Delirium of Images, Sounds, Music

there are these messages
tattooed to the neurons
that I used to believe belong to me
they are everywhere, shimmering
with the electric light of souls
some call it “chi”, we are fragments
of something coherent

vibrant and creative
there are these messages
of madness for discourse
and theater, drama, philosophy
it’s the poetry in our lives
that matters, the relationships
the discovery of new languages

like mathematics, music, mandarin
like the way a new lover can awaken us
there are these messages
I often hear, in the give-and-take
between friends, family, romantic playmates
I enter and respect the foliage
of these letters, hunt them, like writing in the sun

or drinks in the shadows
so that when I am feeling a little bit empty
I can construct and deconstruct them
the fire of my passion
the names of water
when I close my eyelids
I can see the conjurations

and remember the pauses of speech
that were in effect, murmurs of poetry
the body-language of my spirit
a fleeting allegory of truer names
labels that did not disturb
the purity and symmetry of those things and people.

art credit goes to: http://www.deviantart.com/art/A-women-scorned-Dark-99965783