[Something Other] a poem

We know nothing,

almost nothing of fatigue,

of grief,

the manner in which it metastasizes in the muscles,

in the viscera, how it diminishes our cerebral functions-

-a theory, that our cells are affected physiologically when we see the resistant strain of sadness a resplendent thing, a resilient, inhuman thing, that plans to arrive temporarily, sees that its transplantation is a possibility without rejection,

 and refuses to budge from its cavity of capture,

distills its spite through septic memory and math, envelopes a ratio almost mute to clotted sounds of capital antibiotic-

-there then is a seething city,

 dense,

 both with proud smiles and dimming lights inside a mind

 lost in landscape of memory and darkening roses,

roaming the narrow streets around itself

while it too roams different wider streets

 around something other.

Dontrell Lovet't

-from [Leitmotif]

[The City] Life & Identity

 A city is the reflection of the life it holds; Paris, New York City, Rome, Rio de Janiero, Chicago; denizens walking with manifest destinies, wandering, having spent their entire lives there still exploring roads they've been oblivious to.

The architecture is a direct result of the perspective of the artist who has come to the city, observed the intricacies of lifestyle, the influences and have built upon that very nature. Oswald Spengler once said that "The town that once upon a time humbly accommodated itself to that picture now insists that it shall be the same itself." The mirror of the city is provided by the poetics of the city, the tandem steps it takes to revolution, de-revolution, de-evolution and reconstruction. As the people evolve, the city evolves, new ideal painstakingly flickering with the induction of new denizens, new citizens, political, a-political, anti-political, the aspiring, the inspiring, the academics, autodidacts, the tradesmen, the broken, the flagellates, those looking to be redeem from what was lost before the efforts to flee.

The city is a poem; fragments of broken literature, animated words and schematics fluctuating bliss, joys, sadness and melancholy simultaneously. It's genetic code is not one known by man's applied science nor can it be predicted or predicated on theory alone, but waywardness, existentialism, nihilism and absurdism. The city only sacrifices those who have long before sacrificed themselves

Dontrell Lovet't