SUMMER
Summer, it's the time of the Pleiadians
that wreak havoc on our minds
they stretch confusion, and weave into a crass frame,
that clicks, steams and
there's spurns of logic...
that isn't from any human mind
The meek enter a new dragon,
confrontation, and the ******* dressed women...
subdue all thoughts,
that abstinence is divine
As summer song,
and any breeze that souls touch
like lavender mooring to the original stem
then to the roots,
a distance and freedom for each blossom -
acclaim and scents of haven, heated, heaven
But alone the hot airs and sky, wind, gradate, simmer then
toss the very thoughts that had cast our hope full plot
and destitute are as within the aesthetic
visions that lay before thee
Belittled without a serenity, with no holistic bounty,
from the scientific worldly charms;
a soul is lost on the burning, egg frying pavements
of our confounded time
But in step a shadowy dirge,
of the supposed renowned procrastinates
so little that the fury of chains, faiths and inners
of thought, made for intrinsic inculcations,
maybe for a Summer triste forthright is that which can emerge.