a thought

[DISCOURSE]
Timid footsteps of morality
marvelling the (im)possibility
and those who disobey the conscious,
unconscious, and responsibility.
How can we all exist?
The warnings of souls are not shadows.
Spirituality is work, unlike a word;
an infinite wonder.
To speak is to belittle, though
sometimes necessary.
"Baby, I just want you to be happy."
[...duh.]
The sharpness of reality
and the soft
expanse
of the soul
is a precarious combination
that ensures being pricked.
Invisible facts;
forceful moments;
thick, mushy, used
oxygen
surrounds and suffocates
tireless fate
like faith.

?

Toppling hills keeping safety alive
Barely. Quivering quackers jumble embrace
With use to be. What "happiness" claims
Captures growth and ruts and grapes. For one
To escape, drape the hour. The name belongs
To no one the woman ever breathed. A shameful
Encore bellows apprehensive advice to warm Southern
Cheeks glowing crowdedly in single-file sidewalk lines
Cheering for more. Independence is not important
To freedom, idealism explains, but everybody else
Knows the distance. RoseBud - the prettiest smile
You've ever seen. Compromised fame shutters
In the distance and grows in the spring, providing
Gibberish to foxes and squirrels in the late fall.
Your dreams are worth cheating for - atop the
Dragging waltz you tip-toe, releasing imagination
To freedom and imperfection.

Love Song

Purring the world to sleep
  My bottled spine
We won't awaken solely
  This humble time
Humbled lobotomies
  Sparkled with love,
Care and shine
  Matchstick grass stalks
Ablaze and fraying
  Through wind and dream
You will stay
  Won't you? Diamonds
Don't ever melt
  It seems. Oh, but
If you could:
  Evaporated, divided
And shared!
  Water and wine
Reddened
  And sweet every time.
The scent of invigoration
  Leaves nature
For proper posture
  And the parodies
Of freedom!

The Mystery of Attraction

                                        The mystery of attraction

You're not looking literally

          reading a poem

                    inside of me

I can imagine old words

          judiciously

                    and you will think

Mystery

          and attraction

                    considering their connection

There may be no

          commonalities, circularities

                    or physical tendencies

The mystery-the river

          of this, row- attraction

                    read now your reaction

Convince yourself the water

          cautiously

                    you see the means

Hopeful reader, light with buoyancy

          it doesn't mean

                    stalk tall
Green, wishful simplicity
          prosaic origami
                    or even anything

Essence

There is no creed to being kind
it is the doctrine of the heart
and weakness of the mind


Disciplined introversion
improves extroversion
by natural design


The essence of an existent
if possible - requires both parts
to be equally refined


With completion upon death
or
the soul unshrined


Philosophy is of the mind
and religion of the heart
action and being, being ever entwined

picking, me

Picking words     reflecting your reality
  that just means perception    actually
Like plumes    clarity    and actuality
  landscape    estuary    and misconception
You can never have my reality
  or drink the reflections
Of my streaming rivers
                        inside
      Water   -   wild        with curiosity
  tempts
            And welcomes me

prunes

Letting the bathwater get cold
is not difficult to do, with complacency,
stillness and being preoccupied
The tiles stale, but the water never ripples
With impossible, inevitable slowness
the smallest particles ever seen or felt
lose interest
and are no longer entertained
They go dormant, or die-
it doesn't matter which-
and together grow cold
It can happen any time
I miss the prunes
that now diminish every time
Like memories
that still exist somewhere
or perhaps: reminders
They are sometimes just the same
sometimes bigger and deeper
that they are shades
waves of reality
And then I'm reminded:
I still have the same old towels.
Can that be true?

Clarity

The epiphany of seeing yourself
    as you are
Moments of clarity
The options of life before you
    for the first time
Synchronized vibratings to ghost pulses
Blueish waves of uncertainty
The world seems thinning when you realize reality
    but you dig in anyway
Tinglings at the top of the spine
    Don't be so affected
17 months pregnant with misconception
    it seems
The next realization will lead to a realization
    of one's own naifness
Unexpected explanations of feelings
Is there more to it than this?