waiting for me to express it is a poem of
gentle blossoming in desert landscapes.
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Film falling down over my ears, filtering out unwanted conversations around me.
Reverberating throughout my intellect, giving me pleasure beyond what life can even give me.Solace and serenity fill me with a calmness I can’t achieve any other way.Silently beckoning to inner talents, falling into backdrops of peace.Taking years into moments as I fill many pages with posterity’s legacy.A sense of purpose filling me within.
Remembering titles from yesterday, knowing where I heard each song first.
Yet, always doing what was right, never veering from the straight and narrow pathway that I was taught to follow from birth.Parents being treated with respect and trying my best to not make them worry about me through the years of their life as they waited for me to grow up.
Life is at a standstill, deficient, unable to handle daily routines with any energy whatsoever.
Unaccosted, afraid, yet looking for solitary openings to become myself without horrendous pain.Sanctioning undeveloped patterns, watching them wander aimlessly until I pick them up, placing their forms within imagination’s storehouse to be used on some other plain of literature.
Steadfast in passing of time,
Retroactively grabbing hold of itas it slips from our grasp.Knowingly hiding in spaces,not facing the truth of life as itfades from sight.
Quickening the pace, rhythm strikes and takes me into pleasurable realms of exhiliration, combing through imagination.
Taking liberties with my existent intellect, savoring it’s wisdomas I write and recollect distinctly, attitudes of rectified life living within my subconsciousness.Touching softly, a gentleness set in memory’s times, imagescavorting and twirling with anticipation as I walk into avenuesof photographic scenes, helping to relive dreams of long agothrough writing of poetry.