Inhabiting Sorrow

Underneath the anger, there are tears. Beneath the fury, there is hurt, a river

of affliction - the day that possibility evaporated. I knew, the moment

it was gone. Telos obscured, like a mist, had left me.

Frost in February, morning at the local coffee house, perseverating, sedate

in privatized, cogitations - certainty dissolves into irony, the transient

collective with predictable cadence and singular objective. Borrowed

energies - preferred anesthetic in defiance of the placid, quotidian horror.

Angst wrapped in skin, clothed in remorse, like a muslin coat unable
to keep me warm, the palette of truculence, dislocated savant,
with guarded aversion - faces enucleating in tacit harmony, the muted tragedy -

of the forgotten.

Yoked, the metaphorical satchel, freighted with the sentient debris, sifting

the fuckage, memoirs of failure, privation of venture and honor, objectified as

mere portent. [Existence] - the daily riot, becomes the necessary crucible.

Dissonance and detachment resonate the cultural banality, [being] displaced by

icon; [branding], ideas about ideas, life several times removed,

emblem over essence.

Existential renegade, exploiting the counter intuitive, the paradigmatic prodigal,
favor squandered, in the absonant passage, bearing fruit of the undone.

Bones of contention lament, interminably, like a false friend, present in absence,

perceived in the lack, subtraction, slip-stream - the disheveled
palaver of the broken.

Acutely self-referential, misery enfleshed, its own reward, a post-war
discontent inhabiting sorrow, compressed and narrow, begetting
apathy in springtime.

Commodity of youth, the currency of beauty - permuted, commerce of the
ethereal and diaphanous. Human caprice, post-modern fog,
the flattened self,
the enemy of us is us, drowning in a decorum of narcissism.
the fattened calf,
immolating on the sword of autonomy.

Recycled grief, a recursive loop of gestating thoughts, marinating fluidly
within the interpretive grid. Confessional cyber community - exposed wounds

and concrete suffering, abstracted from virtual solidarity, refracted through a

reductive sentimentality, maybe they will ‘like’ it.

Iconoclast in exile, inhaling the incense of barrenness, surrounded by synoptic 

drivel in understaded - present tenses - alight in the now, axial axioms of the privileged,
who genuflect to the god of unfettered freedom.

Peripatetic intervals of isolation, self-imposed, hidden in a sanctuary of
derision, colliding with immutable otherness , the waters of chaos- calm.The

proleptic display, announcing eschatology. An ancient text written on the interior
expressed in myth and narrative the courier. The carnal and cerebral

arise, rightly flourishing. 

Sense thresholds stirring, surprise and turbulence, reverberations of altered

domains merging - the temporal and ubiquity, the indissolubly resplendent

inversion - the invisible made visible. Opaque intrigues subsumed into the

balm of reconciliation - the first shall be last…

©2012 W.S. Warner