Poetic Lick

Scruffalog - Shaun Delage


Beauty to me.
Beauty to you.
A self of many.
Yet led totally raver astray.
Seduced by colour so fictional.
In place.
Seems rather trivial to me.
Wonder of a thought out of place.
Vibe out of self.
A video game.
Crazy and perverse realities.
Playing out in hyper duality.
Springing into action.
Per second.
No spectrum.
Only shaded illusion of the colour wheel.
Buy me, buy this,
I will sell a soul of my senseless self.
Much like a homeless guy on a street corner
collecting coins with peoples fingerprints on them.
For various intelligence agencies.
I don’t understand my very nature of being
Why sell out so early,
Systematic corruptive stare.
Amusement for beings trapped in infinite market wisdom.
Singles out a being as being intolerant.
My soul is far more beautiful and precious then ever thought possible.
I would never give into gradual dismay.
Or loss of singular reflective self.
To be part of elusive illusion.
Always super imposing scattered delusion.
Just be us for every part of life.
You still get you.
But you also get me.
What is there not to love.
I think I’ll stick with me only.
Thanks so much.
You keep you.
I keep me.
I stay I.
Ours is no more but never ending thought form of fringe reflective bliss.
Natural being-solid matter.

- Shaun Delage

kow - Shaun Delage

The cow of a woman was my wife,
And after some real lumberjack women love-in.
I had a fear that there would be no worry, nor doubt.
The cow was really myself, after ten years of not wanting to face my past.
However I felt in this skin, skin, skin.

- Shaun Delage

stella Bella - Shaun Delage

Almost four weeks old.
Beautiful,
sleeping.
Never stares.
Just looks a few times.
Meets your sight.
More-so the registration of an auric field is enough.
Sleeping calmly in my arms.
Tiny hands grasp onto my index finger.
Other hand,
My pinky.
Long darkened auburn hair shields a soft spot.
Flows around the ears.
Keeps tiny head warm.
Small breaths.
Waking every half hour or so to stretch.
Let out a cry or mumble of a cry.
Trying to cry.
Nothing to cry about,
I guess.
Sleeping in my left arm,
I prop it up on the leather sofa.
I fear of dropping the baby or perhaps its neck is too much to one side.
Perhaps she is saying in some manner that...
I’m doing ok!
If I had an angry or unforgiving energy my belief.
Is she couldn’t stand to be in my arms.
She would cry at once.
Eyes open slightly to meet yours.
Too tired to really notice.
Incredible deep eyes.
Sort of a future being looking at you.
Perhaps a princess from another galaxy.
Feeling of calmness and a soul.
Shuts them to wander off to dream of colours, shapes, fuzzy animals.
Rabbit yellow jumper.
Almost matching yellow layabout pillow.
Mostly etheric energy.
Of course a nice sensation of being carefully watched by an unknown power animal.
Is funny indeed, nothing really earthen, more of a fantasy creature.
Children dream that they exist.
The belief that they do.
Fourteen year old coon-cat fuzzy wants to meet her.
What a sight!
The things to take pleasure in seeing on this earth.
Sitting in a meadow with an eight week old babe,
a fuzzy cooncat,
surrounded by yellow and purple petals.
Greenish spring fresh cut grass.
Some fresh water on hand.
Baby food, some snacks for the adults.
Baby milk, baby case, toys, extra jumper.
She looks off but needs you for years.
Sensitive paternal and maternal instinct shines brightly and beautifully.
Baby bed with five blankets covering her tiny soul.
Sensitivity abound with the natural philosophy of soul incarnation.
A viewpoint that would remind one that we are never forgotten.
That new lives are coming into focus.
That will guide and protect us when we can’t do it for ourselves.

- Shaun Delage


Boiled egg - Shaun Delage

Battling the inner divinity.
Intrigued by certain philosophy.
Either ignoring my prince to be.
Or submitting to his kiss.
The trauma of being in love.
The enlightenment in choosing nothing at all.
Wanting to be his art piece.
Wanting to be choosing neither.
A pet or a broadcast being.
Where is the enlightenment not being able to choose anything.
How should I ignore those I love to being salvation.
Being a personal guru to many.
Wanting to find a nirvana state of mind.
Is there such a nirvana in not doing anything.
Or shall I find the choice of making it all on my own Huddling by a tree.
Not wanting to be a part of much, but the development of my bloody egg like flesh in my head
Perceptive skills of the future.
What good is the skillset if I cannot help others.
Choosing the recluse.
Wonderment of the ages.
Renouncil of technology.
Of the being I adore most.
Of the flesh I care to taste daily.
Of the eyes I wish to stare into for ages.
Of the person I want to call my lover.
If he believes in me I shall give him my time in belief.
I want to be his intensity.
I want to serve his needs.
I want to kiss his ear.
I want to bathe him.
I want to run my tongue down his arm.
But I wonder if the path of the enlightened ones, is simply another ism.
Meant to lead us away from the path.
I know my purpose.
My purpose is him.
My purpose is to be inspired by him.
His love, his radiating energy and his beautiful soul.
I simply cannot wait.
Until he appears.
If he doesn’t.
I will gladly choose the path.
Of the enlightened ones
- Shaun Delage

Saucy - Shaun Delage

Scent of a man,
licking his pits,
unknowing to himself...
worked all day.
Scent of a tigerthat
has just feasted...
bloody cat snout,
Although it’s natural.
Illustrious nature of those that govern.
Infusion of beliefs into our culture by Intravenous drip.
A placement above the rest.
A desire to create abundance.
Amusement of those that are the ultimate key holders.
A poet in one of hundreds of styles.
But not in alien language.
59
My own selfless figure eight.
That awakes and takes shape.
Every day, I sit like a virtual inmate.
Most just say, pour some sauce on life it
is easier to digest.
The force of being held quite close.
The stare of those that have nothing on the inside but everything on the outside.
The hurt of those that have nothing on the outside but much to give inside.
One story to tell amongst millions.
One order shouted quietly in your ear to make some toast with butter on it.
To follow for a short time,
then forget.
Be my exclusive club.
Just let me suck on your flesh.
Oh done.
Were done.
Goodbye

- Shaun Delage


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