poem & kobu pictures

your cognition is never restricted to just this.

in fact flights of fancy reveal seeds whose
trees grow taller than the life you once thought yourself to lead.

never, yet always subtle,
the revealers suggestions.

the one penetrating ray pierces without question…

he re-steeps his pot of tea water “who came up with the new artwork?”, he asks, casually, glancing at the walls of the metal box.

“Its Dave’s actually”, the charmingly beautiful woman behind the counter, as she gestures towards me.

“oh, ok” the leisurely dressed man.
“we have new art every month”, she.
“oh, ok”, he.

then back to the plight at hand —how to stand with feet planted
rootlike into an ocean whose source never ceases, while simultaneously
thrusting arms, hands, head and fingers into the wispy clouds
of reflecting effervescence.

how to inspire the inner eyes of the masses
into a state of “ah ha”

the depth of this eye speaks not in words
but through divine suggestive means

the endless mingling of she and he

pumping eternal blessings in order to transmit mothers caressing
in order that eyes might join in field of hatreds falling away

and angers uselessness revealed for what it is.
How I long to capsize the dying ship with its mentally overactive, power hungry
captain.

how i long to curl up like a fluffy white kitten within the breast of each
malnourished, miss-lead american.

to share a taste of the renewing nectar of captain mistress yes.

her winged body lifting I above the confusing feedback mechanism

her piercing black eyes crying the shadow creatures
who transmute pain into reasonless pleasure,

one step of birth, and death after another.

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