Deserve

Mutant rodents skitter ahead on
Persian rugs across the foyer
Covered by a layer of
Slime and soot
Shrieking their
Squirrel like kuks.

Feeding on formations of future’s
Gestations in the foray of mysterious
Silhouettes, when
The maltalent never knew
What “deserve” equated to.

SWERVE –
For the same matter,
Their
Perfect.


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ADHD

Within the pages of a story, I
Dreamt about immaculate things;
Just these beautiful translucencies,
Where you’d fuse yourself through
Discolored doors of ADD’s ineffabilities.

Dishonesties suffused inside grandiosities,
Those inflections cattily self-inflicted,
Where you’d be the favored frequency,
Within these conflagrating pages,
Starting freshly chaptered scenes.

This recurring question:
Prone to impressions,
Were we.


Despite Warning Signs

With weighty shields
Held up to hunched up shoulders,
She rides, inside inversions of
Javelin games that preceded
Fanatically styled themes of
Prevaricated controls
Within previous experiences
Within emotion’s scents.

Wracked with regrets,
She sought evidential proofs;
That a life riddled
With loopholes
Did not, in kind, deign
The deranged,
That empires had been
Wrongly assumed.
Then, decidedly, estranged.

Her discontent in vulnerabilities
Proceeded by winged frenulum strengths,
Fraught in her gossamer threads,
That could’ve been avoided
Had she stopped to think for a bit.


Love

Surrounded by garden bed planets
Daisy dazedly tends to
Tiny worlds, barely built, orbiting
Daisy’s parameters.

Distracted by arbitrary baubles
Daisy travels through voids,
Desperately, to capture
The belief of rarified mediums,
Giving value to matter
That was of no worth.

Granted access to these ornaments
That fate determined as purpose;
Daisy’s dumb ass bauble
Became Daisy’s world.


These Words

I am tired of trying
To see what they
Make.

How they know
My interests before I would,
How they would show
The shadows I’d try to hide away.
How they formulate;
Where they come from,
Which story, which song,
Which movie, which page,
Which vision;
Did they show.
How they’d effect
The words I’d choose to say.
Do the sounds I hear
Effect them,
Could it be mathematically explained,
Could a computer algorithm solve
If it were to be programmed the right way.

But I couldn’t do
Those things at all.

What about every given thought
In a day,
Or the one before,
Or the one before that,
Or the one before that one,
Etc.

And then
Trying to see what her words
Said about her,
How much of it was real
How much of it was made
Up in the attics of my brain.

I didn’t mean to fall in love,
With another ghost

But I did


Kapowed

The colour of her aura
Drew me passed
The black magic curtains
Not dissimilar
To ones I saw once.
But I, I am just – a man
Forgoing a journey on a
Creeded hill with credulity.
Kinesthetics hold a telescope
Niched at pitted ends.
Finalities given to me at
Carved dangers in her intellect.
Kapowed by her disagreements;
Radioactive love
Donned to me in ambiguities.