MODE of Cosmic Therapy: You Seek in Vain for Beauty and Grace You Will Not Express
To know as I am known
I do not see or feel
The color of your tone
Nor perceive the smoothness of your stone
I walk upright in unembellished totality
Untrue to sound within familiar air
I am removed from the memory of care
Who when calls my name I am unaware
Of sad unapologetic disinterested refrain
Filling layers of reoccurring unexamined pain
A semblance fraught with undisclosed deceit
In welcomed disguised motions to retreat
As if I am a blatant fool so sweet
To offer my condescending temperate fare
Wandering eyes uncontrollably do stare
Searching for meaning beyond compare
Yet, I find nothing but ill disposed preferential moor
Suited like an emblazoned young excited matador
Whose desire contented bull does not contemplate the score
But hastens in fierce enraged agony oblivious to defeat
Do not say I am judiciously unprepared
For the seizing of the tempest gale
Selects the unexpected course to sail
Count me not among the sexless dead
Who watch their secret lives in hopeless dread
Unread books will not prevail
When untouched fear dispatches its precious hue
Raw experience defies disgusted flavor's nail
I can not walk upon your path of chosen glee
It reeks of wanton choking imbued certainty
I remain unmoved by cavern's haunting heed
To deny a love dauntingly filled with greed
And profess an elevated sense of gracious need
If I am to be shown as I am known
I receptively will myself to be sliced to the bone
Tear, rip, strip all superficiality of which I have honed
I desire nothing but to be what it is I can not see
To exalt the lowest part of me
For that is where I shall discover unbiased divinity
