Burnt Imagery...or Blinding Clarity

Wistful the other day, material victories not really making a difference to my get-up-and-go. I like the money for what it buys me, don't get me wrong, and I get some feeling of accomplishment when I crush my assignments; winning friends and influencing people. But it felt like this, sans drame...another silly-putty thought stretched out a bit, transport for rising and falling rhyme waves. It's almost certainly not what you think. ;-)

Idle in the green-laden world, fragrant

Withered limbs speak runes of lightning

Slowly slipping away, my tattered ego spent in its charge of touch

I don’t think I’ll miss it much

No consumer true for freer self

In odd container on non-odd shelf

Watching sleep-dreaming buyers sleep-walking past

Sleep-starving for bargains (supplies won't last!)

While my lines grow old still change renews

Settled self in dilated-lens hues

Seems wooden, artificial, a play-acting thing

False-noted and empty, a puppet on strings

Still, no tragic end in sight, nor dramatic pause

Just same-simple constant effect and cause

Foreseen fork, backtracking bend

My inevitable return after gyre and wend

Home when I bargain struck and mantle hung

On worldly peg my power slung

Comporting, pretending like those that I thought

To mingle with, well-reviewed pleasures sought

Sought and found in some measure, I cannot deny

Simple animal feeling’s very hard to decry

To dislike or distrust when deeply immersed

Permanent change that cant be reversed

So forward then, yes, the course is well-ran

But no, this half-winded self is not who I am

More or less you might say depending on who

You think you are, do you really know You?

I have my doubts, and the good grace

To mirror-look into that empty face

And reflected see what I’ve become

To know I’ve traded all for some

Corrections now? burning, will-breaking the glamour

Shatter  the mask, with flash-bright hammer

Disguise-dropping may be consequence-rife

But better the lightning than a middling life