You might allude to this man of myriad miens
Or awe at his nonchalancy.
A palpable sense of fragility,
His persona is almost ethereal.
I would celebrate his vulnerability for the pleasure of it,
And forgive his fugitive memory 'cos it has no match.
He is sanctimoniously quaint with sufficient sanity
Enough to drive a woman to insanity.
Can a man be so meticulously detailed?
Very unrevealing of the finer details that maketh a man?
There is absolute harmony in his dealing,
Satiety perfected in his being.
Primitive sophistication and dominant dogmas adds to the fullness of this man,
Who could not want such a man as a friend or foe?
He loves to be called “musician extraordinaire”
His mellow voice does a dance almost like a sardonic laugh.
He is in constant passive resistance to every possible aspect
that is or could be a threat to his chauvinistic ego.
And heavens! Can he dream dreams, so enchanting, so whimsical
Imaginations so vivaciously vivid that it is almost tangible.
Eternally on a quest to refine and redefine
With remarkable clarity in thought.
Modesty is his middle name,
And honesty is idolized in his idiosyncrasies.
And the comedy is that he is convinced of the most preposterous theories
Coupled with an art of finality in the most confused state.
I would call him a satyr with strong desires,
A hedonist with quite a few mystical avatars.
This man is an unforgettable experience,
Like a world waging war against itself.
I could traverse the many worlds and not find a man like him,
So rich in thoughts and words (deeds?).