I would (if I were good) enwrap me in hermetic prayer

Ne'er need a feed, an audience to lead proceed nowhere

But shut contented locked away hidden from all the world

Define myself by finding founding in the Word

Enough

But hero ego bristles sending sound-calls out to me

To correspondent sympathetics, neighbouring in degree,

And see, I love it, it's habitual serial vanity

By mine own pelf a shiny thing's enchanted

A glittering reflection turned once here, then there, within my mind

Somehow I'm not the slurry of the run of humankind...

I gush

Here is the crisis of a struggle, here's the heavy tug

The rug beneath it will not come, it's one of special worth

Except it's not; just gravity of earth

Of course that force which pushes down adores the lowdown dirt

Its natural attraction is like a glimpse of having power

One wants, that is, one lacks it, and can settle for no less

So lust and will continue thus to simply pass the hat

Become busker, beggar, don't know which, a quest forever

Attempting to be someone

If I were sweet St Francis or some other holy brother

Of lesser salve to my self-love then I might learn to weather

No sops, no props; go solo, backed by only holy God

On drums or bass guitar, - or mandolin? - ha-ha, that's odd!

Ah, here I go again, my rebel brain will ripple, preen

My gut will strut, my sighs out-thrust, make fuss, be ever seen

A must-lust primes within us, imprints as if geese

Those kisses and the dandles, that sucked pap, and made sweet teeth,

On fawning adoring others (mothers, lovers) whim betrothed:

No substance

A rogue you borrow slave affected airs, wear them a ruby necklace

A chain to show off jinking, janking, round your story’s neck

There's more goes to oneself in loving given to the other sex

A sad reflection on our core inamorato

Forbidden glee;

A rival story

A life's a turn in which to learn, and starting early

Till late, to get the proper rate true love esteems self really

This brose of thumbnail dreams and fancied fad objects

Struck with Byronic frisson

Emotion backs but only acts them as performance

Heart's tumult in the primal vortex wreaks quite different rage

Inflections, interjections, accents, stress unbidden words

Which rise, insightful-wise, unasked-for, unforeseen

And timely stamp their virtue; and no greater yet has been

Old timers' adaptation is a fake mental machine

Though superhero somebodies we all ways think we are;

Accede, give way, assay peripatea enter in your passion play

To spin you freed

The say-so, the farrago, of the frothy people stayed

The bright Imago of the world breaks out on God's parade

His true emergence adult maps your newly human phase

His Grace grist in the mixing, no more castaways in space