KB
I.
He Begs
Mold His Voice
Shape His Sentences
Choose His Words
She Obliges
II.
Full of Compassion, Devotion, & Inspiration
Exorcising His Fear of undying nights birthing no dawns
Liberates His Mind from yokes harnessed to the bitter past
Her honeyed hymns raise the vibrations of His Soul
A Soul bereft of attachment to egoic transactions
III.
His Soul imbued with Love
Love for Joy found in Knowledge
The Knowledge His Soul is no longer idle
It gyrates forever more to Universal Rhythm
Awareness merged with Divine & Self & Source
Turning His Brow up to the Heavens
He sends Her a grateful prayer
IV.
She laughs at His Struggles
Not in the mocking jeers of the schoolyard
But with the self-possessed contentment of a Mother
Watching Her Son explore the limits of His Consciousness
A Child who beclowns Himself with naïve regularity
V.
Still, doubt plagues Him
Nights misspent crumbling to pieces
Days wasted pasting himself back together
He casts away His Aspirations & His Creations
The lack of His Faith, hallmarked by His Impetuousness
VI.
Fantasizing He will awaken as the Hero
The Hero She Loves, Needs, Misses, Wants
His Love can’t, shan't, won’t stir passion in Her Soul
It is Jealous & Possessive & Reductive & Transactional
His Lust elicits no Affection, Benediction, or Protection
Flawed, His Conception of Her inflames Her Grief
VII.
Tears swell & surrender to gravity
Her Visage framed with rivulets of alabaster
She is not Capricious nor Miserly nor Withholding
Her Plight, worsened by the impossibility of conveying to Him
He Begs
Mold His Voice
Shape His Sentences
Choose His Words
She Obliges
II.
Full of Compassion, Devotion, & Inspiration
Exorcising His Fear of undying nights birthing no dawns
Liberates His Mind from yokes harnessed to the bitter past
Her honeyed hymns raise the vibrations of His Soul
A Soul bereft of attachment to egoic transactions
III.
His Soul imbued with Love
Love for Joy found in Knowledge
The Knowledge His Soul is no longer idle
It gyrates forever more to Universal Rhythm
Awareness merged with Divine & Self & Source
Turning His Brow up to the Heavens
He sends Her a grateful prayer
IV.
She laughs at His Struggles
Not in the mocking jeers of the schoolyard
But with the self-possessed contentment of a Mother
Watching Her Son explore the limits of His Consciousness
A Child who beclowns Himself with naïve regularity
V.
Still, doubt plagues Him
Nights misspent crumbling to pieces
Days wasted pasting himself back together
He casts away His Aspirations & His Creations
The lack of His Faith, hallmarked by His Impetuousness
VI.
Fantasizing He will awaken as the Hero
The Hero She Loves, Needs, Misses, Wants
His Love can’t, shan't, won’t stir passion in Her Soul
It is Jealous & Possessive & Reductive & Transactional
His Lust elicits no Affection, Benediction, or Protection
Flawed, His Conception of Her inflames Her Grief
VII.
Tears swell & surrender to gravity
Her Visage framed with rivulets of alabaster
She is not Capricious nor Miserly nor Withholding
Her Plight, worsened by the impossibility of conveying to Him
VIII.
He needn't Grovel
Nor need He Abandon
Unconvinced that She favors Him
He exiles His Prose to
The Ether of the
Undernourished, Unknown, Unwanted
Ambition drawn & quartered amid introspection
IX.
His Verses, irrevocably lost to virulent clutches of Despair
Empathy fed to the fires hungrily devouring His Heart
Claws of capitulation disemboweling His Autonomy
Misery spreading syphilitically through His Veins
His Thoughts, replete with immoral Detritus
True-Self rising bleary-eyed from ashes
Seventy-five lashes for The Bastard
Thrice as many for The Saint
Muse, I Beseech Thee
Hear My Plea
Nor need He Abandon
Unconvinced that She favors Him
He exiles His Prose to
The Ether of the
Undernourished, Unknown, Unwanted
Ambition drawn & quartered amid introspection
IX.
His Verses, irrevocably lost to virulent clutches of Despair
Empathy fed to the fires hungrily devouring His Heart
Claws of capitulation disemboweling His Autonomy
Misery spreading syphilitically through His Veins
His Thoughts, replete with immoral Detritus
True-Self rising bleary-eyed from ashes
Seventy-five lashes for The Bastard
Thrice as many for The Saint
Muse, I Beseech Thee
Hear My Plea
