Civil Savage

Civil Savage

Born into a wilderness of sin.
Stressed not by derelicts.

Parapets.
Pharaoh's fits.
Brazen wits

or

Dirty hits.


Contemplating upon the cob of corn.

A colonel of Kernels
All reflections...

Eternal

both

Diurnal

and

Nocturnal.



"Am I...

parody?"


Answer:

"Perhaps, if you are not your own."



From imaginist to tempest
King to Pauper

One's own is not in perception of self, but action of being.

With every reflection there is an image, but only in mirrors

and broad hallucinations.

These machinations...

of mind, self and story.

Are the burdens of pride, strength and glory.

When staring deep into your computer screen.

Monitor what is monitored

and let the rest come clean

What is your jungle but a city street,

And endless plains, when walking the beat.

Path born, path trodden.

Civil is what you are,

but the savage is not forgotten.

Accept

Granite laced visions

Of Truculent Truth

Earthborn fissures

Of violent proof

The chemistry of all that is not.

And the Alchemy of all that is distraught.

A phalanx of trees,

Hedges for pawns.

Pedicured feet

on Manicured lawns.

Bury me between the river and trees.

I wish to poison the creek

with my own seed.

And lay the foundation more solid then stone.

And have my son document the road

on his own.

An occasional shiver

An expected glare

Live for all emotion

Accept what is there