Always Beautiful

Multidimensional warlords in warzones repeatedly
Match oncoming blows with machete sword warriors,
Perhaps, wisened through unwarranted masterpieces
Where pisces would artfully swim in sweltering
Waters where mutating riverbeds
Revealed mutable warp holes.

Mutant ammunitions from the always amused muses,
Copying previous versions, not knowing how to cope
With thwarted coping mechanisms in discoveries
Within ambiguities and their applicabilities
That day, when they said, “…meaning
Can be found in the words
People choose to say.”


Those Thoughts

Social pathways in aster visualisations
Lighting up portrayals of sceneries
With various scenic things display,
Palpable seasons on even horizons that
Insouciantly fell to the immediate foray
In this learnt psycho space,
Where devalued philophasters
Wondered how
Little could ever be
Too much.

Then: Far

The receptionist takes my coat,
Then gives me a slip,
You know,
Those ticket stubs
That you hand over before you leave
These momentous lairs, after
She had written
Down my information, along
With the date and time.

She moves to the rear
Towards the rotating thing,
Her heels clacking.
Briefly, I steal a glance
She turns and stares and
For a moment, I freeze.

But I didn’t know that her face
Was going to show the
Most dazzling smile I’d ever see.
Suddenly, as if I’m under a spell, I canter
Towards this fair maiden, undulating,
For I had become hot and bothered.
She invites me over
By caressing my shoulder,
Motioning towards
Her dungeon chambers
Through a tear in
The fabric of time and space.

This dire occasion
Where I didn’t really
Do much else
But do that dance for her,
But for some reason
This was happening.

While Fear kept braying
That eventually
She’d ask for me to leave
When she finished
Sucking the life out of me.


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.


Nightmarish incubi soared through the kingdom, icily
Crystallizing subterranean plains in alizarin crimson yields.
Frozen figures of sarcastic synergies imploring motion
Within obstructions disintegrated as farcical defiances
While lost souls cowered inside these forgotten labyrinths
Where energies were consigned to shaded hiding spaces.