Saturday, 3 March 2012


If life is something standing
on considerations
to war on adaptations and shares
on many expectations and songs,
it is like living with antique artworks
to deal with proportions and submissions,
on love flame, on performance and sacrifice.
It is a search with light microscope,
where water path measures nothing,
if tracks are drawn, on cultures on high wave
of temperatures and strains.

Adoration is something
like metabolic index of shades
of our touching heights that we draw,
and we map it in our full favor,
yet we cannot survey
the useful essence of sequences,
symbols of flowers being on the wall,
an embedded yielding love.

We do smell the scent
that the flower does spread along,
and we use all senses to form locus
to have copies of gens.

We do travel on silver glazed hope,
emotions are vent of occurrences,
all those go with activities with organs,
sometimes it is full of pleasure,
sometimes it is fury of burning tears,
And thus we do live in what
we deserve in the life.
And relatively we prepare
for second scope of living,
first scope of living goes with
budding and generating new cells
of our body and mind.

And we are now accustomed to
living with another score:
in the electronic browsing
with machinery dreams.

And distantly related sequences
are background levels,
With less hope of second relationship
on rolling DNA’s assigning.

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