Do You Ever

EDIT: this was written just over a month ago. it was another impromptu piece and i guess i just forgot to post it. so here it is.

Do You Ever

ever get that feeling, that quintessential feeling;

everytime you walk down the street?

and ho you there on your throne,

staring, lording over the moaning gloam,

have you ever had that feeling, that pitter-pattering feeling.

and time, in your unstoppable-ness,

have you too, given a moment’s pause, and felt that same feeling, that inching, creeping feeling, all through your perpetuity.

that rapid river and arching falls, strange fellows in homogenity, never heeding, forever eating, eroding. trailing, crashing, winding, plumenting, wandering, never knowing.

and crusading granite, lone in your gray manifestation,

have you, blinded by those years, ever condensed that moss-seared feeling

sacred, and sacrosanct. a beautiful, simple feeling.

that feeling of needing someone.

Flaming June by Lord Frederick Leighton

somehow it’s like reading a trace of one’s own inner emotions. seeing how specific words are triggered by those innuendos your inner self carelessly leaves for you to discover and to claim for your own. and always, you’re left surprised, not knowing what, when, who, why or how, only simply, that you know. it’s all at once not you, but very much still you. i like ‘instant poems’ simply because they leave you staring at the indecipherable end-product, but with a perverse sense of meaning, like an electronic circuit board. to everyone else, it looks meaningless, tissue-words, wet with the slop of emotions and slapped onto the frame of fragility, thereby claiming pretentious work. but that’s where meaning stems from – becoming detached from the opinions of everyone else, being vindicated in your perceived loneliness, and safe in your knowledge of the birth and reason of each line, each stanza.

and maybe that’s what love is, being alive in your own supernova, blinded to the surrounding darkness by your very self, and burning everything dissimilar to the substance of your being.

[flickr photo=127966891]

Tags: loneliness, me.art/handiwork, Poems & Poetry