obsession: sincerity

I don't have much to offer as a citizen...
or as a person in this modern race,
aside from honesty and humanity.
connecting hearts and minds alike.
If this is all I have to offer,
would you still
care
to know?

slumbers

How long have I been asleep? Un-everything and seeping in corners so abundant that one can't find a difficult way out of it all, like breathing, coming natural and passing with the ease of swaying motions. Confined only by the willingness to abruptly shake and rattle the silly shapes we draw of our lives, hindered by the words we watch ourselves speak. Piano sonatas play with the rain. A gaze to change the essence of a day. Where was it all mistaken for just another sequence of nows and entwined with the consistency of expectations? Heaving each hope to stay alive, encapsulated in a couch hidden by the drawn shades, festering thought provokes a fractal array, we stay away. Demagnetized by some static disruption, the desire to be plucked from time seems to be a conscious set: intention-thought-motion -- in no specific order, rather simultaneous in structure. Spanning out beyond the latent measurements of time, which causes irregularities in the constant presence of 'being' (thought, creativity, expansion, retraction), the essence of interacting with the self which is only seemingly, reaching a point of escape velocity. Snapped-rubberband-pop-action-energetic emission, to become the commissary to provoke those still sleeping, wake up! The alarms have been snoozed perpetually, phone-ringers silenced and gagged by all means, this forced silence, this space between breaths, this space...causing a tumultuous wake in sentimentality, in honesty, breaking the very means by which we communicate before words, together, silently. In dreams the distance is but a notion, loose and malleable, but the structure we unconsciously agree on while waking can only be trifle philosophy, a void of formulated consistency shouldering its own weight. The paradox can stretch on and we can also continue to slumber, waiting, getting over things, settle into changes...but it still remains a constant, this shifting, this becoming. Blind irregularities embrace and gather to loose form and become a flow, a wave function of organic matter. Fluctuating awake, smiling.