Slipping into a coma, listening only to rhythms and
melodies of artistic endeavors.
Pliable and insurgent, filing into preludes of exacting
etudes.
Glass prisms narrowing views as they rainbowly
crystalize in pearls of knowledge.
Contorting and altering avenues of realistic gestures.
Movement fluidly awakening innermost abysses of caverns
and their treasures.
Locating synoptic adjectives, describing it all in
expletives and boisterous screaming of interior motives.
(9: 24 p.m. - 12/12/08)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem