whenever I hear
Scarlatti’s “per la nativia di G.C.”
it brings tears to my eyes

must be the frequencies
of sounds and voice
that conspire
to touch a source of my being
of which I know not

embodying a loving harmony
I have been longing for
without knowing

simply beautiful

The room is yellow, the air we breathe is gold
The light we see and cannot see is present

The yellow rays, tricky as they are
flicker and linger for minutes until they light somebody else’s room

Electricity from the hanging lines connect our building to the earth
as buzzing, beaming, cellophane wrapped watts light our stucco sky

The light our eyes can see is bright, blinding us in brevity
Illumination from the inside out, the light of our minds

Emitting rays from the dreamlands in our heads, so aware
light escaping out of our skin and our hair

Our minds light up the room with gold
Our minds flutter and grace the the pages and spaces below

The power lines could fall, the shades could be drawn
and still this room would consume, illuminate. The golden hour waits.

The relentless education machine
***** in working class heroes
and churns our middle-class drones.
How willingly they fall in line
to register for that course,
unaware that getting an 'A'
in conformity leads directly
to an 'F' in satisfaction
and a life on the treadmill
to emptiness or nowhere at all.
Become a contrarian anarchist!
Jump off while there's still time.
Run for your life while you
still have one and it's still yours.

Hate what’s mediocre and banal too.
Despise them both and take the two to task.
Their infection consumes flight of fancy,
Hidden behind a bland and facile mask.

Please write your tale to help disarm the pair.
Together we can speed up their demise.
Although there are greater forces at work,
Much more than most, the same do they despise.

It is still so, but the hatred makes way,
For the flight of our thoughts, thus creating,
Works of beauty; wondrous to minds of men.
What’s hated, in truth is sublimating.

The platitude “Thinking outside the box”,
A phrase by those whom ignorantly use,
Lead astray by these bland meaningless masks,
Fall short of honing tools with which to prove.

To begin with, there is a strong feeling,
An analogy in a nutshell which,
Is presented to aid understanding,
Curtailing a cerebral glitch.

Then a comparison to the flip side,
Passionately pervading all angles,
Adding anticipation and power to,
The carroty denouement that dangles.