POETRY PAGE THREE
COLUMN NINETY-FOUR, JULY 1, 2003
(Copyright © 2003 The Blacklisted Journalist)
PORTRAITS FROM THE UNCONSCIOUS
There is an underlying image
of all of us
Without which we are conceived
And with which we resign to open passion,
Externalised through self.
As we do not express feelings
We limit ourselves to portraying them.
The touch of sensuality in words
Possesses a linear precocity
Lacking consistency of intention.
Willingness is abstract and lives
In the cellís shadow awaiting fertilisation.
Evil is not our purpose
But rather humanityís.
Not characterised by well-being,
Spread through evil and itself.
Flashes do not stifle us,
As the silence of tears
Is more powerful, and thus unsuitable.
There is weeping which resists through
Without attaining the Self.
Selfishly, I believe humanity
Is about to change.
Grave and manifest.
We transcribe ourselves momentarily, capturing
The empiricism of the situation,
Hidden in conscious metamorphosis.
There is no crime awakening
A recrimination of deeds.
Of cautious honour.
There are stars, which after
Have body with the Universe,
Incorporating cellular waves,
Tangible to us as obstacles,
And so, we may say,
There exists pure internalised
And meditation as inherent
Morality and public service
Dividing the visible entities
Of that same specie. ##
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