Somber night aura envelops the city streets,
Perfect silence the atmosphere entreats.
Contained within a pod (of electricity)
Is: the fifth symphony of Tchaikovsky.
Among the quietude (the reticent evening air)
Two ears hear tones, the stare: an empty tare.
Still, together: mental and musical wrapping
(The thoughts and instrumental overlapping)
Weighs out to a mass of incalculable gravity;
And it is this sense which alters the streetlamp
Illuminated, soft mist embraced locality.
The dull environment – once (still) mildly damp;
Is now saturated, with vivacious, lively undertones.
The landscape, is impregnated by a mystical dew;
And while thoughts sleep in compartment homes,
Nature and the nature of man – once seen as two…
…For this moment, are united in a single melody;
A combination of reality, fantasy, and rhapsody.
Like, graphite and paper in joyful prosody;
Like, light and shadow intertwined;
Shades of sophistry, grades of philosophy;
Both truth and fiction are combined,
The very existence is re-defined.
The silence – both a myth and fact,
Contradictions in a momentary pact.
The silence – is sound, an equinox;
Together both a sort of paradox.
The vision drifts and wanders,
In the levels of depth perception;
The consciousness wonders:
Is this existence, true conception,
Or just another sensory deception?
…This moment fades
away;
Then, returns the
next day…
Thoughts about the joys foregone for perfection,
That race without a true finish;
There, the further you move in the proper direction,
The more you see the goal diminish.
Strange – the way, the more you comprehend,
It seems the less you actually understand.
Strange – a definite start, and indefinite end;
An indistinct takeoff, nowhere distinct to land.
It becomes more difficult to enjoy each new advance,
As more subtle distinctions appear in each occurrence.
When even the most complex calculation of scientific
notation;
Is a measure – not specific, an estimation, and an approximation.
When a single definition is: found to contain
A multitude, a myriad, of different entries;
And what (at first) seemed simple and plain,
Is replaced with a variety of varying complexities.
Small actions are extended beyond the initial scope,
Like devices that break boundaries poetry in or trope.
This post – dramatic, not depressed;
This life – relaxed, and also stressed.
The heart – emotional,
The reason – logical,
Evidence – empirical,
Order – strategical.
Though, the stanzas roam the sidewalk of the sheet
(Muttering to themselves, madness in the street);
Beneath the disconcerted chatter,
(The loose associations
The distant relations)
There is structure, form, and matter.
The lines, when transposed sideways;
Pulses, pulsating on a cardiac monitor.
The shifting needle point never stays,
Rising and falling on the speedometer.
At first glance, the readings may be misread as vanity or insanity;
But, given a second chance, they reveal a methodical
strategy.
Composed By: A. D.
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