There is something occurring to me
in a sort of centrifugal force
of the ocean kind of pattern.
The chop and ebb of the ceaseless brainwaves
and the breaking emotional tide,
create a natural phenomena
that doesn’t seem to have been mapped out
or explained in any hyper-rational way.
I must accept this for it’s dark beauty.
My mind is not to be set on auto-pilot
or to be settled into some simplistic state.
Coming off Paxil, it wasn’t meant for me.
I have the tools, the insight, the courage needed
to meet my fears, my desires, my life
head clear, head on.
In a flash, love was made by two white elephants,
with wild bouts of Chantix induced anti-nicotine tendencies and lucidity.
Exactly how long is your effect’s duration, Pill Generation?
Long enough for breakfast in bed-to burst the Yolk of Heaven
and rage against the dying of the light,
until that other pupil remains wider than its ordinary brother.
Things are well kept and controlled here my Brahman brother.
Nothing repeats itself in this hollow space besides the elephants
and freedom references and fluorescent light.
And as I so deemed I dreamed, missing my lucidity.
No one mentioned that there are apples covering the ground in heaven,
left partially consumed-but not yet browning-for a generation.
It’s more like the High Fructose and make believe generation.
These thoughts i treat like Ishmael and others like his little brother.
Rhythms of silence can make a moment heaven.
The solitudes of the flesh are the skin of elephants.
Sin is a state of being known by those devoid of necessary lucidity.
Sons of the Lords of Darkness replaced by the Sons of the Lords of Light.