It Clicks


 

Can you explain
The scales that consecutively run
To those that cannot sense it.

Our vision that pales;
His, hers, and mine,
In the faces of sophists.

Then dewy inklings
Of feathered proofs lapse
By subsequent engineering
In uncounted droplets
On tympanic shields
From deciphers felt.

Breathless moments buried;
Dissonant reverberations
Diminishing;
Things I
Use to
Savor.

Don’t Be Mad

An instruction guide
Or tutorials displayed

Your predilection
For predicaments,
Valid against;
Hackneyed forbearances,
Corrupted balances,
Ridiculing statistics.

Whilst entertaining
Gritty whines,
Barred drunkards;
Efface their opponents,
Dismantle then restructure,
Adjust and adapt to rules.

Wielding a knife
Is the quickest way
To run.

Title Lag

Expected transfigurations
Of silhouetted contours
From hatched outlines
In mimicking craft
Of countenances.

Forms of commanded silences
Derived from ideologies
Of Truth is Law;
Unshakeable, indisputable
Moments of momentous mementos
In destructions of unfounded wooden
Lodges with wedged in reasoning.

Enigmatic enmities of rebuttals
Of rebellious refusals reflecting
The absence of the prescribed.

Repeated bolts of heightened acuity
Fiercely quell repudiations
By irrefutable evidence
When facing the sagacious
In strikes of stark realisations
In learning reliable consistencies
Repetitive leaden defeats leading
To admittance by amicable amities
Of words blindly accepted;
Reframed as idolatry.

Hope’s Imagination

Screeds of inks slither
In venous pathways
On fragile rice papers
Feebly made by paupers
Who wistfully pry
For wishful tokens
Of compassion’s compromises
In the lit pathway
On hope’s flighty imaginations
Flapping in tragic
Wills of vehement longings
For real enchantments
Of magicless worlds;
Sombre realistic reminders.

What We Chose

Reflections of mangled confidences
In incandescent words
Of inevitable losses
Those who sought redemption
From repudiated horrors
Of untimely hours
In muted reveries;
Vaporized voices of intangibilities.

Airtight metal doors locked;
Unresponsive to patterned codes
Of likely misconstrued rhetorics;
Of queasily relinquished prides;
In quizzical encumbrances
In unrequited diminishing vortices.

Anthropomorphically weighed physics
Of bleakly styled truths
Or exquisitely chiseled fallacies.
Where comforted comorbidities
Of mythological redundancies
And existential deities,
Salve.

Spouting extrications of love’s yearnings
Hopelessly behind those locked doors
In layered inquiries of reality, prophecies
And connected scales of measured precisions
Of ethically disapproved pursuits;
Pierced valves of barely perceived incisions.

Here’s a secret,
Morality is whatever I wanted it to be.