Reparations

going handheld as the sun sets we look around the room and see souls souls treaded long throughout life inhaled a lot of dust on the journey fleeing fear towards a place with a bass kick thick I’m a lost spirit a butterfly in the wind but I’m not alone, you ever see a flock of starlings dance? those tiny birds moving in unison as though in trance returning home to you again we see a true being free of the injustice in the mind imprisoned though divine so in the beginning it has been said was the word from which all things forth brought through all ideas dreams inventions and schemes the longest fraud lasting being that trap of time seeing in a lot of my poetry this theme of jail and freedom bars of false starts and progress charts bring the top down instead of climbing up the ladder i’ve never cared for success and it’s never cared for me awesome i remain a truthful being in my individual liberty and I think we need order but I’m not sure how we should allow it to be but Tolstoy says we should not be electing leaders lead us when they cannot represent us fully and I find it’s helpful to remember the mental bisection is interpreted in different ways by different folks on different days with different hopes and similar fears and dreams to isolate a subsection of the mental realm is to violate the right to life in which exists the healthy hell realm we dwell teenagers are confused and adults deny the truth that every being is changing constantly changing i look to children who know not of responsibility or survival to show me the authentic way to be judgmental of the world and that imagination’s ok. it’s the lucidity of the momentum that drives it through back to a quickly paced and nuanced ruminated ruin like the beach sand - rubbed down by it’s own condition it meets the water under which the sandcrabs swim a bubble of air under the sea where we see the world flipped backwards different from the bubble of air surrounded by filmy water in the air reflecting back a dance with a rainbow reflection clear the past relies on the futuree and the future looks back to the past and we wonder through our blunders why the present will never last us more than this moment jn time which is brief, it’s a forgotten dream in midst of sleeping demons remembering heaven from past lives and tortured minds like ours should give pause for mercy but our tortured minds are thirsty and we drink the blood of the lesser creatures trouncing in mud until the paradigm shifts, after all it’s twenty twelve, we can not know of our potential only the remnants of our shell’s disregarded life. it crawls to a new home with a new meaning and reason why new love new discoveries of new truth in new prophecies and we look beyond the shore to explore the darkness, the stars illuminate and the fear turns to astonishment and we’re shocked to see heaven manifest in nature manifest in language manifest in you - find it’s home in me to be returned back horizontal through the chain that is responsible for keeping me alive, here and optimistic about a society whose heart has gone missing.