hell of unknown furor, I turn away from life’s existence,
burying self beneath earth’s rhyming death of birth.
Alone, intrepid, suffering for unknown reasons as I wander
aimlessly down tangled pathways of darkened emptiness.
(12/01/11)
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Silencing the effects of human nature, keeping them still and in a pageless book of my mind.
Leaving all to swim around in an uphill stream of vocabulary, awaiting parts in poetry of today.Gems of peace taking their places in screens of my mind.
Boxes of writing are never stored, never filed in
be room for newly created poetry.Clutter would restrict freedom of movement, ideas,images, creativeness, it would hinder the creativeprocess and cause mental or writer’s block.A clean continuous slate and screen invites memoriesto expand into visions of poetry, able to betranslated into rhythmical words and flowing meanings, carrying on the tradition of literacy throughout theworld.
Major interludes of poetry fulfill
energy and vivid imaginational images.All of it taking me out beyond barriersof intellectual talent.
Passing through a recognition of life on an endless journey,
Allotting each individual portion a share in eternal verse,unhesitant in any category, alive with vibrant feelings of musicstirring deep within a mind of wonder.Flying above earth in a vehicle of imagination, seeing more thanany other person on earth has ever seen.Feeling alive, touching, sensing beauty held interiorly, splashingit across subconsciously, tying it to memories hidden…
Smiling interiorly at the times we used to spend together.
Remote though it is, images are still in my dreams and falldown around me in the stillness of my ending.
Soaring talently into skies of abandonment, filing everything within a sheltered description of placid intellectualization.
Placing too much trust in unworthy people as I walk forward, trying hard to misplace all that I can in real time.