I do not write poetry as a practice. It is something I do to reap Insight, or document it in times of peace. In accordance to this pushing myself to work through the little inspiration I had for this one, I've not given it much second thought or anything to do with pure , humble explorations and reflection.
This was a quick one, but perhaps in the future I would look back it it and feel there was a lesson, wisdom I had gained throughout my time in processing and reflecting
Here goes
It is easy to remember,
just as the minds shardes envelope struck suckles of every ember,
And oh, the disilusioned send off,
The constant disentangled locket mind
My constant wrath it wished to surrender,
To images of ease,
Not to confront
the true man kind
I saw a family like me from a far place
They dressed the same, brother sister of another race
In my amazement I sent off the forever truth,
That what is known of man is not the same as what I love
That what is known of man is but irreverent masks
Not in their great effort, but my preformence past
I let myself be storied into the admiration
Of all that fevers loss the virus of translation
The sister turned to him to let off little steam
They joked a few strange terms, the common ones to fiends,
of what is bad and
what is vulger and what is brief
I do not hate them simply
I do not hate the world
In quivering and boiling heat
I did not preach the cold
In little stories lost and minds entranced now list in thought
I did not, Idid not,
I did not hate each verry thought
But when my sight came to the everlasting rot,
The two of subtle disdain they offered me a spot
In there very ritual, a soft soda they bought
I did say no, but not of critical intentions
I did not hate them simply , going without mention
All that occured diseased my mind to forsee precise tension
Of lifetimes in that little seat of surgical preventions
From the pain of my auntie weak I was just yet a sponsor
Sister went in with none to eat and auntie came out smiling
We left the room,
my mind of doom,
And still in recollection
I did not hate them simply
It was a few, an awfully few
But raging, resisting need for love of deep perfection
None that exist in little life the before that I mention
I was in need of much to feed off what I cannot mention
The delacasy, finger treats of purity, yet I found imposition
I was in need, of nothing more I filled myself with apprehension
I hope the writing of the poem did indeed offer insight as you re-read it. I find it to be deeply interesting and wonder, just out of curiosity, what two lines do you feel are the core of this piece?
I was in need
of much to feed
Off what I cannot mention
The delacasy, finger treats, of purity
I found imposition
I was in need, of nothing more I filled myself with apprehension
I do not write poetry as a practice. It is something I do to reap Insight, or document it in times of peace. In accordance to this pushing myself to work through the little inspiration I had for this one, I've not given it much second thought or anything to do with pure , humble explorations and reflection.
This was a quick one, but perhaps in the future I would look back it it and feel there was a lesson, wisdom I had gained throughout my time in processing and reflecting
Here goes
It is easy to remember,
just as the minds shardes envelope struck suckles of every ember,
And oh, the disilusioned send off,
The constant disentangled locket mind
My constant wrath it wished to surrender,
To images of ease,
Not to confront
the true man kind
I saw a family like me from a far place
They dressed the same, brother sister of another race
In my amazement I sent off the forever truth,
That what is known of man is not the same as what I love
That what is known of man is but irreverent masks
Not in their great effort, but my preformence past
I let myself be storied into the admiration
Of all that fevers loss the virus of translation
The sister turned to him to let off little steam
They joked a few strange terms, the common ones to fiends,
of what is bad and
what is vulger and what is brief
I do not hate them simply
I do not hate the world
In quivering and boiling heat
I did not preach the cold
In little stories lost and minds entranced now list in thought
I did not, Idid not,
I did not hate each verry thought
But when my sight came to the everlasting rot,
The two of subtle disdain they offered me a spot
In there very ritual, a soft soda they bought
I did say no, but not of critical intentions
I did not hate them simply , going without mention
All that occured diseased my mind to forsee precise tension
Of lifetimes in that little seat of surgical preventions
From the pain of my auntie weak I was just yet a sponsor
Sister went in with none to eat and auntie came out smiling
We left the room,
my mind of doom,
And still in recollection
I did not hate them simply
It was a few, an awfully few
But raging, resisting need for love of deep perfection
None that exist in little life the before that I mention
I was in need of much to feed off what I cannot mention
The delacasy, finger treats of purity, yet I found imposition
I was in need, of nothing more I filled myself with apprehension
I hope the writing of the poem did indeed offer insight as you re-read it. I find it to be deeply interesting and wonder, just out of curiosity, what two lines do you feel are the core of this piece?