The Beautiful Country

Across the borders of my hearth,
to the boundaries of my brothers,
be what I'm not on a distant tongue,
say what I am in an idiom that's familiar.

Atop a lap as only a frame,
the hand's brush strokes that create
a fire in the form of a concept,
the beginnings of what could grow from a seed:

"All is what
we are not.
We are all
we seem not to be"

Now she bestows upon me
a wish granted: the greatness of serenity.
Blessedly, I take a bended knee,
to kiss the palm of the One,
of the All,
of SHE.

When people speak of me...

...it's of my selfishness, my mood shifts, my bizarre antics, my overwhelming sense of superiority, my lack of devotion, my talents/my lack of talent...

When the Internet speaks of me, it's of my "unassuming viability."

Which of these characterizations carries more/less weight?

*

unfurl curls,
press pale to warmth.

weed your wants,
discard ardent tales and taunts.

blessed
burned
never to be reborn.

lessons unlearned,
exiting whispers wellheard.

find litways, paths,
press chest forward, wind to back.

blinded amble,
pragmatic gait

the overthoughts leave
while the patient wait.

ALL IS WELL!

WELL IS ALL!

WE ARE ALL SO WE ARE WELL!

WE ARE WELL SO WE ARE ALL!

risen and raised
like a fire extinguished
but not quelled.

out of a bed never made
out of a movie reel dream only half played.

wisdom and the wise
the tired and sick eyes

out of the deftly made attempts
the ones we can't even make an effort to try

the pessimist and pride
what lasts forever and what has died

out of these persistent untruths, i align.

out of these falsieties that come together honestly:

we all arise.

it
is
what
it
is

AND

it isn't what it is.

"I don't believe in alot of things, but I do believe in duct tape."

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