The Study
6/6/03

I am circumambient of comtemplation,

I am a stall of stillness;

I am not a whisper.

While most properties are peopled,

I am peaceful and placed

apart from unlimited proportions.

Nothing is known to me outside

of where I'm poised; the world's relations

are not akin to me.

There is a natural neutrality of nothingness,

then cavalcades of blurs to form iridescent worlds

that swim smoothly into vivid magnificence imagined.

What continues is all soft and rich,

with strict gentleness that abides

only through the invention of the senses.

I cry by heart.

Never proof from my eyes.

Suffering though quiet certainly mortifies.

I am a world in a cave, a place in the woods,

a distant spot in a park;

the library.

It is necessary to be the subject

of solace; solitaire allows too many.

Tune out a crack stalling to crumble.

Dare to wish a longing to replenish,

visualize that dream permitted,

The deep space, never intricate.

I'm in the position to listen for spring winds.

Perhaps I am a cloud, perhaps Zen.

It's my golden autism.

© 2003 Jarrod C. Lacy

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Express Your Realness

January 5-6, 2008

It's a "b" now.

A "c" is just unacceptable.

Your road should be

crunched with pebbles,

An easier walk.

Do this for the greater rock.

It's your genesis, the baby

baubles before true gems.

Try to enjoy your struggle, and flub your view of brighter

spectacles that should cause you to rest later.

It's much too soon to stop and look.

Retain the hue of green on few experiences, not for a

quest for early visions, for those discoveries skew

hearts, impound spirits, in as much as those gifts

that aren't attained quickly, though you feel you

deserve them now to be impressive.

The greater your engine that stride marks your appreciation

of the ride.

An "a" has approached your knowledge.

With that, your place beyond any college,

but don't be foolish to submit a creed of completion.

This is not logic.

Sure, there are occassions when redundancy is plenty -

refuse all repeats - and moments when skids pile, with

adjustments planned all the while, where geniuses are

refused, some considered avant-garde; there is always

a speck of a sparkle that avails with the greeting of guides

guarding gates of all goals gathered, those grants

for gold.

Hinder raw force that clenches fear of choice.

Don't school in the blanks of inefficiency.

Love attaches to the law of your course.

Human, but with limits in deficiency.

© 2008 Jarrod C. Lacy