A soft compression to the chest
Marinates the muscles of the breast
Of flesh and blood hearts are brazen
Flush of oxytocin--abrazan.

O tender heart that teeth console
Stab a fork and set it free
Savor the faint beat of dole
Soak in spirits--purity.

Return, the warmth lingering,
This conductor's menagerie
Into the grounding state again
For a woman to hold is dame.

Look here,
"What's your major?"
What's that got to do with me,
Much less petty.

I'd like to start a trend
(sure why not everyone)
To reply to this friend-
ly under-toned question:

"Get to know me first
and find out for yourself".
One Little Outburst,
Yet...

Laden with the unimaginable
never-ending, tortuous self-criticism
(Okay maybe not for everyone,
But it sure is asked to the infinite brim)

Such a question should be offending,
Even if one really is deeply involved,
A person cannot be defined
Or confined to one thing.

To give credit to the inquirer
Default to the English language
Commonly used here
Which is to say this garbage:

"I know you study various topics,
but what is your focus?"
Poor inquirer rarely asks; thus,
As the respondent would rather;

"What is it you are
passionate about?"
It May Be A
Far              
                                                              
C­ry
For the inquirer
to cite some
Inductive reasoning here.

Oh! The respondent is
(Emotionally defensive)
Suspicion of someone who majors in
Something that is not practical.

This cannot be the case,
Especially with the nerve,
For it is not known
What people gown

Discriminatory in nature,
To ask and to reply,
Results in a label or a lie...
Fermented questions mature.

Now we mustn't run around questions;
Answers must stand and must move on.
In writing we have the privilege of inspection
We do not in speaking.

The question is a contraction--
Heuristic--or
Lasting impression of post-industrialism:
Simplify collectivism!

Prefers the blunt conversations
From points A to B;
Linear  
Mathematics.

"True" or "False" prefers
Complexities to be imagined;
Respectively refers
Anthropomorphically confined.

Prefers the contractions simply
It flows out of the mouth.
Practical of common wealth
This person is not hardly.

Prefers this heuristically;
The pragmatician short cuts.
Anxiety becomes too much
To express oneself truly.

Enough character of inquirer,
Discrimination is offensive.
Most students by default of most schools
Study various topics; in which is called

"Breadth requirements",
Should also be re-termed as
"Breadth opportunities".
Life: an example of experiences.

Study has no differentiation; 
What is lived is learned.
But why the separation?
Opposing ends, family and education.

Not for long, and
Not for everyone;
What learned is lived, and
Which lived hammered nails for shelter. However,

Though we may want and try to be experts,
Every field must settle for mediocrity.
Every person must make decisions
Of time and money, indeed.

There is truth to every major, like a stem cell
Mitosing daughters--any cell and of itself;
**** sapiens study
Human tools.

Hard or soft;
Art or science;
Weeds or grass,
Fruits or vegetables;

Right or wrong
We test the theorem.
So now can you
Guess my major?

The highest spectral sensitivity,
Where solar radiation is strongest;
Fifth ninety nan-ometers--the color yellow.
All along my favorite color,
The most sensitive of all.

I have all the characteristics of a writer,
But I chose science and science fails
As it often does so that it prevails.
So I am met with choices once again
As is Life as is Time
Pick your stock and let it climb,
But as is Life as is Time
Finds oneself without a dime.

Time spent writing is Time lost
Into the deep sea of white and black
As the world becomes ever digital
It forgets what matters it lacks
So needs someone whose life is small
Where Time spent writing is Time created
Because a lesson learned is a
Lesson evaded.

But not one stops to ask
What Time is Time degraded?
Not one questions the grand investment
That Time spent is Time earned
Wherein Time earned is Time enchanted
But unlike earning dollars to be burned
The treasures amassed is infinite
& How lovely for you to be in it!

Discontentment always be
knock, knock, knock!
On thoracic diaphragm.
All cavities get filled
with emptiness and the brain
It sees this anomaly, does its great job:
"Fill the emptiness!";
Ironically keeping to the heart's shadow.

The blind leading the blind,
blood is boiling up inside.
Voices keep repeating
Same old eulogy
Attendees deserted the ceremony
Muscles convulse
One last waking breathe
"Wake up!"

As if this some dream before
The the soul floats above, observing life.
The tangibleness of time:
<Fear>
              <sadness>
<anger>                  <surprise>
<happiness>          
                        <disgust>; now reprise.

"Take this drug for medicinal purposes."
$Paralyze
               $Numb
                          $Tranquilize
               $Dumb
$Petrified
               $Stump
"Why don't you wake up?!"

One loud shrieking gasp
Ooh-aah!
Heavy pants
Agh
                           Agh
            Agh
"That was a close one..."
The dark matter shifted away.

The brain followed its cue;
What was the discontentment?
It hasn't got a clue.
"I only want more"
Said the voices in the brain
"Of life, that is"

I just want to peak
Out from underneath the sand
Until it all becomes too much.
I just want to crawl
Underneath and slither away.
There are no cowards, but curious.
Interest, for lack of knowing,
Peaked and it too does want to
bury; the Earth is embracing
And comfortable.
Life's lowest living creatures
--On occasion--swallow whole
The so-called higher order;
that Earth is not so embracing.
Swallow, shed, swallow, shed
Away vulgarity.
Everytime becoming difficult
To hide away, for some reason
Above ground is fascinated
With larger things in life and I
Too put it in its place.
I know because I respect myself
Enough to not get caught in a prison
Zoo or on someone's shoes;
Would you?
Hisssssssthh...

A dying gasp
A teary sigh
Breathe at last
An unquiet mind

A choking breathe
A hostile inhale
Note to self
Do not tell

A fiery chest
A sour brain
I must protest
My critic's vein

A raw relaxation
A seasoned respiration
Home at last
Analytical through trepidation