Friday, November 25, 2022

Mantis Diary

 

The sun is out, those centipedes are moving, I reminisce on Kansas. A different excellence, maybe show me glory, so alphabetized. A sickle to soil, a feeling taken to heart, and medieval silhouettes—to come to depth, to plumb the earth, feeling in parts, a curse.     Born into sludge, rinsing daily, asking pertinent questions—of deacons, priests, the bishops, feeling homesick, if to skate heaven, a spirit lost to eternity; a long while, sundown prayers, akin to the nightmare mantis; such a sunburst, on a Wednesday morning, alike to a feeling in rain—the pouring down, upon flesh and soul, a cool evening, a sin to recollect.     Back at it, a mini-crucible, reminiscing on the inner dimensions, a city filled with miseries, a culture born to struggle.     Many say things, I’ve analyzed it, no one escapes the interior debates … drinking sugarberries, eating sugar-apples, and life was never so sweet.     Blessed enough to see triumph, some great adventures, it isn’t all disgraces; the turn of souls, the spirit grinning, a fret to love justice.    

PS.

    The strength to withstand the winds; a spell as it effects/affects some creature. A sudden moment filled with absolute certainty, so wro...