Oceanic Trenches

Communicating like an ocean

The waves, the reefs, the legions of beautiful and

Monstrous fins

Flaring and festooning in the light and the darkness

Shadows of heat and coolness shifting like currents

Below the surface are for the preponderance predictable

But as with all seasons vary to burst through into the playful

And the necessary pressure release

Witnessing the contents of the waters all at once

Quite frequently so that what occurred in as many years ago

Sways back into the perspective of the present

As emotions are painted as Van Gogh oil upon sentiments

Scripts of totality so that what one may sequester in vaults of time

Are utilized like tools of interpreting the universe of mass stimuli

Impacting my planet daily so that nothing is much lost or deemed flotsam

Even that which pierced like the spindle’s needle fostering coping slumber

The darkest forests are rooted into a mobile progressive strength

Like a taxi for a drunkard or a noose set back to the trunk in lieu of suicide

Decisions of perseverance are better recognized in the parallel rather than the period

That others have seen the absence of the sun’s reflection on moon

Praying for dawn and feeling the hours stretching like busted sinew

Irreparable bodies stung into latent taffy for buzzard tapas

Waiting for oblivion like a candle stick’s last drip, wick flopped limp and crisp

One peers into the fortitude to reassemble

Recognizing the atomic convergence of where one ends or rather than there is none

Perceived to be but this or to be but a congregation capable of dancing on Saturn’s rings

An ice samba in a reformed ocean in a place never envisioned

Until one had the audacity to do something novel and so exit the maze of thought

To see the oceanic trenches, the quagmire bosques, the corners of floors and walls

Staring up for a light, a direction and so most may not say or speak or leak

I have written my step-stones like flares and breadcrumbs in poetry and rants

Shame and acceptance, breathing and dreaming, and so with the exhale

This journey comes out in swirls to see a man in full

Who may speak of tales from the depths more freely than most

Because the disclosure of the written world has broken such reservations times before

So is a human accepting in love with his place in the universe