Inflection,... If you dont have it, Don't read it

Do you even understand the concept of inflection?
So very tarried is the thought, that you might not
When you read it right, it can be like and infection
(The voice of poetry shall have No Choice)
the rhythm is the tool, the rise and fall, the toolbox,the voice.
That silken instrument giving life to an inspiration,
The very point of this subjugation,
the requiem of this monotation,
such is self activation,
of life's palpitation in me...
or you. It can be read as red,green or blue,
Changing the Color or just a subtle hue.
The root is deemed the conception;
Perdition with an erection;
this can be said with obvious affection.
Go mad, sad, Happy with the unsolaced, waning, detection.
But if you read it aloud and seeming a coward is NOT your direction
For our sake AND your's, read with INFLECTION.

Spirit Alive

4am again...
You'd think I would be used to it by now,
living my best at dark-side's light....
Truth is, I AM used to it,
maybe a little too used to it.
It helps me see things I cant see in the day,
a kind of emotional infrared.

I have lost my way,
I wish to find it.
I need to pick up where I left off;
so far off. In a zone,
fresh reality. A love driven zone:
self preservation, humility, ironical ego.
I must drop this cloaked pride, whilst in the presence
of those who cannot, or choose not, to recognize.
I will take flight, back to the tremoring life
from which I originally lept,
wept from. My true bounty,
courage of conviction, I have soared upon it;
now, after falling from my blazing skyward path,
crashing down to the cold welcoming ground,
I have seen again and again, all it is
I am fighting for....

It has been a less than valiant victory
towards my own freedom of the tide
that binds us, all together in our persevering relevance.
Some can, perhaps, afford to be reluctant; I have been gone,
on this woopsie-daisy feildtrip a nye too long.
My voice is too loud, eyes are too open, ears know no fear;
most of all my passions are ever ardent and fierce.
My ascension has been a wrecking ball
in this chain reaction, defeat is no option.
Taught myself to swim early,
so I wouldn't drown when it all comes down.
Elusive enigma of why I even question myself...
How has complacency weaved it's gnarly vine around me?
Since when do I settle for anything less
than what I can grow from myself?
I refuse to be a prisoner of my own devices. Breaking free
from these self-compromising tides, these breached patterns,
so willfully exempt of normalcy.

My mental machete,
shinier, sharper,
than when the ideal in mind can grow
from its power to shed the unwanted, the unneeded, unhealthy weeds
in life's gargantuan garden! Spare me the etiquette trip
when I say whats on everyone else's mind,
don't be surprised if I turn around
then put your burning torches out
in succession. Karma's divine symmetry is no less
than every god's miracle through life.
To be a tool of light in it's wake, is truly a phenomenal oxygen.
It keeps me evolving as a healer, a true child in a world,
this same world, where most think they are the "adults" in charge.
I say, let them dream such foolish, ego-filled, assumptive
dreams, are true. All things are realized in time.
Time... just another dream humans share an interest in controlling.
More on that subjection later.
"LATER"; some shake their heads in chuckle.
Dreams, whether real or not,
keep living people living, and sleeping people sleeping.
The value of a dream, can scarcely be given justice in this language.
Hold tight, to whatever illusions
keep you strong, for we haven't long,
before we all SEE....
My path has not abandoned me,
and so I am barefoot and running towards it.
No shortcut needed, I am already here.
I can hear my dreams' footsteps padding just ahead;
they are running, laughing, giving chase to a fearless game of tag,
A rough and tumble game,Where I AM eternally, ethereally, IT.