Linear Vibrations
As I watch the linear vibrations
Make themselves manifest
From circular disturbances
To sensual substance
Which cannot be touched by
Human flesh.
My eyes hear!
My ears see!
The silence.
The foundation
Of nothing.
The void.
Of which we,
Me,
I,
Are but a shadow of.
The offspring
Of which we are,
Of which we love.
The children of silence
Can see but are blind.
They cannot see the reality
Of the reflection
For they are seduced
By the images.
Imagination seduction.
The seduction of silence
Whose sensual fingers
Massage the weary brains
And rock the mind to sleep.
So the poet may be born.

The mindless voyager adrift
In a sea of sensuality
In his conceptual boat
Of linear vibrations.
Linear vibrations.
Those pulsating
Glowing,
Flowing,
Consuming
Units of manifestation,
Of silence turned inside out
Of silence showing herself.
"Come here, lover."
"Love me."
Loving her we forget
to love her.
We turn her kisses into anchors
Which sink in the muck
of our senses.
We turn her dance
into a sterile fertility rite
called tradition.
Our own mindless unloving
which we called love
becomes dull, labored
and tired.
And silence cries out
To her ailing children.
"Look,.
Here I am.
Lover."

© 4/14/74
Stevon Lucero