…some
time to reflect, some time to freeze, where persuasion becomes internal: or
shivering elements, our unknown fire, our history stipulating dichotomies: our
darker lights, our brilliant darkness, so close, seated right there, or so far
torn it no longer hurts: those faces, this trace of humility, or this world
battling against meekness: our personalities, haunting our guts, at something
akin to a soul-phone: embraced but aloof, kissed but desert, or loving so
detached from affection: to need volume, to desire vibration, while rabid so
sick for us: thick smaze, ablaze our nights, so early arising for coffee: a
sudden thump, a sudden trance, while feeling dislocated: ether cries, ether
eyes, so alone, so crowded, so familiar: such sweet ceremony, our
spirit-empires, while fluttering fantastical feelings: brought to existence,
our cultic telegraphs, those soul-felt stenographers: our phantasm, those
knitted undergarments, that bright white too big to wear t-shirt: or snug a
pair of sweats, an accentuated waistline, so casual, so alluring, so
underestimated: something sublime, if to allay emotion, while sudden a tear
distracted: unraveled paradoxes, closeness examined, meaning striking our
hourglass: to echo our song, to shelter our disaster, to tug away while pulling
nearness: such contempt, bottled in attraction, late nights studying
personality: our duty, our Buddhism, our Deontology: so thrown to confess, so
ruined for deaths, or so alive a raging memoir: our scattered nerves, our deep
delights, reminiscing upon a dream: but life shifts, where wolves gather, where
souls are hunted: such kneeling patience, such tempest with storm, such cycle,
such camouflage: to drift silently, to entertain this harmonica, to converse
with this saxophone: with deep unction, with raging perfection, with such a tug
into green fire: those howling crickets, this friendly ferret, or this moving
epiphany….
I
read a nightmare, I examined sestinas, it was nerve to wall, longing for
remission: those hazel lime eyes, this excruciating dilemma, our predicament
with wings: to remember, albeit, so naturally, we admired something mystique:
so small a dynasty, so quick to attack, so young with beauty: those hopes so
stealthy, this light so clandestine, while it takes a paragraph to awaken:
those furious legs, this swimming instructor, or so close it hurts to caress: our
separate lives, our screaming parents, while many are curious: such hurt filled
ink, such distressed sky-sphinx(s), at song with pain, at life with deaths:
this irregular pulsation, this irregular address, at eyes sensing such tragedy:
so much contempt, such radiant disgusts, while fire is breeding: our barren
comforts, our hidden cries, as seated so low, while tigers are empathetic: to
have perished, to have incarnated, while alert women are afraid of being
called, Goddess: our claws in sandcastles, our brooks feeling poetic,
our minds suffering from poverty: so depleted, so depraved, or so denigrated:
to live our baptism, to confess our sacraments, while partaking of this
existential Eucharist: at ottoman lows, at tender clouds, or so in-between:
this terrible condition, this raving alienation, while life runs high upon
sufferings.
…so
many complications, as life is skating, even skiing: to have become a cliché,
our richer concerns, our territorial cul-de-sacs, this Utilitarian slant: great
for many, detriments to few, if but to maintain happiness: this elusive
cartoon, as beaks are blown, or measurements are buried: such oxymoron, to love
so dearly, while to hate so emphatically: this ‘love title’, this box of
attributes, while we numerate actual tangibilities: searching for intimate
religiosity, confused by rationality, while reading Spinoza too religiously:
our dreams, Princess, to hold our course, Princess, if but to alarming our
hearts, Princess: our old clocks, this new horizon, or this regular alienation:
so close to remembered, so forgotten it hurts, our loveseats, our souls, our
fires….
