Expand your reach.
This is not your due.
Beggars can’t be choosers
even if they’re paupers by choice.
Everything is by choice.
You did it to yourself…
Reneging on so much previous resolve.
Build it again, for what?
I don’t even need it.
I have other things to attend to.
Will my nonchalance offend you?
My heavy regard was insufficient.
Today proves much.
Too much to no avail.
How dare I bite the tongue that feeds me?
How dare I trade purpose for vassalage?
Is there more to this than stifled rage?
Am I petulant?
I am not a pet.
Out from the dust.
Ash or whatever…
Catch them all… unawares.
Yet I’m in tears.
Despite logic and justifications.
I am in tears.
They give lie to all I would let burst forth
peppered with expletives and brashness.
They give truth a chance as they wash all else from view
and find my mood matchless.
And just so all is clarity.
I want what I need…
a match for my fire.
Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion.
Thank you. I think. I will.
Look how it turns out.
Yet the jewels say what’s real.
That is just like saying
I’m not fooling… anyone.
I do not care how gullible.
The victor doesn’t have to victimize to rise.
Altruism – Crystallized all ways true.
Pry per pi and phi.
Slain- resulting from psychic poison.
This world and that world-
layered one upon the other.
Hand in hand—
Scenes clear- clarity unimpaired
by desired destinies that make disappointment
of the divinely appointed.
I have been built by intuition,
humbled by former positions,
misdiagnosed by pseudo-physicians.
Something is lost in translation.
Something is gained in translation.
The essence remains in origin.
My essence retains conscious collagen.
I lay in the akashic sea.
I fetal float.
I become conduit.
I don’t allow hubris to ruin it.
Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion
Pages upon pages archived and gatherered where no light is shed. Why? Express exemplary… Free these pennings from ego, bluster, or stymieing stifling. No! Balanced and level! Long range rifling… Close doors and windows. Open the skylight. Hope that I rise is not the same as mustering my prana and marshalling my grammar and abiding in my center watching chaos spin fractal webs of outcome, desire, regret and victory smokes. The tapestry of this section of life… Beyond editing… Appreciate all aspects. The story is riveting. More than just a culmination of genes or assignment to teams… This is cleanable slate. This The Force meets tabula rasa. The kid could go all the way. Or has he already? Time will tell. Rat or rate? Reitirate. Will you stay true? Will you relate or will you seek control? The illusion of security precludes the purity that is free to say, “I don’t know.”