TIME DELAYED RELEASE

Inner regions of the mind is exposed unintentionally
A painting is never finished, frozen for timed release
An ongoing process, haphazard, impromptu, casual
Exposing the unforeseen in sustaining the intuitive.

TRUE SELF

HOW ELSE COULD YOU BE LOVED?

Unless you are who you truly are you can't be loved
Only what you pretend to be can be loved accordingly
Yet to understand who you truly are can be challenging
Let alone the beloved to be equally genuine in authenticity
So true love is rare, very rare, people do anything to be loved
All in vain unless they are for real the status symbol will deceive
The familiarized aspect of appearance can be extremely misleading
What one regards as love under such conditions is merely a deception
Since the beloved should have also accomplished the same genuine task
So much for the exaggerated ‘I love you’, I wish to dare provoke you to be true.

SUBORIGINAL SCRIBBLES

 Scribbling has been one  of my oldest habits
well over half a century I have been drawing
scratching the surface when sand gets wet 
depicting on the steam over glassy facades
my hands move without conscious direction 
no intention, spontaneous candid finger play.

 

SUBORIGINAL ART

I have devised the term "Suboriginal Art”

To this the dictionaries have no definition 

I hereby use my poetic license, declare it 

The literary definition of a novel art form. 

First phase is casual psychic automatism

Finishing touches; cutting-edge intrinsic

Primitive-Modern ~ Raw nature > refined.

This notice serves as; registry, copyright

Warranty, attitude and all linguistic claims.

DELAYED SET QUANTUM

Digging hard when diving deep

not quite the same while asleep

reaching out for a special dream

more like fishing as it may seem.

The expression of an impression

evoked instantly in a given space

like consciousness in cyberspace

a parallel universe at the reverse.

The opposite points of reference

interact at the bedrock of internet

the grounds on which we’ll create

a coeval in which we may navigate.

.

FRAME OF MIND

The depth of your being

encompasses hidden forces

with the potential of expanding

the traits which are on the surface.

The inherent aptitudes can be provoked

latent powers emerge once they're evoked

those dormant energies can easily be tapped

once they are detected and discreetly unwrapped.

On one hand there will be many benefits to contend

yet such an intricate process should inevitably depend

on an attitude, the purpose of what a person might intend

whether it is to dominate, exterminate or rectify and amend.

GENESIS

The answer to prayers

ember of the heavens

tiny particles of stars

entering atmosphere

as meteorite shower.

The friction of entry 

thus peeling crust

impact of a verve

inciting the seed 

traction of speed

igniting the flame

of a new life form

from way up there 

deep into the ocean

a sprout of divination

the story of evolution.

RECLUSE

Voluntary confinement is a valiant quest

Besides this established pecking digest

A space where nothing can entirely rest

In total absence presides the holy guest

Lacking in presence but real at it’s best

Vacuous, as it provides an ultimate test.

Voluntary exile from the established way

Is a blessing in disguise in a strange way

Freedom is having a choice one can take

Not an imposition for some other’s sake

With humility, reverence, in total solitude

Can embrace absence with such attitude.

NOT FOR SALE

Like a black hole at the heart of an atom

Your paradise is a slippery slope to hell

I can tell because I more than once fell

Yet was rescued at the nick of the bell.

BALL PLAY

Here is moving past 

the ageing sorrow 

to kick the bucket 

scare the chickens 

in spoiled waters

with steroid pollute

I swallowed enough

while still at school.

In begotten karma

I salute you all

of raging fury

am a little dreary

here comes the ball

I kick it abrupt

I kick it high

to score a goal

right into the sky.

Let me ask you why

you ate the cow

before I figured how

to drink the milk.

I am on my way

to the forgotten land

where I’ll dish the news

in tomahawk scraps.

It has been a while

since I caught this bug

reluctant to leave

without a hug.

The brass is shifting

a nation drifting

right down the Nile

no room for denial

they’ll be grifting

the Sphinx in a while.