by
rich agonies if but to unveil in a land screaming its conviction. by surrender
as flaming blueness such indecent leaves. sweet rumination sweeter empty space
a list of perfections. souls made clever or witty or a furnace refining
essence. sheer confrontation for exclusive reasoning, while we must be correct.
I have
fantasized in a carnival as reminiscent of antiquity in spaces where tears
smile. too much vacancy so little regard in status quo far too extensively. a
man knows he gauges eternal while missing details.
so
self-possessed. no one is watching. everyone is critiquing.
I think
in pastels where others think in jasper as we meet to discredit ambition. a
movie screen, a vehicle some are crumbling from consumption.
tender
aeipathy so wild our woods where many have a monopoly—on words, intelligence,
even destiny … as so manifested or pigeons in cages such higher haystacks. a
woman earns a doctorate, this was the chase, now rules have been revamped. a
man of color is never accepted not even by color. some tale some indifferent
story while a message just slipped passed us.
oh
sweet convergence an atypical experience while we must be altered. a natural
disposition a grandiose cry while some are writing 10,000 words per day; not in
bulk, but repetition, where something becomes fruitage.
I would
sing in praise, to receive vinegar, where I've made you steak.
I was
an adolescent, absorbed by fractures, our algebra seemed different.
what
is the face of Mexican Americans, or Asian Americans, or African Americans? is
evolution plural? are we waiting for our identities? has innuendo overridden
its American Dream?
I
just complain too much. I should accept what’s available. in essence, it’s not
a friendly dream. “But many are there, they overcame, they value America!”
it
was obvious our motivation, as purposed humans, where others pride their
critiques.
I try
not to say everything. it’s a trying adventure, where perception is
intractable; such a world, as meshed in change, while comfortable, or settled
neatly: “We don’t exit margins, we don’t push against bias, we accept contempt.”
maybe an alienated button!
I will
shift now.
such
a privileged beauty such seduction by grace where I may fawn or chance or waltz
to an opera. such a stylish trench coat, or discreet earrings, or a necklace with
a pendant too aloof to praise. cascading essence or wafting scents such vibrant
complexion. to have felt so deeply, a cry in radiance, a soul might die a
smidgen. maybe coquettish or a softer coy as shy enough to prevail. in decent
vein of some cryptic art while most have never met you.
I speak
about fields or loquats or train tracks. I don’t do enough about condition, as
it applies to naturality. we have something in us. sages try to undress it.
while we need our stature revered. but a world is saying silence, a few indulge
us, which acknowledges those passing right by us. our status quo resists
excellence – unless received – while credence is given internally.
I vow
no vows. I chain no freedoms. I appeal to something dying. they say often—we touch
trained souls, while we anger untrained souls. I remember hearing something: “Rules are
made to be broken, They must cater to me, or Everything is just as it was meant
to be.” hearing our signs or contending our indignation, or recalcitrant as it
comes naturally – some might cringe.
a
satchel or briefcase as filled with indifference shows a person is scientific.
we’ve removed centeredness from feelings, as replaced by math, while consumed
by sensitivities. humans become robots, but robots have flesh, where flesh has
emotion.
