If I could know no bounds; beyond myself,
What beyond limitation would there stand;
Would I, still not know all that’s known,
Or, could be known and not understood;
Or all that ever could be understood,
But know very little of nothing else?
Because I’m the layer in the tongue,
And I am the tripper in the Cheek,
Silvery-laced, gilded-faced, and owned—
By what right knows one in binding;
Or bound, knows thee in finding,
And found, what knows thee that couldn’t?
If I could know no bounds like the lightening;
I’d still be hindered by condition,
For what boundaries can’t be pushed,
In light of those that can not exist,
And in existence creates a limit all its own;
I’ve had said too much of this uncertainty.
I am the unhinged closet door swinging;
The uneven ledge, unbalanced, devote,
With nothing, we’ve divided by zero,
Digging in the inks and color changing;
What dangerous this is boundaries smote
And by living we’ve come to fear the cold…
It is the not knowing that freezes;
Blowing cold like the olden wind wheezing
We’re the adolescent degenerate,
Beyond the fathom, but pretending,
The hail storms come and they go,
The damage ping, pongs, and pangs
And We write pages on observations;
Blowing older, dissipates—degenerates.
The ghoul in the fields for the ‘stutter’ rat,
Flies at night on the wing when I slumber.
The brazen symbol, the insight, irate,
And bloody, bloody, bloody blunders;
Corrupt by the thought to know it well—
The bounds besets the yearn to them dispel!
Bizarre, this is of mixed-up factions
Dissidents through suffrage-contractions,
Inclusively formidable for intellect,
Has lost the bounds and came closer to Null…
If I could know no bounds; beyond myself
I would know all bounds except myself,
Beyond my understandings I could know
Boundaries instead of what lies on spacious sides,
If I could know no bounds beyond myself,
I’d know others that set upon disclosures
Of that which I’ve set myself to know beyond.