Uhhhh

Despairing haunting horrors
Of spectacled menacing grins
Of tentacled worlds, caught or lost;
A negated named nameless sage
Belonging to others in real realities
Comes slickly crashing down in finality.

While discounting the possibilities,
Well in disinterested phases, slipping,
In farces of convoluted reasoning’s,
In symbols of an effigy.

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Gamblers

Where would we be
If we’d never noticed the vaporous rippling surface
Or crossed from this timeline to the other dimension.
If we had not overcome our fear of triple point waters
Or mistimed the opening from the moon’s reflection.

Was the cost
Of the chase
Of no import,
Do these letters
Fail to support
Time as unwasted
For a muse now
Tempered across
Alternating realities.

While the effluvium
Of her solidity escapes
Into wells of hopes that lie
In dormant chases
Of the moon’s reflection.

Empty

In retrospect, I should be grateful, for
Being given the chance to witness
Scribbled extensions of undeciphered labor
Where figures posed in lines of incantations
Were carved as illusory caves of historical
Hysterics on breathable skin parchments,
For I’d have never learned to transpose
The technical aspects of applying those
Specific pressures on zinc plated panels.

I should be grateful, that the time I spent
Searching for healing lines weren’t wasted

Then why is it that I feel like crying
When I think of how I’ve lost images of his faces
When I still have these lines that fill up these pages
Even while silent whispers of finally met passion’s keep calling my name?

 

 

 

Then the susurrus of familiar experiences soothe
In how it didn’t seem so vastly different in its birth
In each of those misstroked hatchings.

But it was.

Don’t Be Mad

An instruction guide
Or tutorials displayed

Your predilection
For predicaments,
Valid against;
Hackneyed forbearances,
Corrupted balances,
Ridiculing statistics.

Whilst entertaining
Gritty whines,
Barred drunkards;
Efface their opponents,
Dismantle then restructure,
Adjust and adapt to rules.

Wielding a knife
Is the quickest way
To run.

Title Lag

Expected transfigurations
Of silhouetted contours
From hatched outlines
In mimicking craft
Of countenances.

Forms of commanded silences
Derived from ideologies
Of Truth is Law;
Unshakeable, indisputable
Moments of momentous mementos
In destructions of unfounded wooden
Lodges with wedged in reasoning.

Enigmatic enmities of rebuttals
Of rebellious refusals reflecting
The absence of the prescribed.

Repeated bolts of heightened acuity
Fiercely quell repudiations
By irrefutable evidence
When facing the sagacious
In strikes of stark realisations
In learning reliable consistencies
Repetitive leaden defeats leading
To admittance by amicable amities
Of words blindly accepted;
Reframed as idolatry.