The Shaktic Yonied con-i-cative chronicle Receptive magical majesty Why do I insist to refuse the image Which given to all for a being I must, I must. but lust for sustenance Greed gleamed gem, imaginative benefits Illustrious acceptances held in receptacles Analogous referrals for smarmy mastication She: What a Be. The present of this presence Shaking her out, letting go of these pretense And obligative fashions Of latching ons, to momentary ideals Peeling them down, because permanence is the illusion
The banana tastes better without the Denial Whittling woodwork The sawdust agrees We push, we push forth.. Hesitant to be forceful Yet sometimes that's the force in it's own manifestation When's the plan the being, and the being the plan? Over exhausting contemplative complications Isn't just a bean plant To eat the seed And relish in her nourishment But that want can be that active fault-line Tectonically rupturing this productive structure Impatience of the anticipating ambition Crumbling foundation of her imaged experience
Perception is the adversary of all this malarkey Projecting the doubt filter on how perceiving this reality Realization of creation, the constant remembrance to strive What's the precidence and where's my mind to?