My Ineffable, (E-motion) is Beauty

The vultures of charm

Pay homage to the ghetto sunrise

These flames

That burn colors in the moments

And linger in the years to follow

Loving the trot of dogs

And the scent that motions beauty

To bear the coming light

A still march on the ghost cities

Of capital decay, drumming

Caressing some deeper reason

In the billowing palace of a gypsy soul

I’d found my ancestry

Off the shore of the eastern passing

Lost on the light’s traces

And the grips of heavy souls evaded me

I was no more to their submission

No more composed of feigning naïvety

I started to notice again

The putrid odors of chemical waste

Pervading the tasteless fashion

The engagement of consciousness

A most auspicious affair

Pass a moment of silence

For the dry depths of positivity

Having passed our contours

To some force majeure

Praying diligent to carve the motive

A corporate restructuring of the will to power

Many egos invested

In the many rivers gone out to sea

That motion is beauty

Bobbing in and out of love

The swoon of a weathering ocean

The séance of a free moving soul

Connected to the lifeworld

With a breath that escapes expression

In the staggering drifts

Of Technicolor awe

The stark solitude of the waves of crowd

Moving too fast for the moments to be smitten

And shaving the fallen hairs

That lovers leave behind

A dank spring fog hanging

Like willows to the airs

That lean over paths

Once to be covered in playful passes

Once will be wandering

In binary relapse

Posing the still we’ve been imagining

Allured by the cold machinery

Like a sure summer might

In eastern bloc

Unravel the sun in memories

Of the soul’s deepest winter

The incorporated certainty of dark days

A perennial retreat

From some crisp airborne lightness

Beckoning brute kisses out of the beauty

And I was relieved to find

That solitude was much lighter than before

That (e-motive) pain was a dream

To waltz and bear to

And lie like in illusion

The maestro of ghosted mezzanines

Crossing in the heavens

Unbearably

White collars crossing references

And mating at the dawn

Eyes to green eyes

Staving sleep to drag the resonance

My passions were destroying

’Las lest my passions lived to raze the ghost

Vienna’s fingers grip me still

There were shadows in a lover’s eyes

They were dancing on the close

Shadows waltzing beneath the mezzanines

Quite close to a towering reason

Passionately throwing all the light away

Wien’s fingers let me go

Foreign now and having executed our will

What’s to ascend in bluff with

Come the death of the modern woman?

Lightly veiled in her grounded air

Her porous dirt

Hardly covering the squander


Jason Greendyk, www.jasongreendyk.com