Set me free

(for there are always opposing forces)

I am trying to have a meaningful life

but a meaningful life is trying me.

I am a ‘curiosity bystander’ posture

to ponder everything interest offers.

‘Marvel’ is a turn-on I easily possess.

Yet there is a global scale

I personally cannot ignore

for I am the nostalgia of driftwood

remembering forest.

I am sobered

with disappointment’s dour grapes

yet crave an intimacy of full existence.

I can internally debate every desire

yet live in the confines of captivity.

This self of hesitancy

is like a shyness of me

preceding my passage

yet I have lots of energy

for the simplest of childlike things.

I have allowed myself

to be unavoidably drawn to essence

yet I have supreme confidence

in my own limitations.

Everything shocking is a lesson

I eventually learn the best.

I have used intricate interests

to be my allure

and yet I am anxious

about its unexpected’s gift of delight.

I am somewhat seriously sensible

to the point of inner self-exclusion.

By my self, I am a backstage guy

of most things quite pleasantly

yet there are emotional urges

lending themselves

to the joys of actions.

There are times

of lacking broadcast confidence

in the most private of means,

an almost unbearably unshareable self,

recoiling discreetly in a private manner

yet churning across an invisible ocean

of thought-form means.

Sometimes there is a discreet self-agony

to an emptiness within much like a ‘void’.

Many times disappointment slams the door,

while longing hard enough

finally sets me momentarily free.

There are unavoidable self-accusations

that make demands of practical idealism

self applied as appearances in the mind.

These are a card house of inspirations.

There can be assertions of self-vacancy,

yet some internal permission is given

for shared emotional bloom.

My mental equivalent version

of this inspirational sense of being

becomes a construction

internally elaborate beyond its means,

yet meaning is sometimes beside it self.

This feels non-sustainable

in a self-witness sort of way,

yet the feelings are of falling up.

My personal desire plain of memories

has storyline conflicts with the past

yet melting down while moving forward.

Sometimes I feel vacant

as inspirationally challenged

yet duplicitous self-passage

in all ways

gives me pathways

to set me free.