In love with life and all of its foibles.
How could I have So deeply adored Such a flawed human Your actions; no compass To set my course by Many disreputable choices you made
By Aspen Marie 8 months ago in Poets
Feelings are not facts A mantra worth repeating Heart will attempt to sell you All manner of wild tales To suit its deep desires
Argentine tango is a seductive tool Transfiguring desire into sequential steps Cuadrado pattern repeated Until performed without thought
A walking X-ray machine Certified PhD Confidently putting my finger On the fracture Clear as day Their posture, their words
Urban scoundrels engaged In silent skulking Upon twilight’s rising They hunt for mice Determined leaps Diving into tall grass
I recommend you play with clay Malleable and wobbling It may take any form you wish With enough skill and practice Wounded people are living sculptures
Reality no longer required Filters and masks Gladly revise uniqueness Into pigeon-hole ideals My work is no longer complete
Every morning Bashir patrols our yard For his morning constitution His tuxedo sidekick, an amusing guard Unique in her locution
Real rain is falling now The first sheer curtain Of the season Though greenery is vibrant Earth is already parched Her tongue panting for
Self-serving bias Drives our motivations Do I believe I have improved Am I smarter than others More talented Assume good things will happen to me
The mothers I know and love Have reworked their past selves Into new models Handy mechanics with a wrench No time on their calloused hands
Sparse neural coding offers this Each neuron connected in small clusters Limitless possibilities of patterns Combine into memories and knowledge
