Can you explain? Washed away in a legacy, never cleansed in lakes. Baptized or Bastardized? Never no mind. Either, I was sent on my way
Can the bear minimum be cultivated into infinity? Or can something I don’t remember really take a part of me? And if this really is just a game, can they take that, and make that for keeps?
Mellow yellow, by way of green. Moods can be tranquilized or glossed over but they will not be released, if history tells the story. This is my call to the orator: please, stop using these words that you’ve already heard. The only true relief comes from simply witnessing the scenery.
The surroundings bound or liberate. The memories murder and resuscitate. And the kill buries slash levitates. Pick a side. Often now, those who laugh, do so in vain. And the ones that try will have many poems with many lines, pushing worth by trying to quantitate
I breathe in darkness. That has not changed. Light up in sparks and think that that, is the only shame – that I can cannot lay in that instant and no longer recollect the minutes that proceeded it
…And that assumption keeps being made. My downfall lights up the trail for every one of my days. The choice. Have to substitute the one being made with its counterpart. With it, this thing we call the world can stop resembling an avalanche and be the portrait of the fall. It can begin, return, remember its place as workable cinematography. Its place, as art
I begin, to return, and remember,
0 responses to “Everything but, Anything shown”
Much of these musings hold promise, third paragraph in particular. “History is always written from the victor’s perspective,” comes to mind. I like “This is my call to the orator…..etc.” I personally like poems/writing that tells me something new. A poem should be a new subject. Remember Wallace Stevens, “Realism is a corruption of reality.” “Life is a composite of the propositions about it.” And, “Poetry is a search for the inexplicable.” Keep exploring. Will