Don't waste one last drop,
the scorched earth doesn't deserve
any of that precious liquid
and even if it could
majority of the terrain
becomes jealous and angry
desperate for temporary
relief
from the gleaming sun
solace for them might come
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Easy for train of thought to derail from the railroad spikes of focused poetic intent. All of the twisted synapses in my caffeinated head send off electric currents in a massive chaotic asymmetry. It is truly an unpredictable system though it is refreshing to explore tangents. This allows creative departure. Reality is a pulsing and vibrant shifting kaleidoscope. We all have our own minds to assess these random distractions. Such as Ginsberg and the Adonis of Denver who would ingest copious amounts of benzedrine at night to attempt to translate the continuous stream of thoughts occurring every waking moment into words. They would communicate with one and other in the most blunt and truthful way possible. Beautiful nights, sharing the mutual realization of (or desire for) truth. This kind of communication does not have to be sensible. It is success when it is felt; understood on a level beyond words.
