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Age versus Urge

with a random urgency i set these rhythms to motion to throttle the imagination into spastic attacks of insurgency through the methods of madness as in words that capture the sequence of humanity by their absolution immersed in this cataclysm of decision dissecting revision as agent into reason and logic with growing awareness fitful ay best even for those strong of intellect, the vanishing seed has scared me awake with cold sweat dripping down the spinal column like fluid fear coalescing on the outside of this figure famished and hungry for knowledge like a thick wedge with some wine to let this lament pour forth with a swift experienced tongue as derived of the seriousness of the occasion for casual causality, and much like the grenades thrown by hand into the fray the explosive distinctions fit naturally where our rationale tells us it shouldn’t as the round peg slips in through the square hole and so now imagine if you will that this square hole is reality or what i will refer to as general law trying to conform the every pattern into one variable “proven” to work well with others… thus creating the ever-self-sustaining mechanism of culture we can inhabit today as well-tested over time’s little complexities underlying every action dilating in tune with inside of the world mind from which we can define our own reality much like the round peg channeling itself along the constrictive confine of general law by advancing a more personal law of exception to the rule, as this body breaks down on occasion sometimes to failure as the populace is further shocked into shapes perhaps they would rather not be contorted into when the pressurization gets to be too much of a catastrophe as one who has jumped on top of the grenade might attest if they have lived through the blast rattling flesh off bones in fiery wreckage ripping trauma into sight like a blazing fist of god with a twist, but when one asks the question of how it is this came to be the way it is there will never be an admittedly simple answer to the vicious anger or rage that builds up over lifetimes sometimes in a shallow rut enslaved as swallowing grave with a deeper gravity than one could fathom imagining a worth or value applied to the human mission to appreciate we are each upon individually… this face haunted with age looks for remedy in an easily distracting purge for this feeling streaming bits of me to all of you, and the instinct within the animal is crass and rude to that fleeting serene essence, of whom we are all touched and swoon…

Thanks, khet.