Everyday Majestic Musings

As days drift on I contemplate my own trajectories,
where life goes where it wants to go with unknown guarantees.
Some days are high, some days are low, some days are in between.
Most days are blessed delightfully in ways I'd not foreseen.
No good can come from floating by without self inquiry,
and anyway it's much more fun to build philosophy,
so here I think about the nature of companionships
and collections of grins and frowns acquired by my lips.

The opposite of loneliness is having a best friend
who thinks about you just as much as you think about them,
a pairing where the sum of one and one makes more than two,
with bonding so in balance nothing ever feels askew,
a comfort countless fathoms deep no matter what you do
or how much time elapses 'tween each happy rendezvous.
These kinships are the ones you spend your whole life looking for,
to feel the closeness beaming from their eyes at their front door.

But if there is a disconnect it can create despair,
emotional imbalance that feels karmically unfair.
So woe betide the reckless fool who enters willingly
into impossible romance without humility.
Your fortitude might not be quite as strong as is required 
to sidestep psychic suffering inherently hard-wired.
And if they're unavailable but say they want you near,
it throws you into limbo where your future path's unclear.
Should you run deep underground to hide from memory?
Or maybe they will come around, so should you wait and see?

And yet maybe it's all worthwhile, 
to fling those feelings on the pile
of exotic experience.
What's life without some limerence?
Like cooking with ingredients
combined in piquant deviance,
all pleasure's in comparison
to measured bitter medicine.

Glinting, gleaming, glowing eyes that see the world through sound and touch,
knobbled, knotted, gnarled hands that swing a cane, not as a crutch
but as a percussive surprise for tapping beats on makeshift drums
or finding giant outdoor urns to thrust her face inside and hum.
She seeks the resonating tone and lingers with musical glee,
and when she stops the note continues in the air echoically.
And in the dark two glassy paintings, mottled blue like stormy seas,
emit a light that's joy-sustaining and observe invisibly.

Single serving popping penes,
tensive turgid whizzing wienies,
flying free like green Houdinis,
spraying seeds from burst zucchinis.

Seedpods explode like grenades,
pressure pulse from valve cascades
launching pips like cannonades
from plant rubbing escapades.