Monday, 10 December 2012

Ma 'Ong Wa

A symmetric pattern
Combed hair and facial expressions
Single sided mind matters
In lakes and snow draped eyesight
Its my tastebuds
The anticipation of a light feeling
Reeling from castigation
Menstruation of language repetition 
I see you, map of life
You are hungry for my future
So what is not yet to come?
Is it imperative to feel tense
About something caused by perfection
Scales and dance steps
My ripe fingers claw keystroke patterns
Originality
Deconstruct
I am the diver, doven over and sewed up
So my side is wishful and hopeful
I am indebted with movement
And as my body breaks down
I crawl back to my chair
I will never walk again
My feet will only brush the ground
My morality works against material
I hope you know that we are each to our own
And extremes are extreme
It is true when he said ‘middle way’;
So each to their own we shall go
It is this medium that makes me shake
I am a ritual dancer
Without money
But in that old console
Dreams fulfilled
Day to day
This is my strange path
But it isn’t yours
So you were right all along!
You are growing indirectly
Endowed with knowledge
Not wise yet
Don’t save too much
Don’t work too hard
Don’t look back
We are middle class
Balanced.

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