Suggestive Subconscious

constantly evolving
the thrill of seeking subsides
and i can finally rest my mind
inside

got it backwards this time

always shinin'
never rhymin'
contemplations
delusions from the inside

handwriting for days
my hand throbs
quiet contemplations of better times
better rhymes, better insides

truly, my insides are gullible
sanity, my sanctity subsides
an ephemeral vessle, this time
craziness lurcking over on aisle 3

Least expected.
Dead directives.
Contemplations.
time-rhymin'

so...
verily, verily, i say unto thee
a peace that passeth understanding
not mutually exclusive

what is not saught is rarely found

Writing with pencil — seems good to me
writing with whatever— pressure sensitivity
the devil's in teh details, they say
therefore, the Angels are in the rhymes

thinner writing — contemplating the meaning of it all
the pleasure, the toil, the mercy of the fall

subconcious communications — stifled by pride
...or simply getting older...
or antipsychotic medications, making me complacently
reciting old dreams and visions into a tablet computer

the love begins to fade
to black
the rhyme is gone, can't get it back
to love

rhythm on, regardless — your song is yet to be struck!
to light

a chord of blissful delight, to signal
to end.