Romantic Empiricism

Feed me oh taunting gods
the fruit which i have tasted only in my dreams
so vividly
that these plump ripened cherries
stain my tongue for weeks
weighing it down as i try to speak of anything mundane.
Didnt we learn from Hume that all of our complex ideas
must ultimately be composed of simple ideas,
that any idea that we have
is ultimately derived from sense experience.
So where are you my missing shade of blue
for i swear i already know you.
My soul has already seen
your beautiful aqua-marine like shimmery glow.
It has cascaded off the walls of my mind many times
like early morning skies
flirting with warm Carribbean seas.
Too many flowers have tried to bloom in your hue
and pose for me like little needy orphans,
but i see through.
If Descartes was right
i could not have concieved of you unless you exist,
and i have tasted you
as crazy as it sounds
you have told me all about you
ive felt you so deeply!
I have, in my state of totality
(quite far removed from what i know as reality)
carved your name inside my flesh
forcing myself to never forget,
and so with every breath
i listen for clues
with every twitch of my heart,
growl of my stomach,
click of a joint,
ring in my ear,
i am closer to discovering you.
Just like Bjork
i miss you
and i havent met you yet.
I will never allow you/this,
my force of life to rot away
giving some poor hopeless romantic me,
my empty carcass of flesh on the couch
watching tv so that we can have something to talk about
over a breakfast i cannot taste,
while vivid dreams of you remind me
of what i never had the patience to find/become.
Where are you,
my missing shade of blue,
i will wait for you,
to come and fill in every pore
every gap of empty space between molecules
like a complex didactic key
and one day i will read this poem to you. - j