"Parents forget relationship problems affect children involved, as they see and hear it through their own eyes." Quote by Poet
Nesting in the kitchen table,
Moving my nervous feet around.
I am picking at my food, on the plate
Unstable, unable to eat.
While concealing the audible
waft through waving shadows.
My parents argue,"WE CANNOT AFFORD
And LIVING PAYCHECK TO PAYCHECK."
Voices quake, susurrating deep
In my mind and kernel frame
Making ripples spread
As hushed cries yield.
At the end they kiss and make up …
A blaze of pure warmth
Whilst it mingles off its
Charm, glowing, being in love.
.
who'duh thunk'it
such sweet semblance
shes
soft sheaths
sun'd
susurrating 'bout mine
i
feet from theirn
with mine frisbee
invested
.
i'm trying mine awful best
girl
if you'd just stop staring at
me
susurrating
touch
touch
tuh uh'ching me
i wouldn't need to
tap
tap
b'tap'n theze
thingz
Wanton Willows weave athwart the weir
Wishing all the while wilful to wind
Their winsome wands that whelm and win
The restive writhing watery way
Meandering in moonlit mazy motion
Then moving on in misty morning mood
The river runs by reed and grassy mead
Where wily waders’ stalk in stealth concealed
The stream now slows tween sandy sides
With susurrating sound surround
As silvery strains speak of the sea
And flow transforms to estuary
Breakers brash now beat the brook
Unbinding bounds of broadening bay
And memories now melt of milder motion
The River to be merged with mighty ocean
I'm walking in the mountain range of Urayoán
Under the massive umbrella-shaped Ceiba tree;
The sanctum where the Taíno chief bravely walked.
The tree looks bright with a virescent hue of life;
Full of strength, an imposing specimen to behold,
It witnessed the struggles and strength of Urayoán.
Its colossal presence, silent, stoically stands,
Its arms stretched-out, locked-in with the other trees;
Its enthralling aura woos me to come in.
Leaves susurrating secrets as they fall to the ground,
Random leaf patterns spread alluring & cueing me;
They hummed & feathered as I shuffled through the dense mat.
The old noble warrior still fights on with its
Massive roots bulging in and out of the dirt
In an abstract ultra-slow motion, it grips the ground.
Seems like time has stood still, everything looks the same,
Time has stopped as a freeze-frame, motionless, suspended;
And the Ceiba tree still stands, living, striving and proud.
Walking, shrouded by the echt loneliness of reality,
I lost my gaze in the uniformity of chaos.
Souls in slumber, malinger around with an ever dying goal in sciamachy,
Rebellious against the fallacy within our Ethos.
As I stepped across these vast edacity of desires,
I alleviate myself from the conformity of reasons.
Excavating myself from forced judgement and guile empires.
Distant, detaching the maw for quantities of neologized Love.
Returning to self. To inchoation.
Susurrating under my breath while dulcifying my path.
Does choice comprehend life or destiny an absolute notion?
Drowning in mickle hopes while infinitely landing in the rough.
Though sessile within this flesh, I confronted the banal of my actions,
Experiencing the innate rebirth in an inane, fusty existence.
It's just! It's just! Confused and flabbergasted in knowing only in fractions.
I live dying in life, striving to thrive in absolute endless coexistence of inconsistent constants.
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