segunda-feira, 23 de dezembro de 2024

My first strong disciple

 His cheeks were swollen
these early years are in him
The feast of youth
the guessing game life verily becomes

the confusion locked in
yet through it bursts of glee and amusement
none of that anger and regret
the tehoro grass is knee high

The blue sky has aged though
pale and warm the sun abrasive
like the old failed teachers once ours
under willows wasting life away

remember it like headlights on 
Some high potential motor humming
wake your mind
Don't just glare out here at life

searching for a semblance
A logical arguement for existance
besides all of these oversweetened treats
wrapped in the dogma that reeks from down the street

can you maintain your grin and it's taste
Emulate the others and keep a straight face
never revealing those secrets that deepen and span
the younger you decided gave yourself the upper hand

Strangle me with the dangling string of our reality
Yet the layers of the universe just peel away here
Years of weakness and denial
I seem to be able to turn back the dial

Not to right the wrongs
but to slip into your petri dish minds
to plant crippling nostalgia
with a finger inside each epoch

struggle to vomit
grin slowly melts cheeks well reddened
Blue sky still cloudless point out
How then is it turning grey

The image starts to shudder
first pleasantly and  delicately
Until it humms and vibrates a life into itself
creating a tunnel vision slowly swallowing up your memories

So you can come back and repeat it all with me again on the big blue
Until we get it right


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