Candle light flickers
In the reflection of crystalline eyes–
The glow of meditated musing
Breathes pencil wisps of peculiar insight,
Curling upwards and out of existence,
Only to return to the ethereal light
As if to form an endless train of thought.
Conversations replay in each cerebral node,
Firing words into electric nothingness
To awaken a nocturnal consciousness
Where belief unearths the fear
Of failing to find truth in the now,
Of uprooting a soul anomaly
Whose origins are too deep to materialize
And too devout to relate to
The regression of humanity,
Our purchased sense of self,
And the simulation of our insecurities.
Spherical oceans search for the nearest tear ducts
As the blue begins to sketch
Continuums
In each curve
of
an
iris
pulse,
Drawing portraits of the internal
Onto mirrors of human potential.
Illusions begin to dissipate
And the dark divulges the depths of its creation:
Imagination breathes through a body of questions,
Feeling, freeing, remembering
Of love what cannot be understood
Inside illusive formalities –
Parodies of reality
That revel in false sensitivities –
These societal models made visual
To prove to our physical
That love is another market transaction:
A set of benefits
Taken from the pension
Of a slowing heart’s existence;
An incentive for living in the future
When the flaws of the present
Can no longer pretend to sleep
Under feathered retribution
As their pasts keep beating the body into emotion
Instead of releasing it from its own skin–
How fragile all of our hearts have become.
We are taught to survive
In a world of statistics
Where each accomplishment
Fills our measuring cup of self-worth
With accolades of constructed perfection.
We accept ourselves
We accept ourselves
According to audience applause
And the ways in which we can be loved
Instead of our infinite capacities
Through which we are able to love.
We forget we are more than just skeletons
In soft-shell cover-ups,
More than blood and genetics
And sensory extremities,
More than the emotions
We ascribe to each organ
And our nervous system of excuses.
We are more than texts
And the histories that define us;
More than the products of academia
And the figures that pay our mortgages.
We are more than just an assembly line future –
More than what we give ourselves credit for.
We are more than what we perceive;
We are without of what we perceive,
We are without of what we perceive,
Yet we fear that what we are not
Will change who we have yet to become.
Descending a mythological metaphor
Where two hearts marry in a cherrywood casket,
The foundations of a better life
Are paved along the walls of graveyard hollows;
6 foot intrusions into nature’s rebirth
Where dirt beds and scripted eulogies
Preserve the fear in tradition.
While a deeper reality exists above
The burial grounds of today’s consensus,
We keep digging for salvation
Instead of breathing it in,
Convinced that destiny lies beneath us
And not within each of us –
How lost all of our hearts have become.
As we place our trust in wealthy hands,
Our love in selective memory,
Our health in tomorrow's technology,
And our futures in timetable deadlines,
We struggle to question
Whether we are living to be
Or living to do.
Each of us holds the answer to truth
But we cannot unlock it
When apathy and ignorance
Make for comfortable bedfellows;
Reach into the heart that was once unbroken,
And revive the love that gives light to the soul –
Awaken the unconscious from this century’s sleep
And begin to see
That life is more than mere existence.
