The Beams

Elevate form over function to get at less easily articulable truths.

The Beams

Postby Oughtist » Sat Nov 07, 2020 5:25 am

The Beams, a poem by Oughtist

Sides line in sliding sizes
Adjusting to the point
That now this then sure prizes
Presence gived in an' oint

Men tell it yearly aging yon
Anonymostly lives
Like creatures reading inkless non
Sensed in tooth the dyv's

Multiple plunges ever deep'd
Erroneously leaguer
Furthur than languishedly sleep'd
Eletteral intriggeur

What is not known hangs beyond mind
I wonder if it's there
Or here inside me where I find
A mirror of lightshined glare

Emergencies are flashing red
Or green as case may be
But yellow is so sudden sped
The will we drive ain't free

Determined though the mind it throws
Itself bound t'ward tomorrows
When it will it will it wil lit will
Reiterlate its joyful sorrows

What else is there to be to come
From places out of time
With rythmns winding through thun drum'
Of what one's life would mime

A smile, a wall, a parasol
And palnns against the braim
We each breathe out our aerosol
And look off, upon the sanne

So check into this life we live
And nevermind them ceilings
For nothing is above to give
But beams of borkend feelings
Things are apparent.
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