what the child of me never told me 4/6/16

What the child of me never told me,

so I gleaned it this far by living.

That I needed to be in love

with the Rosetta stone of other beings.

That the big picture of life is ever expansively

my ride to bring it into frame

wherever focus like that is, that draws me.

In my world, these origins are ever revealing.

From there, I make judgments as emotional stances

that have no valid life as posing statues of me in vain.

Visionary is my inner-art ever unfolding,

ever in service to a greater cause then I could have stated.

Yes I became a poker player with exceptional mirrors

into the ethers around the table of play.

I don’t care for the cards themselves

but I attend to their motion, the body heat they endure,

where and how they were held,

and how they are reflected back

into the opacity of the other players’ faces.

I can take the pulse of another at thirty paces

through their voice sent out my way.

I have binoculars attuned to the tones of their say.

I see through billboards of peoples’ projections

yet make no effort to engage with such.

I am forever in need of primal rudder-ship,

forever unfolding yet source-fully, undisclosed.

Bleacher seats filled with reality-people facing me,

are forthright but generally errant and distracting.

Ordering from the menu of life straightforwardly

only provides more questions then it answers.

I would love to know how to writhe the truth

but I have needs for organizational functioning

that as impediments, seriously gets in my way.

I use my mind as brush-ups for emotional challenges

to fresh paint from my soul.

I have delve and detachment to work for me hand in hand.

I wish for my sexuality not to be triggered

but to be free spirited as in forthcoming.

And for sensuality/sexuality to be a further truth telling.

For in my mind, I have metaphorical hammers, chisels, 

saws, knives, clamps, glues and lacquers.

But in my heart, I have visionings, deep breathing, 

evocative touch, primal as quenchables that matter,

and empathic embraces I cannot mentally justify.

I am soma to a world forthcoming

that is not fully evident to me or through me yet.

I cannot go away from this worldview

that is both haunting yet still deeply inviting.

Simplicity is a feeling state I often richly experience

as chaos is evocative and inviting  

as it comforts me with authenticity.

That which draws me, essentially drives me.

I assume the composition of that awareness

others often have but not disclosed to me in kind.

I feel I have a mind-right to know them

and wish it did not lead me into self-distractions.

For ruckus in the mind is my false livelihood,

for as long as I gross out on this world,

it seems, I have this experiential motor running.

For what the child of me never told me

has now come through as meaning this:

My goal, as learned from living,

is to atrophy the understanding

and communication of the mind

for the presence and conveyance of the heart

and to not leave anything untouched or disregarded,

towards coalescing into this blend,

then blessedly into merge . . .