I’m sinking
or drowning
I’ll let you tell-
the differences,
I’m thinking
or dreaming
I can’t tell-
the difference,
am I falling
or flying
is there any-
difference,
I’m either up
or down
I don’t know-
anything different,
I feel so-
different,
though things change
that,
never will
Picture Perfect
Picturing Pictures within a Picture-
though the Big Picture, never alludes me,
smaller Parts working in tandem for something bigger
blending instead of blaring
balance
a heightened idea of the whole,
or the collective sacrificed for
Piecing Peaceful images Posed inside Paradigms of Perimeters-
seeing you, eases all I go through inside,
Prosperity…
Picturing Peace…
Pictured Pieces of-
Punishment and Pain,
Power and Potentiality,
Promises and Possibilities,
Patience and Perseverance,
Process and Progress,
Paradoxes and Paragons,
Pythagorean Perceptions and Poignant Postures
Poetic Perspectives and Philosophical Prose-
I see you in every aspect of life,
Perfection and Purpose-
Perusing with Precision Paralleling your Path
you are a sight to be seen
you are,
Picture Perfect!
Gripping the Lines
there’s a line
everywhere there are lines
lines that form
lines that border
and lines you don’t cross!
I’m gripping tight to this phone
where I’ve let a few slip from the corner of my seers
but I can’t be seen
and I can’t stop the leak
and I’m trying!
I’m trying so hard for this damn emotional dam NOT to break
because that is a line
a line that you don’t cross!
a line…that I can’t
I just can’t cross
because weakness preludes mealtime in the jungle
I can’t expose where, and that,
I may be weak…
or weakened
throughout any week
or day!
not even Sunday!
but the levy is wavering
my eyes are wading
and my heart couldn’t be any worse for wear
because I had nothing to lose once upon a time
then things, unforeseen, became good and well
but when the wellness is lost
then the well spills forth
and no tossed coins can change what is
so although this phone disconnected 5minutes ago
I’ve been here
clinging tight
pantomiming a conversation
while I sneakily wipe at my eyes
feigning laughter and a jovial disposition
hoping no predators or none the wiser
because if they see that line being crossed
there will be even more lines to be crossed
all to arrive back behind the same drawn lines,
which keep me safe
while hiding my pain
because at this phone station
I’m in camouflage
seen but unseen
and low enough as to not be heard
unless of course, the phone time expires
but who can tell, when I laugh so audaciously
through this misery,
this pit and pool of shame
but I must remain masked
because warriors don’t cry
and this phone…
well its my shield
and so I cling tight to it
because it could mean my life
and this gtl moment, was and has always been,
more than just a phone call
it was freedom
it was an embrace
it was peace
and it is my shield
therefore, I grip onto the lines
because this is one line that can never be crossed
My Chaos
insanities
vanities
calamities
is there,
amnesty from humanity?
humanity is what damaged me
…but I’m managing
Travesty/ Tragedy
travesty
tragedy
tracking me
trapping me
cornered into savagery
tortured by my casualties
forces formed in back of me
fortress from the past of “me”
focus forked, imagining
photos frame a masterpiece
of fear, fangs, and fragility
travesty
travesty
travesty
trapped into my tapestry
where fore art thou, O tragedy
fated, you’d be latched to me
after all, I compliment your majesty
was foreign to your faculties-
coursing through me, it was maddening
but now I see you’re matching me
flattery, sweet flattery!
captured by your mastery
travesty, O’ tragedy!
I can hear you clattering!
Bird Drawn
your words paint my disposition
my intuition is spirit driven
you give my spirit vision
you transcend all my fences
you blend then bend division
and reap endless fruition
your grace makes amends with tension
I seek your light and permission
I see a life forgiven
I read the signs you give me
and even scribe you with them
you help contrive a rhythm
I once disguised with venom
so I could hide from critics…
um, I think life’s a riddle
soooo sight is fickle
and time will trickle
like sun shinning on some hanging ice that sickled
understanding oneness, duality, and the trinity while still trying to arrive at middle
my mind writes you scribbled
you keep my mind in ribbons
you peak my mind’s eye attention
so I can fly suspended
to higher heights of livin’
and untimed dimensions
I once one sidedly sighed, was fiction
from one mind and one side of vision
beyond the mind bind of needing a Christ that risen inside religion
I’m freer with a piece of mind that lives and dies in the minutes
hopefully fated ties, place me at your side, forming the very light we were assigned since the beginning
with the skies as our witness
as we fly, drawn before time, disguised within limits