Balance; a poem

Balance
My mind is a journey full of chaotic combustions,
Echoing unstructured memories.
Muting morning nuances of childhood,
Basking beauty in a cluttered fancy,
Building boyhood dreams; unmanaged by treachery,
Left rotting somewhere; a lost parameter,
Tangled and beaten, thrown away and shuddered,
Toddling, dangling, suspended, and unsettled,
The fiery demon dives driven with intention,
Arouses by slaughtering; plucks, pricks, and prowls,
Leaving soul, spirit, and sanity; unrevisited, unattainable, and misunderstood.
Yet, (regarding the soul)
Does it not exist still?
My
Mind desires vision, longing to undistort,
Untangle, unwind,
And recreate,
The boyhood dream; never blemished, tainted or toiled,
Humbled in humility, exposing and reflecting,
Shelving fanciful desire,
Forcing balance, tuning the sense,
Deconstructing random acts of guilt,
Decomposing……..
Demoting uselessness,
Deepening spiritual desire,
Untangling the violence; the need of….Being Invisible,
Withdrawing from my reality,
And driving the demons between the cracks of their fruitless despair.

Arise light! Prick my inners,
Awaken! Submerge the visual and the figurative,
Blend within,
the echoing nuances of childhood-
Now sleep,
Dream of Miranda, the train vs. Playboy vs. the red fence
Hollowed by weather and cracks , Bo Derek,
Galveston and the fountain,
Swat the lamp but don’t kill the fly,
Wear the wife-beaters; and watch carl sagan on stage.
Become the abstract of the Vardanians,
Of 5 south and Fullerton,
Of El Segundo and Elena,
Fascinate, expose and untangle all that is good,
Withdraw from fear and wreak havoc to that which pulls you,

Elevate;
tickle and dabble every fraction of time,
And hold back that which holds you back,
So sleep the dream which consumes 1/3,
un-third the other thirds,
Rip the crave, the kick, the sweet-tooth,
That has consumed your bent mind,
Seek balance;
Dialogue your imagination,
Intermingle, diffuse collectively,
with myspiritanbody,
never fear your tireless tear as it sacrifices itself with much abuse,
Your skin, your hair,
Nail them juxtaposed,
Creatively collecting allusion,
Anticipating the next virgin,
As long as the voice of love prevails,
It will therapeutically heal,
Systematically allure,
It will Take away from that which will steal,
Securing permanence; Invalidating a grand illusion,
And the endless street frolic….
Help me fight those demons that keep me from all that is wrong about me.
Andre Janian