On the etheric plane
Rising hazes of anomalous
Life forms, flicker,
Not quiet here nor there,
Live out in quiet tumulose plains.
They dried cultivated manifestations
Of barley and wheat
From arid embankments.
Where they kept asking
The makers in consensus,
“Do we cease to exist if no one can sense us,
When remembrances of barely
Thought out incantations
Partook in their feasts?”
“If we need to eat and drink of this mead
And we live these moments
Just as of those who breathe
Are we not as real as they appear to be?”
The maker in turn responds
Daily, tumultuously toppling
Toppling trees too far
From those of whom
They’d have been intended for,
With the thunderous roars
From eldritch lightning beasts.
Tonal airs drift towards squeamish rows.
Shortly after, snow flurried onto shorn hairs that
Candidly shown; glints from cable cars, seemingly
Sewn into rails of justifications in worn realities, were then
Geared to avoid defunct enamored tears.
We noticed mixtures that could be of the perfected;
Severances in all them reviled humanistic tendencies.
Telephonic displays; their identifications,
Coo their heartfelt sympathies,
Done by drones, as they’d reassure and
Say, “I love you” in electronic voicemails.
Multi-hued heated currents,
Freely flowing in plasma globes,
Spark solitary streams in horizontal plains;
Convecting, rising, disconnecting
From gaseous laws: without constants.
Paths altered inside imprecisions
By remorseful fluorescent conductors
That built this groovy world
That contained their own
Highs and lows of woody copes.
Choice – given
Within fabricated dots.
Crowned avenues bordered
By blooming cherry blossoms
Depictions made to be plausible,
Conned by doubtable existences;
They’d unconjugate gated expanses
With lasted least resistance.
We review the “I” inside
Dreams of idealisms
Detached from before;
Defining every fiber
To be human.
Wile – Impatience wears Patience’s cloak,
While Patience is silent.
Mercury glasses held in
The decadence of night
By beings inside warped mirrors
Hold up blinking ornaments
To their mystified chins.
Gooey stars drift in whirlwinds
Within redolent aethereal spheres.
Hospices filled with the shunned:
Beggars, lepers, and cunts.
Doors to rooms; gateways that severed
When order had been ordained.
Bleats demoralizing these structures
Warding them away inside antistructures
From history’s censured misadventures;
Hating, disgusted, lamenting at
Pointed fingers; objected.
Holograms of limboed dreams
Limned by dripping reference beams.
She wants to act like
Than other women.
Doesn’t she know
That if she gives too much
I’ll let go.
Does she really think
The worst could be held
at guantanamo bay.
Those things that would cause
us to shudder, at the mention
of the heinous things they’d say.
forged again and again,
turned beyond recognition
into pulpous corpses.
each time spoken;
addled lines, pretenses,
to make the story great.
Devoid of realness
left to strafe.
Through the complexities of space tunnels
Fabricated by hypothetical schools
Made to be lengthy tests
Where time seemed to be
Made into trivialities of diagnostic schemes.
Brightly lit neon signs
Blurring past attentive notations,
Below, above and around them,
Numerous characters indicative of the inferential and descriptive,
However small or large, in essence
Released from impossibilities.
Her voice heard in the distance;
Words meekly hissing through apologues;
Probabilities subjected to a sentence;
Seeking narratives of an iota allocated
To venerated yields of unities.