Saturday, July 22, 2017

SUMMER SUBORIGINAL CUMULATION






THE HEAT IS ON
















FUTILE




SEEKING AN ANSWER DOES NOT ANSWER 





The mind has many ways to find an answer
Which may not be a solution but a repetition
Unless personal integrity will submit to truth
This is beyond the aptitude of some mortals
Who have been indoctrinated behind portals.









THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDER

















The emergence of an obscure entity
at the blink of an eye in slow motion 
had been suspended between intervals
biting time gingerly, longing to be realized
in a flash it vanished, the illusion of an illusion 
a ghost of an angel, the shadow of what was once
an appearance only relative to that moment's catch
quantum possibilities in store at imagination's stretch.















INCLINATION




Our inbred inclinations should always stay
The tendencies we have will not go away
Yet the experience we get may generate
The kind of effect that butterflies have
A new person is born outside the grave.













WORK IS SUBORIGINAL PLAY




Work is play to me, yet I don't play to win
Neither to lose, I don't play games with my art
Instead I make art my play, I don't observe rules
I play with whatever is in my reach at that moment
What comes out of this I have been launching on www
Long after I depart they'll be floating free in cyberspace.
















DEATH



I have been fascinated with death, curious about the thereafter
A subject that disturbs most people, fear of death is intelligible
I am a little bit in love with death, particularly metamorphosis
I have no expectations though, the bevilderment is enough
I have no rush so to speak, yet I didn’t live life to survive
Not sorry for those who die but folk they leave behind
Who will also die in good time yet miss the beloved
That’s where sadness is, I’d like to go with a smile
The only thing I’ll take along is a space of mind
The inbred navigator reaching for a fine find.











LINE OF THE ABSURD



The string that connects
also separates the mask
from the poet to puppet.
The vested power line
dispenses bias esteem
distinguishing the king
exploiting the peasant.
The line that separates
the master from a slave
is ludicrous, totally inane
to cross this line is brave
to define it will save face.