innosense
It exists in an adult like a flame in a deluge.
Adults
are full of corruption,
Yet They tell us that We are silly,
And
that our feelings are petty and trivial.
They laugh, making us feel
unimportant.
They laugh.
innosense
Little bobbyandsusie go
outside and play.
Robert and Susan return from play;
They now
find themselves with melancholy jobs
And a life with virtually no
purpose.
Many Roberts and Susans have preceded them, doing exactly
the same thing,
Never realizing what They have lost.
We laugh,
when We go outside and play.
When We return,
We are
strangers.
Let us call them They.
They laugh, as ignorance
possesses them.
They laugh.
innosense
It is everyone's
possession,
For a brief period of time.
God calls All his
children.
Does that mean that They are like We?
innosense is a
gift;
It is a present decorated with ribbons and bows.
The gift
has the same splendor,
With or without the frivolous decor.
We and They all too often take and took this gift for granted.
They laugh, perhaps with bitterness and regret.
They
laugh.
innosense
What takes away our innosense?
Is it having
sex?
Or is it becoming a certain age?
No.
It is We who decide
when to give away our innosense.
Some of We never do…
They laugh,
and All don't know why.
They laugh.
innosense
It is our sixth
sense.
It makes us whole;
It completes us.
If All saw as We
and not They,
Then the Earth would be Heaven.
But is that what
All want?
If We learned from They,
Then We could treasure this
gift.
This gift of innosense.
They would soon be
obsolete.
They laugh, and We learn.
They laugh.
I try to explain Hanson's many talents to my piers.
"What! You like Hanson!
Hanson are a bunch of gay girls.
They are teenyboppers who are sex icons to girls who can't read.
They laugh.
They say this out of pure ignorance of the worst kind.
Judgemental ignorance.
They do not wish to be laugh and scorned,
So they detach themselves from any original opinions at all.
There are some that will never see.
But I do.
I laugh.
Confronting solitude
Emanating, echoing
Throughout my abode
Grasping, groping
Its way to where I stand
Scrubbing, showering.
"Norman?" I shout alarmed
Searching, seeking
Unfruitfully for that
Rustling, rumpling
That my ears swore they heard
Fear abated, I hear someone sigh
"Who's there?" I whisper-
Afraid to speak any louder-
My words trail off and mingle
With the trail of blood
My eyes see trickling down my slick skin
I feel my mouth round in utter horror
As I realize that my razor has erred
A young girl looked at a cliff from afar;
She saw and heard the deafening roar of water tumbling over its peak,
And she shunned it.
It was simply too risky to go any nearer,
So she hid-
Or so she thought.
Years later, the girl became enchanted with a star;
She saw its sparkling luminosity,
But a voice told her it was impossible to go any nearer.
It was simply silly not to listen to this vibrant voice of reason,
So she hid-
Or so she thought.
There came a time when the girl ventured out of her jar;
She saw the cliff,
And she explored it.
She built a dam at its foot,
So she conquered it-
Or so she thought.
Her next battle was with the star.
She saw its proud, untouched surface,
And she uttered a defiant laugh.
The girl discovered what made it glow,
And she recovered some tools to go.
So she conquered it-
Or so she thought.
When she returned,
She could not hide any longer.
The girl thought there was nothing left to conquer.
She killed herself in frantic desperation;
She chose the cliff as her spot of resignation.
The very thing she supposedly reigned over,
Now had precedence moreover.
So it conquered her-
Or so we think.
There was one thing left to conquer;
It was herself.
If a person tries to hide,
Then it is impossible to hide;
If a person tries to conquer,
He is hiding-
Or so we think.
Knowledge is an island.
The unknown is the sea.
When the island grows,
So does the sea.
Sitting high on the edge of the Earth,
Searching for a corporeal dream,
I gaze down on impending waves
As they wreak havoc on the shore.
My path has all but disappeared,
All footsteps vanquished by nature's wrath.
I stare into my inner void
And see my own mortality.
Transendental illusions fade away with ignorance,
Dreams and hopes diverge from actuality
New wakefulness paralyzes my soul
And a growing fear dares me to care.
I stand on the verge of nothingness
With only a step between being and reality
My own thoughts are working against me.
Do I save myself from truth, by admitting the purpose of self?
Do I call to the powers of grace for suppositious guidance?
Or do I accept the burden of my fears and live a life unoccupied by
happiness?
Enlightenment creates such a suffering child, evolution's cost.
She sat across from him on their daily commute.
He watched her reading a book by Dickens.
She was sophisticated, yet modest, her every bone conveyed intelligence.
Her hair was a bit messy, her glasses were on the tip of her delicate nose.
The pages of her book: wrinkled, dog-eared, and worn.
A run in her hose showed the true ivory of her crossed legs
Admiring her for weeks, he hoped to catch her eye.
She ran her fingers through her hair and raised her head.
Their eyes met, hers flashing of sapphire, her lips, parting into a
smile.
Her smile revealed opalescent teeth, a row of glistening ivory.
The change in facial disposition did not destroy her holiness.
He smiled back; he could not stop thinking of her in a wedding dress.
The picture would not leave his mind.
Lifting the veil to see her face wearing the same expression.
Over and over again, their eyes still locked.
They nearly jumped as her book fell out of her hand and struck the floor.
She began to reach for it, but he quickly bent down.
He picked up her book and raised his head to notice she was gone.
She was sitting next to him.
He turned to her
Their eyes met
She put a slender hand in his.
She spoke:
"So what's your name?"
It isn't your hair, how you look or even how you talk
It's how you feel, how you see
through the black world between us.
Isn't your name, your last name or even your family's one,
It's how you call yourself and others
in the city of defs.
Isn't the melody, or even the lyrics,
are those words who can change my entire life.
Isn't your body or even the face
It's the structure of you,
who can support all the weight of the world
without a help.
But, Can ya' realize it??
My pretty blue eyes, I'm falling in love with you...
Isn't who are you or even who are them,
It's YOU!.
Without your love, I'm cryin' all this tears,
Without your love, I'm feelin' all this fears,
Without your love, I'm livin' soul-less,
Without your love, guess I'm faithless.
All those words than I can't say with my lips,
all those kisses than I can't give in your hands,
even because you're near but far,
are gettin' down as I can't get up stand.
Even the walls can't touch me as I touch you
all the sounds you can't hear
but all the love songs I can sing
will stand forever in my tears.
March 12 1998.
For Alejandro Garza, who is so close and far away.
All alone in this world of mine
no where to go no where to hide
All alone in my own little trove.
how many sorrows can one person hold
When you look at me...
you only see what you want to see,
Nobody cares who I am...
nobody cares about the real me...
I feel like I'm outside looking in ...
I'm in my own world and yet...I'm a stranger.
My world and surroundings are being destroyed
my life is crumbling to peices and yet...
I'm still all alone in my own little world.
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