whether you prefer awareness
– or not –
this extraordinary enthusiasm
is a closeted ecstasy
it exists for me alone
and at what cost, this episode?
with painstaking mechanics I must now distinguish each distracted idea
captured from angular consciousness
and divine it a home; a place!
O, Lord I am so shamefully busy
enchanting, I’m enchanted
a blessed thing, this curse
given how coldly memory essentially murders all thoughts from the deep during my interludes of coping
only to return them to me at breakneck pace, each of paramount weight
arriving on fire
eyes blazing like lamps
magnetically vacuuming up all these rare fruits
precious
rendered while life seemed so interesting
and my solitary-ness less burdensome
following reverie is often hardship
(I’m not sorry)
yet: if mourning seems imminent, thus avoidable, forgive me
my grace has grown thick with effort and feebly gnarled with age
and so it goes –
the clouds never lighter, distant lightning names new invisible fears which every day multiply
these lullabies – sing! – through the years
measured in decades that accumulate and coagulate
a blind yearning for millennia
dreams, self-knowledge, hope
metaphysical trinkets and fascinations
– collected adventures –
these are all I have to offer
coveted by no one, but precious to me
these curious collections breathe life into
inner archetypes, masochists and eternal hypocrisies
life’s dense human chapters bow deep in humble tribute to unconquerable souls
unsure of the path
yet craving resolution