We've suffered in the burning frost o' the Holy peak
to unlock the locked secrets, and to taste the sweet
sorrow. In my upward fall, I told the perfect evilness,
'I want nothing more and never again. ' You could hold the
word in that eloquent quietness. I could hang the quietness
in the breath. You found its own sense and its oxymoron.
The word and the quietness were swords in-between the holes
and the stars. In that mental freezer burning, I've reprieved
my insomniac dreams o' my destiny & the leavin' dreams
o' my un-destiny. You made them be numbed feelings
and vice versa, much more than the jazz songs could be
music sounds to be blue songs again. In that fairy
tale, my silent scream was changed into its echo
to end as deafening silence forever. Fairly obvious,
the down climbing evilness echo'd, 'I want nothing
more and never again, nothing more and ne'er again. '
Cryptic Kiss
'I' is 'Me'
'We' comes out of the 'I'.
I don't know myself nearly
as well as I think I do, but you know
me better than anyone else.
I'm more than this
kinesthetic intelligence of us
trapp'd in this great chain of bein' that belongs to all of us,
when it gets stuck bouncin' around between
this logic and this consciousness, which is
so limited than, when too much
is ask'd of it, it starts dropping things.
I'm more real than you,
'cause you're still asleep
in this world of wakin' reality.
I feel your cryptic kiss as
a metaphysical manifestation o' your wish fulfillment,
or love. Maybe 'tis
a simple magnetic passion, or
only a slip o' your tongue.
I don't know, but I know
that, in dreams, you kiss me. Then,
you really kiss me.
I feel your emotional need for
a happy life with a great sense o' peace.
Your emotion has a feminine voice.
You are the one.
One, sometimes, means wholeness.
'I' is 'Me'
'We' comes out of the 'I'.
Separation
There was no more scream to heat the air,
had to be slipped through the door of nevermore
nor through the time of life. Scary
like an insane clown in the crowd, the moon
turned into a terrifying face. Some more longtime pain
could change into an overgrown claw to crush
the house of love.
A lot of words were full of unfulfilled longing. Bursts
were the truths thundering through
the thinking mind; not thinking, but stressed.
There was no second chance, much less there was a hope.
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