VISUAL POETRY

my life is a poem with no logic to the punctuation an imperceptible meter & non-sequitur stanzas because I'm convinced by the things that you say & seem to have no difficulty ignoring completely the mismatch your actions represent

tomorrow I must depart for nowhere totally under-funded & carrying along all the possessions that I refuse to part with

sometimes I happen upon some useful object tossed carelessly aside or forgotten in haste

to trundle someone else's belongings down a road going nowhere seems at first glance to be symptomatic of the untimely dissipation of my meds BUT I don't take them

I think that I'm way too advanced in age to be stylin' this life BUT when I was younger I possessed no preparedness for it ONLY things accumulated in quantities that kept me anchored

songs beckoned while the lyricists instructed the SOUL of an old fellow that would eventually manifest genuine acceptance of PROVIDENCE

abandoning not just the things that tether us to acceptable stability BUT concepts that constrict one's being

seeing the forces distorting the personalities one MUST encounter as if they were slaveholders with the chains clutched willfully in soiled & gnarly hands

repressing a DESIRE to emancipate them for a genuine emotional response not anticipated nor welcomed

secluded by this refusal to manifest authenticity

alone with only your ephemeral cognition to comfort the bruising...  a cold cohabitant for REAL...  yet quite impossible to refute

but writing still...  HOPE not lost but transformed into so many stories...

  with their own manifestations...

bringing to those that have read them,...  sometimes several times over,...  SEARCHING

unexpected results...  as their desires are transformed by new concepts...  clarified perception & the necessary abandonment of all painful influence

refreshed renewed & revivified in acceptance

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