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The strings of life are mangled and tangled.
Steering a course of intersections and emotional withdrawals.
My contextually dependent mind sees deja vu
as the string tosses and crosses about over and over once more.
It fulfills its predetermined course of routine:
Awaken, drift, adhere, disappear, rework, try, and sleep.
The strands hold fatigue in this tiring monotony having
exhaustingly knotted in this series all too many times before.
There is a desire for more.
However, a loss sense of passion stands in the way to
introspect on memory’s past to know what is in the way.
The once magical memories knitted in a quilt of teeming blue
have greyed and the threads are ripped apart in malice and in haze.
They lie in sorrow on the floor and now stand as lost dreams
evaporating towards unseeing distances far and far away.
However, I am obliged to seek refuge in a particular scene
that frees me of my somber disposition.
When in this place of childhood forgiveness,
I find the strings of life unbounded and limitless
as they explore the liberation of free spacely intuition.
It is here where chemical atoms fly a little
freer and my mind can wander at ease.
The unconscious ego swells in awe
embracing the current condition of the beach.
In this space, the strings of life have expanded past
the confining square of routine into a space
unfamiliar to my human eye.
The strings of life place themselves in a world on
the fresh beaming night of July 4th.
It is in darkness where fireworks
malevolently streak across the sky like lightning.
They are ravenous, feeding upon my admiration
through bright spurts of light.
Their subsequent golden roars slash across
the sky like a shooting star gone awry with the
utmost sense of pride.
In the forefront of the scene, the slenderly, twisted fingers
of smoke from smoldering barbeque charcoals
eerily creep toward us admirable viewers,
creating an impenetrable curtain of smog.
It swallows the sky whole, making the moon a shadowy ghost of itself
as the young minded astronomers curse out in annoyance as they
attempt to adore the phase’s ethereal glow.
The scene indulges my senses with an overwhelming afferent experience.
The smell produced by the burning embers fills my nostrils with an
elusive sensation of summer’s sweet passionate affluence.
The grit of sand prickling against my skin allows me to feel one with
Earth’s geological presence. I image myself as a scaly lizard or a snake
running across a rock to embrace the
moon’s warm presence amidst the cold of night.
The light of a bonfire teases me in my peripheral
as I run with the wind towards the shore.
The thin white sand dampens to a thicker paste against
my feet as I arrive closer to the changing tides and rolling waves.
What once was used as white noise to help me sleep amidst
my night light now deafens my ears with a hearty bellow.
The strings of life attached to my spirit sound out in dance
and song upon the asynchronous boom of the waves.
My mind knits itself a square of teeming blue to
recall these moments of cool serendipity and tranquility.
Although these childhood memories offer a light
of everlasting peace, they are nothing more than a
distant memory I can no longer unlock in real time.
Knowledge holds too power over my psyche.
I can no longer find independence in light of the
waves. I too much seek the presence of another I do not
have to validate my sense of being. I envy those of blissful
ignorance; as does the strings of life currently mangled
and tangled in an overwhelming plight of hurt and unforgivingness.