Phases

I have God on my lips; I have love for the soil.
Treason tears through my heart, and makes my blood boil.
Then my lips go blue, my heart turns cold,
And defying the state grows as vital as bold.

I uphold virtues, values, and kindness of character.
I see the beauty of an artist, the genius of an actor.
But along comes money, and casts its ugly light
On the virtue of ease, and the art of might.

Love happens and blooms, it excites and falters,
But the love for love in me seldom alters.
And while it breaks and repairs me on a song,
It makes me go cynical, loving, and strong.

I embrace new ideas, and leave them behind.
I delve into thoughts and mysteries that I find
Buried deep and tranquil, under a complex strife.
I take them up – then chuck them, for a non-intellectual life.

My turbulence cools, continues – I guess it might confuse you.
And if you know me well, it will assure and amuse you;
I am just being myself – when was the last time one gave
One’s word for a steady and stable ocean wave?

June 2015

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