Practice

In stalled exhaling vents
Of stagnant airs ment
To shred transparent sheets,
The host stuffed of fleets
Of encumbered flaking ink
Seeks parchment to sink
The same release it once
Sailed in currents of parses.
Which end will a steward
Choose to push towards,
Which armour? Dipped in gold polished,
Patinaed bronze rusting, or cold
Dusted metals collected for smelting,
Reforged in translucent discarded molting’s.
Fluttering molds of castings casted away
From irregular seams. An array
Of clouds drift slowly in redundancies.
Stifled inhalations of repugnancies
Halt the motions of exploration
Of facing disfigured formations
In installments
In lineaments
Of practice.

Advertisements

Her Progeny

I’m determined to see this task to its end.
But there are instances
When the vortices of recollections
Pull the motions of production to halt.
This determination causes the aggrieved
To relive traumatic loss,
A subsequent outcome of cathartic release
Reflecting abreactive methodology.
The familiar crippling pain
Comes creeping back into me
As I am reminded by her progeny.
Is it worth understanding
Or is the pain something better left forgotten.