War is the javelin piercing the troubled heartbeats.
The thorn across the mind that ensnares the spirit.
The body is the war; our bodies are the jungle, humanity frolics through the Jungles of War and Ambition.
Ambition fuels rage, passion, lust, temptation.
Ambition is what created America. Ambition creates everything…
But ambition creates destruction. The same people who built the great settlement designed to ensure this breathing man’s freedom, made the same atomic bomb rendered forth to destroy it all.
Our arms like trees rise and fall with our heartbeats.
Our limbs like trunks root and uproot.
Our heads like the clouds swing thoughts, like the frozen cirrus clouds; cold and warmed by the breathing sun.
Shadowed, or embraced by rain.
Rain slumbers in the midst of this man’s fellow mind.
Is it a flood of passion come forth to tremble the light?
The ear is the metronome of flesh for the sound and caverns; this fellow-man’s skull’s interior is equal to the endless caverns the mind wanders through.
Do we serve as our own phantom? Do we play a haunt unto our own bodies–
Are we ghosts inside our own bodies; Do we possess ourselves?
Or does society string us along?
Do we awaken ourselves into the air of our wanting drives?
In the sunflower fields of light, does this fellow man derive.
The nose is the great pillar of us all; embracing the air we thrive.
My eyes the seeing pedestal unto all this fellow of one and many;
humanity in an overture. The chessboard of fate is right there, in us all;
the body is the war; in where lone politicians or perhaps many of the like, search high and lo for Liberty’s Bell.
My fellow good man, our heartbeats play a host to the very ribcage of Liberty’s cell.
Copyright April 18, 2019