Images-Perfection Ever Flames, An Endless Supply Of Moths Poem by Lonnie Hicks

As I am,
I'm perceived Perfection
upon my ivory pedestal
in brilliant light
crystalline.

But these are my prison walls
Uniques Glow
is Perfection's Pall
which exiles me from that outer world
of reality.
I cannot mingle there.

My existence is constrained.

As bright as my Radiant Glow,
upon approach
to your world
I would dim
and be destroyed.

We can talk you and I
in Perfection's Harmony
but the moment you gain
my speaking voice,
my thoughts,
all is taken from Perfection's Shelf
and another less perfect me appears.


Nothing will compare
to me as I was.
Should I
in coming to you
destroy that Perfection which is now so dear?

Conundrum.

Corporeal life
is Kryptonite
yet mental isolation is too numbing.
I am Beauty in the light
but unavailable;
forever Uncoming.

Sometimes
Beauty is torture
we ourselves inflict
to escape our worldly life.
But since its shape
is mental most
it cannot ever be.

Pity the person
whose countenance
is corporeal beauty
realized;
they will have the sterner test
of not living up to hearts image most.

Each prince
whom we have constructed
alas, can only live with us
til that moment first,
the single word;
then the dream slips.

Honeymoons and marriages
might last longer I think
if we did not first wed
our Perfect Prince beforehand.

Is it not truth plain
that love itself is only grown
when 1st Prince Born
is laid to rest
and Prince Now
is allowed to live?

How better ground is it
to love the flower in the garden now
than those ones first grown
in Furrows of Gold
in Dream World
where Perfection's Hoe
was Loves Seeder
and Instigator
of the visions
we now hold
of what ought to be?

How can we in flesh and blood
compete with perfect diamond visions
which never fade or rust?

Whose hand is warmer still
than the Princely hand held in our dreams?

Who is sadder than
those who loved us;
yet whose faces are shadowed
by cold, Perfection's Glow?

How to dream
our destiny
yet still
love those
'round us;
remembering these ones
are the ones who will
when we, in time, tomorrow
are no longer our Own Prince
or Princess Image;
no longer Perfection's Darling.

Rest you better in Human Arms;
while they grow old and leather
they'll not in the end
take your pride and sell it away
to Dream Land Barons
and Rock Star Princes
who all live in Hollywood.

What to do?
abandon Vision
goals and Prince;
leave aside Destiny?

No, we must grapple with
this conundrum sent:
wrapped up
Perfection and Beauty;
living along side
uneasily,
with what is merely Human,