Ideomotor

We are but prisioners of waterfalls

We stand on broken ribs
Faces to the glass, we drown
Heavy mileage on our minds
We wrap the earth in cerebral folds
And the corpse we carry really is a weight we'd like to throw
We love the strange
New animals
We love the fearful plants
But we all surrender
Turpentine to ride us of our pasts.
You would walk the rotten hillside
You would taste the clouds bellow

But the way you walk
Is running water through
Valleys in palms of hands
We all know we will be
Respect by greed and death and loathed by clarity
Jettisoned
Emotions flood the banks
The valleys overflow
If only
Memory served us better
We cold swin to dry our souls

We're suicidal swans
We're silence in throats we creep
You'll know us by the shaking ground
When ideas emerge from the deep

Dolphins have more dignity
A sleepwalking helicopter
Gracefully deceased
Beauty makes the blind weep
To describe a song in color is a portrait's symphony

The light drips on closed eyelids
Through holes in weathered sheets
Curiosity stands up where strange faces hide and seek
Swarming the webs of electricity that dragnet the city
Confusing power with duty in a place with trees like origami
Monstrous theories dance with nightmares on the horizon
Absolute equinox
Listening to history in the present
Planets approach with lupine walks

We're suicidal swans
We're silence, in throats we creep
You'll know us by the shaking ground
When ideas emerge from the deep

Offering flowers to the dirt
like paralyzed dancers we decline and smile and flee
But, with years of past devotion
The crushing atmosphere is bitter-sweet

In my waterfall, here
In earth, I'll slowly disappear