Constant confrontation takes place in his cognition;
An endless engagement to determine the exhibition.
While sitting in place, deciding each choice;
Many feet pace, and disapprove without a voice.
Critics, who are busy following their dreams,
So dedicated and focused on each goal;
That, from their passing position it seems:
There is little labor, or conflict, in his soul.
In the same way, his observation presumes
To: understand each (potentially) disdainful look,
In the multitude – The multitude also assumes
The content, based on the cover of the book.
For all that’s seen written, twice is (unseen and) read –
Theories, calculation, and facts;
Data spiraling, on circular train tracks,
(Making multiple loops on routes) through his head.
The creative sources, and imaginations’ courses, are
colliding.
Sciences like chemistry, and biology;
Separately blending – simultaneously sub-dividing.
Philosophies, theologies, and psychology;
Separating, cross-contaminating, and re-combining.
Our history, our astronomy, and our poetry;
Compose - just the surface of the internal equations
(Mental mathematics – abstractions in the calcinations).
A jack of many trades,
A master of only one;
A hand of aces and spades,
Shooting the moon, under the sun.
Inside – mad laughter, as others sneer at the seated (as he`s
playing a game).
Each day repeating the same – not for riches, or personal
fame;
But, because the desire and passion… (coursing through each
vein,
Within the tumultuous mien) …is to express verbal beauty and
poetic rein.
Composed By: A.D.
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