by definition, a poem

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smooth as cream,

mellow mood junkies

in an atmosphere

of serene escapes,

......I'm drifting away

moved by a musical

serenade of motion

no caution made,

::high::

on waves of cotton comfort,

my toes: curled

in a tangle of euphoria,

the sensation,

rose and fell

in the swell, of my breathing,

my mind, intent

on topics,

of expression, and intellect

the poetic subject,

(was infinity)

such is the content

that i gather, shape, and change,

from a scattered element of perceptions,

i formulate theory,

i interpret with epiphany,

and solidify judgment

i cast aside, and abandon

any wrongful prejudice,

by definition:

human nature is actually habit

what purpose do our marvels serve?,

but to capture envy and

sponsor our aspirations, further

more,

conscious.

(note to my readers: those, mystified,

in child like enchantment,

my gaze and views must remind you of wonders

as hard as you're staring)

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Morphia Patrikas's picture

i love this poem, it makes me feel...understood..haha