deepundergroundpoetry.com

To find something like you
I was wondering? Of finding something!
Some music!
I wanted it so special.
So peculiar.
So different!
Like it is some sort of cuddler,
That turns my heart into a playing harp.
Uninterrupted!
Looking for it!
Desiring!
I got reminded of this glimpse.
How I had been searching?
Looking for an alchemist.
To make this compound,
And create something beautiful?
A garden of colorful scents.
But then!?
One day!
As something dawned on me.
As if I got under the bite of a beast!
Right there on my neck!
I realized,
It is already,
Bizarre,
Peculiar,
Mysterious!
All I had to do is let it be.
Unchanged.
As it played the tune.
Speaking a language I had to play.
Sometimes lazy,
Other times stubborn,
And at times flirty,
Most of it shocking.
So I changed my mind.
There is no such thing as creating.
Finding a bizarre.
Inventing an exotic piece.
It is already over there.
All I had to do Is fly high,
And lend on the fragrances of flowers,
Undisturbed of creation.
Whatever I did?
No matter how I tried?
Hopeless I were!
Whatever the mixture?
The accord of notes?
Giving the excess,
Or the burlesque of scent!
Whatever I came up with?
It was the flower standing for itself.
Colorful!
Playful!
As mini challenger of my psyche!
The note I put on the accord,
As I digested the on the way?
It was overly stubborn,
For me to be creating!
Some music!
I wanted it so special.
So peculiar.
So different!
Like it is some sort of cuddler,
That turns my heart into a playing harp.
Uninterrupted!
Looking for it!
Desiring!
I got reminded of this glimpse.
How I had been searching?
Looking for an alchemist.
To make this compound,
And create something beautiful?
A garden of colorful scents.
But then!?
One day!
As something dawned on me.
As if I got under the bite of a beast!
Right there on my neck!
I realized,
It is already,
Bizarre,
Peculiar,
Mysterious!
All I had to do is let it be.
Unchanged.
As it played the tune.
Speaking a language I had to play.
Sometimes lazy,
Other times stubborn,
And at times flirty,
Most of it shocking.
So I changed my mind.
There is no such thing as creating.
Finding a bizarre.
Inventing an exotic piece.
It is already over there.
All I had to do Is fly high,
And lend on the fragrances of flowers,
Undisturbed of creation.
Whatever I did?
No matter how I tried?
Hopeless I were!
Whatever the mixture?
The accord of notes?
Giving the excess,
Or the burlesque of scent!
Whatever I came up with?
It was the flower standing for itself.
Colorful!
Playful!
As mini challenger of my psyche!
The note I put on the accord,
As I digested the on the way?
It was overly stubborn,
For me to be creating!
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