13-31 Part Five: What Wisdom Dost Thou Bring?

Part five.  We have gone through puberty to adulthood.  The final installment of mush and whine.  We hit the mature male and their attempt at prose.  Have they really learned anything?   Have they grown bitter?  If love is a battle field, are they now pacifists, P.O.W’s or perhaps shell shocked? Let’s find out.

You’ve been lost

Obscured by clouds

Under the rain

Stuck in dry dessert

I’ve been there with you

Even when I hardly knew

What was in the mirror

I love you, what you do

How could I not,

It’s what I choose

The songs you play

Forget the miseries

Make them new each day

The present pleasant memories

When you have been hurt

When you have been weak

When you have had to beat yourself down

To begin to build it all back up

It’s just a splash on that mural of what you are

Forget the names

Material hooks

That drag you down

Painful memories,

What if’s

And meaningless to be’s

Everything is simply what is

And you are

And I love it

You’re the beginning and the end

What we have done to ourselves.

No need for meditation for you find peace in their eyes,

A secret source of serenity where your love lies.

To spend time with one whom you adore, makes you feel the thief

Adored are the things you always wished one would adore

You feel the sort of things once discarded as romantic lore

Typical destinies lead you to question the con

Isn’t that just the curse of desire

Walking in your life keeping the soul a fire

It’s a double down die hard sin to logic

And you’ll know it will break your heart if they deny it

Power tripping will put you on your face

Pushing pace will just risk disgrace

It’s hard to manage the breaks

When you’re racing against separate fates.

Sitting here, my room warm with or without

But don’t let me get used to this weather,

For all addictions do begin to wane.

You bring clouds to my mornings

Begins to rain with a spiteful scowl

This jungle of yours is for animals,

Not right for this beast

And beauty is no excuse

For where we espy heaven you bring hell.

To improve

What am I to do

To remain worthy of you?

How will I emerge?

Find some steady ground to live

And still stay safely near belligerence?

Down to returning bottles

Fearing my credit and without my ride

Police too thirsty for quotas today

Not safe to take mine

The hermit with no shell

They are already full

Or I continually fail to fit

Bravery is only to ease the mind

When on the tight rope well aware of the drop

But bravery does not make you any smarter

Or any less venerable.

Is it brave to go it alone

Or stupidity to carry the extra burden?

I suppose I could list the women whom the muse had used

Mauled the ones who used in return

And little ole’ me in the middle feeling the expanse of circumstance

The illusion of reality

The falsehood of possibility

Will I always be a bitter slave?

There is no quit, but only submit

And they’re all lies

Eyes, poetic brides

Tis the work of a fool

Bounded by the boundless description of hinder like tales of suffering.

A queen to pardon his mortal sins

To rest his head

Take to bed

And demand the same from him

To demand and be demanded

One enchanting to the peasant

But also dependable and welcome as spring

To a would be king.

At times I look back to blissful blindness.

Not that I wish for such a regression

That steed I could never quite tame nor train

Was  found ever charging into folly

No, loneliness be but another abstraction

no more nor less than the courtesans in one’s life.

Those who take, receive

perhaps partnered in loss or bounty.

It’s no more task or tarry to maintain oneself

than to engage in custom codependency

Biology, the mother of all conundrums

Has her devious methods and all too often

We seek medications for the drugs

already within.

Never embracing the solace

nor the opportunity to conceive ones own composition

from which they are to compose

The trivial, tragedy, conflict and comedy

all can be spattered, still to be art.

But love, love?

That, if you wish no spattering

Unconscious strokes layered finely

In a bold yet mellowed hue

That, will take a tempered hand,

a steady gaze

A soul that knows solace.

What will it take to attain your presence?

Bend saplings like a bear

Scribe things worthy of Voltaire

Strike a pose

Bare a cross

With roses fill the air

A hint of your tastes

A taste of your whims

a demand

allusion

your abhorred and favored sins

Surrender than impair

Coy births fools

Silence kills

keep I not on the blind dare

but to pursue with care

Than just sitting in want on my derriere.

Games are forgotten fables

and your past historic lore

The horizon a mission

and sentiment becomes law

When joy is in a complexion

and found in your reflection

Your worthiness you question

and pure is your intension

Ones mind is not blank

nor diluted or ill

You know a sound structure

You know pit from hill

Fears do not protest

Scars do not tingle

vanity subsides

to a bashful trickle

Humble are your words and lust, a subtle pulse

It’s all bread, breath, water and sun

The sinless apparition

of ever wanting none

Walls dissipate than close

with a farmers faith

in what he sows

Not a smile forced

Caress mistaken

A tongue held

A kiss barren

No questions of if

or wonders of why

Whens been answered

When is nigh