Having nothing to do with the poem below, I am crushing on a girl for the first time in years...and she has a boyfriend whom she currently loves....yet, she wants me like a rain, and I her like water....oh if we could only be nitrogen, or maybe helium...to either sink or fly into stability or fusion... anything but this wishy-washy breathe, and its erosion.
placenta tartar
Redundant as sexual death
the sun has set
without ego
for epochs
and our names have never mattered
as the long blink lingers
temptaion like a yarn
written upon June pansies sad faces
we are savage minutemen
and the world will always be
flat
like a delusional star ironic
in that maybe the cosmos
recognizes
the simplicity of renewal
and the complication of unfed birth
a Sunday ease
warm like a hot bucket of paint
and naked knickers
blessing the bohemian grit
for love writhes
like blond wheat with a haircut
above the earthworms
oblivious song
the pasture of jazz
simple as raster
in a drunken
rape
the telemetry of god
silent
like a holocaust
holy
for we do dwell in the fickle eternal barnyard
sexually sopping
ignorant and righteous
like a Sanskrit swastika
adorning the king
we have kingdom
to come
all over
there are words of graphic friction
begging
for a stale mated
grown folk
in diapers
like straw dogs
of the past beating
heart
of these moments
of this promised
recreance
we gladly rot
placenta tartar
Redundant as sexual death
the sun has set
without ego
for epochs
and our names have never mattered
as the long blink lingers
temptaion like a yarn
written upon June pansies sad faces
we are savage minutemen
and the world will always be
flat
like a delusional star ironic
in that maybe the cosmos
recognizes
the simplicity of renewal
and the complication of unfed birth
a Sunday ease
warm like a hot bucket of paint
and naked knickers
blessing the bohemian grit
for love writhes
like blond wheat with a haircut
above the earthworms
oblivious song
the pasture of jazz
simple as raster
in a drunken
rape
the telemetry of god
silent
like a holocaust
holy
for we do dwell in the fickle eternal barnyard
sexually sopping
ignorant and righteous
like a Sanskrit swastika
adorning the king
we have kingdom
to come
all over
there are words of graphic friction
begging
for a stale mated
grown folk
in diapers
like straw dogs
of the past beating
heart
of these moments
of this promised
recreance
we gladly rot
bendictions like raspy echoes
clearing of mustard field patches
along third world amusement parks
currency for flesh
and lost invitations
to forgotten concessions
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Okay, so I know somewhat what you're going through.
Similar for me. In this case though it's only at the potentially things could take off stage, but on my end I'm way to wrapped up thinking how ideal she is.
I don't think she's all that into the dude that's her friend/boyfriend.
So it's teaching me about patience, delusion and attachment.