Week 9: Mysterious human riches

30 Jan



I brush my fingers with my lips

Or perhaps I lip my brushes with my fingers.

No, no,

I sweep my mouth’s exterior with my guitar wielding human riches.


I do it so to feel the feel

Of skin on skin

And brush on brush.

I make a painting,

But of tactile emotions.


My heart explores possibilities

Of verses born from thought wielding human riches.

Of course,

I wind up rather discouraged..

For all the lush and mysterious ways

Of describing our feelings

And outbursts.

The ways of the great ones,

A pleasure to read,

They’re all a little silly, a little too divinely inclined,

When you think of the cold hard reasoning we now know to be true.

‘I yearn for more serotonin, so I hath written this love song for you,

‘I’d love some more ecstasy, because my brain

Is none other

Than me, the main pain.’

The wayward, unknowable

Ways of our pesky little soul,

Always wanting more yummy gratification,

Simply insatiable,

Has today become very knowable.

(Noble? Not truly)

Boundless still, but knowable.

So where does wikipedia leave mystery?

But in a lonely definition entry.

Oh, Blaga, you’d be so discouraged too.


Science is poetry in motion,

So why despair?

Rejoice, poetic gonna-bes, rejoice.

And I’ll rejoice with you

Over internet memes, crumpets and spices.



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