My dilemma

My dilemma

How do I get from me

To Ellison?

His writing

Was so tighten

In its structure.

How the hell do I reach that plateau

Without losing the academic

Prowess.

Feeling and energy of such art is my cross to bare.

Because it lies in contrary to

Academic structure.

To me the music

In literature is found in Ralph Ellison writings.

If I had been able to do anything but write

I would be a musician.

A physician of notes

That carried boats and boats

Across the river

To deliver its message upon the

Banks of the big city.

John Coltrane

These cold-trains

of thoughts

causes conniption fits

across my cerebral cortex.

I wish to lie down

in the vortex

of warm actions.

Contractions from unspoken

verbal interactions

derived from venus's

flytrap.

Can you feel the rhythm

of the night,

the nights twilight

has burned a hole

into the soles of my feet.

I keep tapping,

enjoying the flow

of fluidity from the Sex.

I mean Sax,

for it reaches to such a heights and stays there .

Worlds of Creativity Seem bigger than the Mind

Sounds of gray

move through my atmosphere,

which I fear translates into music,

but no words.

Whispers,

only of notes that leaves

its mark on my thoughts.

I bought wine in order

to translate them.

The jazz had changed my focus

I wanted to feel my space

like locusts.

And touch the clouds.

I just wanted to understand how

it feels to cry,

and fly higher than I expected.

But the words never get me there,

So now,

I spare none,

They run along this sentence

with reckless abandonment,

opposing all editors,

or judgments in general.

I am now just trying to translate

and condense onto a plate

what goes on

into the head of a man

trying to live and love life's

changes in all it's forms.