I had asked the universe if I had found my new muse
but as I enter further down her clouds parting her lure
from her image as the music of her speech sews into visions
of a light of a life caught in a pause searching for connections
that will help unfold the feelings for the universe
she so earnestly seeks to share with each ripple
on this rain riddled lake we all exist in
for a being who seeks she willingly
she does not arm herself
as it is war
she is really entering
“a war with self”
to thin the needless habits
from the characters within
that make us
whole rather than just
a gathering of holes
stand above the crowd
if one seeks the crown
but she is a “lover”
so no heart for a fight
as a boy it comes to me without real thought
the base roar of the hunt to always seek a better path
thankfully I was never fond of the physical world so …
I built my psyche
I armed my sense of reason and morals forming a sword…
I used my empathy
and humanity to form a shield….
with it all I formed a life with a point
as a life has no point but the one one gives it….
I have taken so now it is eye who must give
she is not ready to be a muse
I can draw all I want from her
but she does not know
what it is she can take from me
so the exchange is not fair
why must it be fair
fore it is a river
if the flow does not match
the current of melt
then all we end up with
is a deep lifeless
ravine
*
- – tea minus six as stems of bob bursting through the surface of the soil appear though only still below the guard of green blades of grass – -
the dry eye of reason
tears through sight’s lies
as before us there
blooms a lady
barely
a woman
she needs
more
then eye can offer
yet what eye
desire
she
has no way
to deny
fore
her history
with all its
wounded flutes
or morning
strings
strummed
by fates
hands
with
eyes
will
be
told to me
in moments
of odd conversations
which is what
eye have
become
a master of
*
I have spoken of eye yet have yet to give her the glass slipper that would make my intentions as clear as sand struck by the inspiration of thunder….crystal would be the view if she took a moment to pause and listen to me…yet I am spoiled by the first muse…..she offered me an even exchange we took nothing and gave nothing but time…..it was a full circle…from sand to crystal to sand again…..yet I must move on with my path…..as one has to wonder if eye can be anything more then the sum of my musings…
I know what would make my voice sing
but I want a different song
I love the sound she brings out of me
but……one must keep wandering
fore in being the dog with freedom
I was to go from place to place
from one view to another
never to stay merely
to witness
yet
as I had feared
she had become
my earth
a soil I could
fall too if not fore
yet I seek to
soar as
a son
of
a sun
so eye must turn
drawing future sparks
into the spheres
but I will find a way to return to her who will claim the title of first
fore she even just the memories of our last if not only time drinking together
eye knew fate had placed me right where this dog with freedom could call
“a home”
*
in being
the essence of self
eyes pressed to soil
as palms feel
the pulse
of
a spiraling earth
mirrors in the fog
as windows appear
off within the specs
flickering across
this uni-verse
as a lily
poses
a slayer of men
she wares a sense of self
openly as a wild forest
raging in waves along
the feet of mountains
a new coat of contentment
with a vintage sense of the seeking sage
she is a puzzle as troubling as an autumn maze
yet the conflict will be in her sense of justice
&
the pursuits her grasps reach for
will eye witness without
a word of warning
or do eye wait
to sea
the oceans
of fate’s
infinite
hands
with
eyes
*
sword sway in the waiting exhale
as the hands tremble with words
who will eye point at with nigh sight
*
my life is one grand social experiment
it is why I work where I work
since it throws pretty random
numbers at me……
and like all good experiments
I do have a control group
which is my family
*
in being the lapse in orbit
running down the width of mi’
a sister the realm of pi
she grinds the sands
into miles of deeps
curves of an
ocean’s
hips
a wisp drifting between
a firefly whispers
of spirit plumes
as the smoking earth
seas & saws
echoes of photons
to soaring suns
speaking
with a
flaring tongue
weaving spells
in hymns
of the rumblings
that shattered
the will of
gravity
“into thirty six paths
with forty two answers
&
grow eleven grasps
with just one question”
*
life or a life
the ohmms
have spoken
yet will
there be
enough
collected
neutrinos
to spark
a new
lapse
in
the densest of gravity’s songs
death or a death
the mantras
have been written
yet would there be
enough thought
to stir the glass
at the reach
of fate’s
hands
with
eyes
*
one is a set that keep adding
the other a set that keeps minussing
would there be a point in crossing
other then one… only
if one believes
in the zero
*
fate smiles as it offers me a drink
all the while knowing I will get drunk
waking hung over with a thirst
fate offers me a drink
eye can not resist
the curves
&
bends
of this river
how it calls to me
glintingly in the distance
torn from the corners
of seduction’s
Corazón
melting any reserve
so too a summer’s snow coloured embers
brushed along by the whims of zephyrs
melts the white cape of a mountain’s resolve
luring eye to a seeping state
as the wine pours into the breath
of the witness to the roar of truth
as the lionweed stands ready
to embrace the flames
of not just
“any ale”
but the dark roots
of mystery’s gaze
™Deyja of the omens™
©K.R.N©
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