us, such surreal galaxies, while humans are Delphic.) it was hating,
then pain, then acceptance; so long into courage, while denial was winning,
where a man relies on one more chance. such cries or behavior while a person
seemed angelic: such saintly projection, such fragile ambition, while pure
rejection must sprout understanding: those sage lakes, those passionate
woodblocks, or by immortal destiny.
such
spirit exhaustion by falling clouds while we held up a banner. it wouldn’t be
gamboling nor jubilee nor paintings of bright or majestic faces. it would
become horror by haunted gut where many merely change hats; but some are
intimate, so relaxed in hell, with a furious goal; if but to unveil sorrow or
to love by fervor where most zeal is impermanent. (some sharp magnet instills a
man. he refocuses by debating probability. while resilient he becomes open but resistant.)
