Moving interiorly, in time with an incessant tempo, following rhythm’s direction throughout journeys of life.
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Noting rhythms standing alone, listening to no other drummers.
following circles of enlightenment, tangling with vocals of reticent memories.Songs being written as they are silently composed and played, turning over constantly with overwhelming ferocity.Flowing lightening, striking every moment, bringing reality’s ideas into focus.
Finding memories spinning around, flying off of ceiling fans and onto floors of dirt and dust.
Touching picturesque visions with each moment of factual information.Shoving all movements into a sheltered abode, away from punctual deliveries, absenting itself from existential arguments of foregone conclusions, while parting ways with non-existent truths.
Drumming incessantly into minds of clay, etudes slink about,
Tapping through all sequences of landscape and rhythm, alighting on scenery of beautiful mind-bending poetry.
Solo, charging to music that climbs inside my mind, taking me to outer limits and beyond.
Mocking does no good, for I am in another world, living alone, enjoying peace and quiet.Riding waves of imagination, flowing across the universe, nothing standing in the way of time.Spacing notes together, allowing no time to be wasted as I rock in tune with rhythm from another world outside me.
Patterns of light flow across my sight,
down hallways of enlightenment.Justifying silent reverberations asthey go unnoticed on journeys ofcreativeness.
Standing in the garden of my grave,
Wanting a reprieve from all the sadnessenveloping me in a whiteness of silence.Taking turns with subconsciousness andimagination, sitting on the circumferenceof time, looking in, wondering where Iwill end up and what I’ll be doing in thepurpose of my interior life.Stillness, causing me to look about,watching options flow before me, knowingGod is using my poetry, even…