subliminal

                                          my final sleep    
   
                    “Your future depends on your dreams,    
                      so go to sleep.”—Mesut Barazany    
   
my i love yous are not a ritual    
     contrived to pacify some whimsical    
adventurer seeking habitual    
     escape to boast of the unusual.    
     
          nor is my humble life a carnival    
               parade along butt-naked maravals,    
          to entertain the idle casual    
               seeking vain pleasures for light intervals.    
   
                 a simple faith my only capital,    
                      my bounty yet retains its maximal;    
                 the things men cherish most are minimal    
                      to the arena of subliminal    
   
                           accountability.  for, pivotal    
                                to human sustenance, are ethical    
                           dilemmas that are more than nominal,    
                                to him who would escape time’s vitriol.    
   
                                     my it is finished is untypical,    
                                          unless my spirit hastes the funeral    
                                     of hopes that falter where the orbital    
                                             content of life becomes illogical.    
   
                          lest you mistake my song for lingual    
                               confusion, mark you well this musical    
                          profusion of the intellectual,    
                               and let my final sleep be gradual.    
   
                                             © Copyright 2022 August 23    
                                                      by Clyve A. Bowen♫