Chatter

I have this tornado
A literary typhoon really
That is skipping stones across cerebral matter
Catching word after word on my tongue
Scantily clad words that would do little to arouse
Any intellectual interest

Just beats and verbs
Stumbling across my palate
Clogging my sinuses, floating across my irises
Dainty calligraphy in my ocean of vision
Swirling ink running down my cheeks
If only books could cry
Instead these pages will just stick to my temples
Creases in my sanity

Catch this thought
Flitting fast
One mercurial inspiration
Catch those feathered ankles
Tempered flesh should weather any ideal
Concepts shouldn’t batter down the threshold
but
Rare is an emotion that is rooted heart deep
Always something planted by foreign powers
Foreign invasive natures
Sharp verbal skewers
Holding your hands up to some light
Dim lamplights of the midnight city
Let some tainted light show what really happened

Subjective fluttering of wings
Scraping by the subconscious mind
Tickle, flinch, thoughts to repair
Or compare
Do you really care?

I caught this mockingbird of a finch today
Brightly feathered gem
That screeched just to be worn
Literary enthusiastic wrapped in sheer vellum
Scintillating repetitious words that rally to be reused
Conceptual theories that beg to be repeatedly espoused
Some comfort
All the same
Subjective contemporary singularities
But in the end
We are all the same.