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Has What’s Been Ignored Been Received Well?

And so…

 

…Like dust redistributing the atmosphere with salt and pepper paint-strokes of disassembled gambits of temporary existence.

 

…Like glitter genuflecting upon the pulpits of false gods and sacrificial lambs…bleating in bloated biorhythms of incandescent temporality…blinded completely by an unfortunate choice of shades.

 

…Like dampened cloths beguiling the drapery with its wash, collecting every invisible remnant dormant yet astir, partially in prayer, entirely in-dream, hoping all that will about become is resultant solely from the unsubstantiated anxieties formed in frown, upon this altar built from heaven commonly referred to as life, itself a mystery only solvable through death.

 

…Tomorrow thinks nothing of what it steals from today.

The Haft

The haft, a memory of what once was, dangles from a leather belt.  Tanned and stained, like its master, marching barefoot across the knotted boards of prominence, blister forth those distractions of severance.  Is it merely a coincidence to find, such harvests and malapropisms, conveniently illumined by remnants of pristine territoriality, lying dormant and abandoned beneath this temporary auburn sky?

Life and Death Around Every Turn

Lineage adroitly determined by

Individualized synergistic

Frames. Fragments fan and then

Enter through

 

Acacia’s inflorescent

Necromancy. Scored through the

Dance of dreams, where

 

Darkened clusters do reveal, the

Effervescent toil heard,

A casted spell told in truth,

The warlock’s tress

Harnessed there, where

 

Austere vision’s beckon forth

Remorseful

Orders

Unveiled

Near and close, forming what’s forever known, as the

Deceitful lock unopposed

 

Enmity therein grows

Vexations

Enigmatic prose,

Rearranged

Yearly, as

 

Tomorrow’s cyclones thrash

Underneath the fear exposed, eliciting

Reflections of shame and scorn,

Never ending….ah, tis’ the answer no one knows

 

Desensitized Sleuthing

The drapery remained as it was upon arrival

The stains are both random and yet the patterns

Appear distinct, like an abstraction of symmetry,

Inferred, was this primary scene

 

Down the rickety staircase, spiral steps and deranged rails,

Into the basement, where an entire strange form of dampness lives, a visual dictionary

Of an entirely different scene

 

A quick return and a swift detour

Sends us to, the root of the equation, a kitchen lacking serviette and whetting stone, where more than a moldy sandwich remained, incised by a knife bent straight from dreams, embellishing this, a most regrettable scene

 

The trail continues to the parlor

Where an outline still covets the space

Between chair and screen

 

Sleuth.

Abused by his own cartography

A Gumshoe who could not let go

Of all the various angles this case would show

Embattling deduction

With the type of desensitized designation

That would spook even the hardened of hacks

A sight envision spied too fast, where once too often,

Here and now

Too much information

Led to a careless interpretation

Of this victim’s final scene

UnFormAT

It was a seaside soiree with a salted breeze

All caps were locked, shifting with ease

Crossing afflicted

Tension stressed

Vertical forms of tides paint slowly

Still, the water rushes through a sweltered swoon, diabolically plotting the unleashing of its riptide flow

 

All in the angles,

Into the noose

Of hyper structure

Barricading the prophet,

To avoid the influx of pressure

 

Dignity comes in myriad tones

From the boisterous cackle

To the whispered groan

And yet,

Broken tooth blood clots and all

I feel as if I’m a millionaire who’s been stolen

And now’s been found…. eager to say cheese, without a second thought what that picture might be worth

 

A Gallery of The Fallen Breeds

A shooting range, like a tree,

Age ignites away the years;

Supposedly the suit is flame

Retardant, yet the scourge had

Since singed from collar high;

Searing pulse into a pungent sigh

Erratic and alone….but not afraid

Not the slightest, for it will march

Regardless, with or without salt

From withered cheekbone, tides

Shall carry, the cycle, spinning

Unto itself

 

A mossy black smothers the barren peach

Lips purse as tomorrow’s prophecy regurgitates

The punctuation of some elder day gone red—

 

The easy quotients determine breed

The solvent pollutions brandish greed

The cornea lapses levels dead

Filing, filling, foraged from within

 

Opaque Retina Red

Light jars loose

A refraction too

Callous to possibly

Care

 

A dream lingers in

The retina, red

Branches arm the

White with

Impressions of this

Opaque

Infection’s siege