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  


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