to have lost aesthetic, arts, soul & ghettoes:
colored teleology. most sacred kingdoms, to sin by neglect, omission, disputing
indiscretion. by solemn venges, by inner altruism, by deciding upon a maxim,
some abstruse matter, so deep, so subtle, too much to face a dragon—alike to
souls, gathering figs, swatting wasps, reminiscing, seeing a face, fingernails
deeper into mud, soil, foliage. to need what lives, to die over a dispute, life
is delicate; inking skies, floating banners, facing an existential force. in
needing some unique soul, in desire to have excellence, to see a trait, it
became an aesthetic, arts, a different soul; made into holiness, Love was with
sickness, pain was rushing into atmosphere. another dispute, to understand her
culture, so great its history, made holy, made of power; sudden through
meadows, red birds talking, genets watching, like memories wouldn’t generate
emotion. with looking at it, desiring to sing with it, life has been mourning,
brevity of joys, sullen consciousness—as it feels, it seems natural; raised in
fields, battling mind illusions, understanding maya, fighting with
samsara—to cull out terms; headed to Shiloh, dreaming of Bethlehem, of
instinct, of a greater need … in forgetting a fact, beauty in moments, most are
warring a beast, a reflection, trying to hold it together … with interior
raging, to kiss a seed, to maintain gentility.
