finding hope in the shape of a boy,
just to see what a look could deploy.
destroyed the union of snake and of pen.
befuddled by iron, the stake in my friend.
mistaken again, it crumbles. it's waste.
his waist sits up high, like the perfection he faced,
and so a belt he wears will neither loosen nor fall.
it won't be loosened at all. i sat there in awe.
in the shade of the hope that an old oak brings,
i sat watching him pass through sunburn and springs.
some birds would sing, with a pitch he didn't know.
frustrated, he would toss them into his throat.
there's a lesson somewhere. it might be hidden inside,
though i doubt there's more than 3 of us it would ever really find.
the shape of the folly of the malignant-made sun;
that is the outcome. what more can be done?
maybe with a free mind, free choices will be made.
OR
or the intoxications, that exist in the exchanging of breath, will float EFFORTLESSLY into the changeable minds of those inclined to be not them. to be not made....like a mind, a mental state, country, or town. we wear the crown we shape and the gown that's loosely draped, to hide the fat that creation provided in order for us to provide. we hide. we dont sit and wait. we find shade in the hope of the shadows. where there is no hope. where we pretend we met. where you still can't remember how to get out, or to get back. we draw pretty pictures and haiku's on the walls, but, without even the slightest shimmer of light, we are unable to see or to learn from. what would we learn? that life is expected, and that living is not? would we see that the day is nothing compared to the minute? or that the minute is nothing compared to the exhalation of free minds?
i find complexity in the most simple of things. i find life in ugly.
i only know rhyme, from in the center of the nursery.
so, i sit and wait. there's no hope in the shade
that i cast, but i laugh, 'cause i made it that way.
i look back, and i gasp, 'if i had only been brave.'
i see waves, 'cause i stayed on the shore the whole day.