She Doesn’t Even Know

Miasmic forms blinkingly guide her
Through an interdimensional
Hall lined by portals,
Disguised as doors,
That led to variants in
Timelines unaccounted for.

These bouts of idolized madnesses
Despairingly rotating within discounted
Knowledges in centrifugal force
Were where sights
Were set up at
Certain heights promising
Disappearing floors.

Centripetal forces
Coerce her into a room,
Where she scanned the walls
For a clock
To tell her
That those jargon words
Had amassed to
Something of inherent value,
Where she was able
To feel yearning and yearned
To be held.

Where miasma lovers
Could have deigned
To have understood
Her angst in some other
Distant world.


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Aliens

“Blasted be this space!”
For we did not know which way to go.
“Perchance we should engorge ourselves
Whither that planet, o’er yonder
Replete with a range of,
What they call
Themselves; human, brains.”
“N-yes, indeed
We’d find much
Needed sustenance in this place:”

Blue-green shades;
Formations overlaid.

Distortions melded freely.
“Mayhap we could enter
Dimensions with more gain.”
“Considerable losses
Must be taken into
-consideration.”


Our State

Reigning through astral planes,
Labradorite arrow heads
Directly mined from morpho mines, of
Plastered shafts with augmented porcelains
Painted in glossy black mediums, and
Fletchings of ebony razor blades of
Plastic vane extensions, conjoined.

Labradorescences flashing iridescent
Blues, violets, pinks and golds at
Submicroscopic spheres. While
Spectrolite scarcities dramatically
Reel in those dimensionalities.

Theories of quick sand spaces
Moving in unthinkable speeds,
We pray on those points above;
Lights seen through semiopaques;
Muted mustards and darkened grays,
While he contorts our realties.


Radiate

Dawdling rainbow waves brilliantly bolster
Floating cloisters of clustered floral patterns;
Clamoring roots dangling in traveling wisps,
Petals in bundles of electric cobalt sparks,
Whited oyster pearls, vibrating bismuth greens,
Starch red bleeds, ephemeral violet plasmas,
Lined yellow flares, and whispered orange hints,

Variant forms of past endeavors of awe
Struck wonders, giggles, and haunts;
We float towards
Primaries and secondary colours
Drifting away from half clasping grasps.

Those vapored seconds of the first.

From traversed dimensions
We take a glance
From these mountain summits
Staring at those jagged formations
That we could upholster,
Like the last.


WTF

In occasional disorientations, hypnotic Hypnagogia
Mutants of dimensionally disconnected time frames
Oscillate in sheer fabrics adorned with octagonal beads
Of silver ores and crystal shards encasing plasma, made for
Raves inside stunning evidences in this prudent reality.

The Missing Piece

An avid carnelian turtle initially stonily searched
Questionable interdimensional whorls for a cooler space.
Previously artistically crafted, rectangular wings
Fulfilled its suggestive longing to stay in that place.
And when it met its destination -or thought it did-
It then witnessed its piteous fate of lost grace.

In layered dimensions it learned its incapabilities
By examining fecal trails that gauged morphing lands.
Its blustering amateurish attempts of outside adventures,
Tanking, as it blubbered from sour tokens of forgotten hours.