Shirring Quirks

Shirring quirks There is a hollow in my complex poet’s soul ambivalence and contradictions a vagary maybe a vagrant’s search for meaning roots expression a void and a fill just the same a need to be heard Stream of consciousness at best with sudden abrupt twists and turns between flexible moldings derived from schema files impressions of context origin contingency and sometimes seeming incoherence Incontinence it may appear and yet a gathering when fragmentation on the fabric of my tapestry feeds an inner need to reveal all clarity and still remains in mystery of mellow capricious constancy Is it weird and odd idiosyncratic in peculiar eccentricity does it disguise more than it reveals am I too secretive or shy when I play with words ad infinitum and on that matter is it not absurd when scribbles are fixed in verse Is it strength conferred or foible fancy sneaky meaning when the open book that I am remains closed in view of polar opposites becomes a gathering in the theatre of mind with a puzzled audience on ranks and sidelines My twirling on this planet used to be clear and absolute with no conscious orbits left infallible of strong delusion I am now free to dither to have more question than there are answers and need to understand myself before such Quirk dissolves and exclusivity becomes open inclusion No bestsellers yet or never but at the moment I cannot sell my soul to the highest bidder and remain just there in tender reconciliation in what in where and when today 03rd February 2018