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Divine Musings

In the most unusual manic-panic creep,

Wildly lurking behind every corner,

The Shadow was about to recover some ungraspable but always constantly desired idea..

A fantasy, a darker shade of fantasy: a fun fetish.

Or, perhaps, could it be foolish fanciful notions?

This fully torked delusion can be a haunting mirage.

A make believe vintage slogan ghost from generations past.

That worn out American Dream. That Life.


-Free from the routine confusion and disorder-

Dreamed by all but known only by creatures who dream of other more sophisticated things.

Silenced but still flailing at grasping the point or any and all major traffic signs,

the Shadow returned all the acquired mixed-matched pieces and useless information slowly..

I remember because it was a autumn night.

Leaves were falling and there were trees white with moonlight.

It was a cool night overflowing with mysterious excitement that unforgettably changed the mellow quite in all bright lights.

Suddenly there was a new bustle among the stars as the speed of light left a stirring in the darkness.

-A secret above trees carried on the wings of winds-

This covert paradox of milky way wonder experienced when he kissed this girl-was a vivid spectacle of unutterable visions never mentioned but still loudly exuding a slinky lust.

This was a soul cleansing need,

a physical miracle,

dirty deeds done dirt cheap overdosing religious experience with every swelling orgasm!

These are the divine musings of the Creator, my Creator.

These are the ideas of any other brave soul who decide to capture their essence in moments.

For a moment at one point in time, these sacred thoughts belonged to God.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 


excellent prosody. My reading will differ from yours but I hope you can hear the beauty and flow of your words.
I am not willing to offer technical critique at this stage unless you request it.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

In agreement with Jess, did you listen to
his reading?
Have you ever read in public? Your poetry
is performance art.

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