Desires Of My Mind

Desires in search of attires to bear the fruit of satires for my attire to make more desires
Unable to be aware of the nature of this mire
I weave the quilt of guilt as my belt to uphold up my pants of rants

Lost in my desires, engulfed by my fashion for new attires and enslaved by the mind behind my minds barbed wire
Unable to wake up, I hick up through my life of desires as a ream of dreams

In the pursuit of a dream, in this leap of my sleep
I have become a brute to loot, to scoot and to recruit more sleep

In this sleep, I weep, I sweep, I peep through the sleep
Dreaming, I am awake, awake within the dream of the sleep, seeping through life’s dream within the dream of the dream
I make up my own beams and screams of dreams

Confused, camouflaged, bruised, and abused by my own mind
I excuse myself of the self as a separate self to help me with the accused, with the amused

Within time, within this twine and within this train of this intertwine
I measure my treasure, my pleasure, my tether to live through the weather of the tether

In the name of together, for the sake of the heather of the other
I hold, to be bold, to uphold this mold, to live in my own blind folded mold
To behold this fold within the fold, I am sold to the wings of desire and to the streams of dreams

Wandering, meandering, plundering and laundering my plundering to make my I a hardening
I am just gardening a little more darkening to keep me asleep in this nether
To make me afloat, to look for another boat, to look for another ship of relationship
And never to unzip, to take upon the judgeship
For the judge ship is another kinship to use as a flagship to wonder of my next battleship

Ships I change, whips I arrange
But for the scar of the ships whip, I am always in range

With Scars I am full, through the stars I am filled
To maybe someday, maybe one day, I may wake up, not from the dreams or through the desire within the dream to shake up
And actually wake up

Maybe within that movement of the moment’s movement, I may invoke, provoke and evoke

Evoke

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The Tether of The Other

In the name of the tether, each is for the other
The good tether, the bad tether, the dark tether, the light tether, the love tether, each is just another tether
For within each other, with roots in the nether and leaves toward the father, we nurture the mother

The mother that gives birth to the web of life
In the ebb and flow of life, I may forget this mother
Yet the mother remembers the tether to all of her other

To care for the other, to share with the other, to spare another
Every tether gets stronger by the number
For each number is another feather within this heather that make up every feather and the heather

So Shine up, soak up, rise up, lift up each other
For each is a tether to another and every other invokes the another

So clean up, lean up to wake up each other, one another
For each is a deed, a feed, a need to the other to sow the seed of the tether
And none is a weed, for every weed is another need to nourish one another

For every seed that is sowed is to be freed, to knead, to heed, to bead every thread of life
So let the flowers bloom, the lovers boom and the hours filled with perfume

And I let me forgive, I let me live, I let me give, I let me outlive that which I give to re-give to each other, for one another, to lighten the tether, to heighten each other

Each is a fairy, a glory, a story and an allegory
For there is no other.

None

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My Self

All is an expression of myself, a reflection of myself
Reflecting on to myself, a self with no self to itself, in itself, for itself
selling itself to another self to know itself
forgetting that the myself I sold to another self is another self but not myself

To hate/love someone, is to “know” someone
To know someone is to share experiences with someone, to make memories with someone, of someone
I say I love my mother, friend etc because I know that someone, I have a memory of experience with that someone
I wonder if my memory is hate/love
I wonder if I am in love with that someone or if I am actually in love with my own memory, my own perception of that someone or memory of someone

As I tangle and dangle in this perception and my own deception of loving someone/something that is out there in my thought, in my knot and within my heart

I lose myself in the memory of another to create another, one another, only to realize my tether
For the tether to another is another feather.
So I look for comfort in these feathers of the other’s, in these another’s
Not realizing that every feather is only a prop and will drop making my tears drop

In these tears I tear the trap of my map to see my nap
The nap that I am in, the tap I dance to, within the fence I built
Whence I made my fort of comfort within this fence and hence that which i called love
For I can never know the nature of this fort of comfort when I am in it, within it

To look at this fort, is to get out of the fort, to brace the weather
The weather I have hid myself from, the self that I hid myself from that I call MY self
And when I get to this My Self and wants to know My self, I can never know MY self

For the self has no self to itself till I call it MY self to make it myself
in reference to another self who has their own self but neither is a self with no shelf that needs no help and yet is a selfless self knowing itself

For the self that wants to know itself can never know itself
And when the self thinks it knows itself, it is no longer itself but another perception of itself, myself
Maybe such is the nature of my self.

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