I’ve been told to temper my intent, my joy of each breathe I have left, my desires, my aggression so I can become deserving of love.
Be a pretender of sorts. Seriousness hidden. Love hidden. Passion hidden. Inquiries hidden.
Make yourself tolerable for a tolerable person. Pathetically intolerable. The ego was not created for my worship.
My whole life is practicing practicing. I’ve practiced enough.
The art of detachment living between the moments of sound.
Why settle when I can stand?
Life’s a dispersion - when the clay settles your dead. The water is stagnant.
I am thoroughly unsettled.
Free glimmery dispersion rich with pyrite and quartz.
So alone I will stand. In love with the freedom of my mind with the ghost of time infinity to hold my hand.
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Author:
Sunshinefalling (
Offline) - Published: January 23rd, 2019 19:45
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- User favorite of this poem: whisperingquill.
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Comments3
You'll never be alone, not even id you lived in a cardboard box on 2 pence per week. Allow life to take hold of you and your existence. It will love you if you allow it to. Don't be afraid to enter into other areas of live to discover the reality of your own beauty. It will be worth your while!!
Thank you Kevin. āļøā¤ļøš
Stunning.....in its walk
it's stealthy ripple into the pulse of rapture.
My compliments on your ink.
Thank you š
It's a beautiful poem. I think in real life that's part of what we do -- make ourselves tolerable for other people. But I think that's not who we are. Part of us as you say want to practice the "art of detachment living between the moments of sound". And I think it's during these moments when we detach ourselves that we find out who we really are. Thank you for the poem!
Thanks Jo! Iām glad you enjoyed it.
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