on being forthright

from 6/8/2006

let me be forthright

Afterward
the commentary of a new day
as an assualt on all sides from media
and media and media and the information
hear the delay
the cold reality of broken synapses
am I feeling?
or am I not working?

It's as if I've bled myself to death for more than a century
and being filled up against my will
what I want is not what I want
and what I want is somehow so deep.

I am an iconoclast
I am the sundry usage of inefficent means
I am one of those leftover from ideology.

in the morning sunrise that I have ever seen
or the cracking of someone's smile
that plays like an advertisement
you'd have no idea the multitude of convictions
that place upon all of us
the need to be subjective
(isn't transcendence no longer vital?)
yet I am rendered confused and purposeless

I chuckle at the persistence of others
yet feel so oddly in debt
for the tragedy of my spirit
mirrors the triumph of these lives
and the continuance of blasphemy
that seems to fuel the motion
of progress
of antinomy.

I decided recently, after seeing a movie
that motion is more blessed in the dream world
with the lucidity of no gravity

see what I mean?

I perish with every incongruent breath
and breathe a sigh with every perishing
I think I laugh when you're not looking
which means I must be laughing most of the time...

for while my image is tainted by society
my base, past the inclusion of anonymity
savors the security of incompleteness
even while my desires yearn for your approval.