amongst broken seashells...
and splintered firewood...
i pull the threads of a threadbare sweater.
as a wilted rose petal
slowly falls
to the dusty floor...
the shriek of impatience
leaves a ringing in my ears
that drowns out
the whispering voice of reason
that is aching and struggling to be heard...
why do i yearn for the time-lapse version of my life?
why is slowing down and waiting akin to agony?
i am not a perfect, slow burning candle flame...
but rather a blazing wildfire storm
kicking ash and dust into the air
as i race through forests...
consuming everything in my path.
i am not a lazerbeam.
i'm a floodflight.
:
- ...phoenix.kaivalya...
- :, Indonesia
- I do not speak my truth to antagonize you.... I share this swollen river running -- This waterfall of faith-- because it flows from me like lennon's endless rain.... --my paper cup: this poem-- to which an endless string of words spill out and on to... I stain the sentences with abundant articulations that boil inside of me... I thirst, I starve, I crave. and all that quenches... all that can satiate me is to open the faucet and allow the words to run... They skip and dance across themselves... They formulate on their way out like fireworks deciding which way they will face when they open and sizzle in the night air... And when they do... it's a sight to behold. It shocks me like the boom, and takes me aback to see what has emerged. And Keroac knew. He knew all along... that I was one. As my words explode like spiders across the sky... I watch in staggering wonder at my truth revealed and know that I am home here. I have taken my vow... signed in blood... solemnly sworn myself in... been hazed and pinky promised... and I know... without the shadow of a doubt... that I am a mad one. ...and I wouldn't have it any other way.
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