Tuesday, September 18, 2012


I am distilled in the night air, removed from that place
Where once the stars were within plucking distance, and
My naked back, delighted in the tickle and familiarity of trust
I must get back to that plateau, where earthly delight was mute
And the cacophony of time evaporated, crippled in its meaning.

Stolen away, that warm whisper of midnight,
When the drumming of all exoteric murmur died down
The brunt of day holds noise, noise too true to insignificance that-
Night be employed to provide the perfect respite for all ache at high noon.
The relentless pursuit of the profligation of individualism, banished

The unhrehearsed composition that floats in weightless freedom
Daunts the mic of materialism, foreshadowing monotony and all things that bore
Unrestrained and wild, concurrent with the pollination of feeling and idea
I find greatest pleasure in pure thought, stripped of influence and flowing
Into, around and throughout, all cells and fiber of being.

There is method to every madness, no matter how silent or small
I am acutely aware; the nutrition of my reality buried no longer,
Unearthed and unruffled, goose down thrown out and away
Falling softly at random, to the tune of delicate sonnets
That amble from lips, long-kissed.

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