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Tag Archives: Reading

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

 

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Circuitous Disasters and other Wide-Ranging Fortuitous Ramblings

 

Circuitous disasters

Cicadas spinning strong

Songs of triumphant kings

Prevailing over beasts unfound

 

Catastrophic devastations

Birth from adders in a cobras bay

War-strung harmonies are all that play

Coveting the smoldering of a desisted day

 

The cloaks are grey

The smocks are red

The iron is steady

The flesh is dead

 

Fear, fear, fear, is in the backseat when you’re with me dear…hear, hear, hear me spell your name in a sleep so real

 

Presorted cards of calculated potential

Despite not knowing the square root of nothing-doing,

You still deliberate your tentative response, with a quick

Swig of whiskey and a book casing clothed in math

 

Insidious dimensions

Arithmetically aligned

To all and each of what shall we find

When perusing through the sanctions of your most precious plots in mind

 

Tortuous dominions

All brash and bark

Full-fledglings beneath you

Now as you hunt blindfolded

Along a path so dark

 

Risk me the riddle

Answer the shine

Blowtorch the vacuum

With a shot of the strange

 

Prolonging the loudspeaker, it’s several of hymns

Scratching the needle, not close to the ending note though, not near

Where the first of it’s five minutes begin

 

And a tornado far-flung it’s fantastic rope

Dangling clockwise in the conundrums revolutionary pit

Clocking out

Clicking in

Checking space

Twiddling thumbs

Until

Then…that point when,

Time trials whisk away

Every temptation to spin dangerously near my eyes

Collisions

Earth-quaking numb

Dumb

Succumbed

Blonde, not blue, not black, not white, I quiver in the conversations that rely on observation, as I’ve only ever offered the world as seen through these wonderful, yet self-deceptive pair my sockets hide…

 

And the dreamer finds himself a’ wondering

‘How does an angler never catch a rock with such taut lines?’

 

And all is fine, all is fine

As the trumpets blare

Tunes told twice

To the skyline’s neon growth

To the theoretical ghost to which once spoke

Songs to the Forensic tech

Who happened to find the assignation to the crime

Was devised in an empty room that he alone should

Stumble upon, where it was his duty solitarily, to drum up

Some sort of answer to the blank resolve that he there would find

 

…and he would find it

 

 

 

Naivety in a World of Mass Communication

 

If my ears perk up,

And then tilt my head

To a side, will you find me

Odd, or understand

I’m just trying to get

A fix on you….

 

There is, so much to uncover foundationally that the basic workbook approach is so primitive in it’s elementary scope, that we’ll never broach the subject’s prospectus, not until the question’s clearly choked upon it’s own impatience and then to where….a

 

Fiery ball of electrified….erupts in furious witchcraft…

Entangling it’s very stock in the perishable yet dented cans of

Exclamatory zest,

Which, which of these,

Which of these words enchant you best?

 

Loyal to a fault

That’s been my everlasting decree, my shadow symphony, the broken back upon this skeletal frame I’m withering in,

And until I break these fortunate chains concealing me close,

I’ll never escape that which I’ve become to be, the visual representation submerged next to the Webster line, a living example of what is deemed, chiropractic porn for the unilateral mind approaching frenetic zeal, a mask for the offering, to he who hath no well to nourish

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

 

Yellow Cab Cutie

 

Pike me up, toll road’s down,

Free to handle, each strain of

Gravel to skip up and hit the carriage underneath

Clean so close to this broken stretch of ground does mean

Invisible and aligned

 

All and both the turns, a foundational approach

For the indecisive set, a line, a hoax, a holler and a mixed bag of magnitude…a combinatory…..stretch of paint….that only illustrates….the dimensions…of what is determined to be……. wretchedness

 

Never been careful to what the trap door lies, even after knowing the blueprint, even after hearing the hollow boot to slat, I forget and flip about in seconds flat….too much drinking on the job is never advisable…yet so many people choose to go against the grain…

 

Forget-me-not, soon will rise the morning sun, and quickly I relive the last eight that I’ve spent…I don’t work the nine to five, nor the two to ten, I’ve been called a vampire, yeah, a vampire… as the past twenty, it’s only the graveyard that I’ve sensed

 

Lowly peon, scrounging sap, broken loner, a perfect patsy for those who don’t want to work, yet the dispatcher often claims, I can’t be on the job, lest overtime I will demand

 

How they know me so little

 

Jersey hack, wild ride, Pay my fare and confess your sins

And when tomorrow’s born,

You’ll feel the cost yet know you’re home

Despite forgetting how and who got you there…

 

Such the life, such is the life….for a livery man and his getting older every day loving bride….in yellow, gussed up in yellow paint and wheels that ride

Inextricable Mutation

 

Indentured voices formed

at the brink of dawn

intimidates the offering

of escape

 

A vigilant fluctuation of pre-cognition—adopted

by an ever-willing victim—trusting

in whatever alterations

are procured, while resting

in ambivalence

 

embryonic states, contoured,

not from celestial dream, instead

it is the writhing palms

of humanity

that issue such decrees

 

 

Tis’ a soiree for the dead

A psalm for the living

 

Lethargic kisses from a dancer with a broken paw

 

A clerical error made in favor for

 

Satiation’s imbalance

reprocessed, collated and destroyed as such

 

Fawning beneath the sweltering midday moon

wholesome thoughts, forgive naught those dreadful acts

refugee, in a world of eschewing mobility

canticles, vespers and storied lines…. teasing the temptation inside…. to deny, belie, defy

it’s as all things can be

humanity, extorted over betraying principalities

mortality, remanded to believe

that time

will solve

your most tender

of maladies

 

Brook…running north

Valley cinching tight

Fizzle And Fade

Demarcating princes from a rogue state,
Trip-walked their way
Unto lattices funereal

To gallantly pronounce a quarter flash
In a methodology exceedingly relaxed
Breaks the temper steadied by the half-life
Lunging about, creating seething estates
Much too complex to ever devour in sate

Ingénues and girlish dreams
Broadcasting the flowers lilting
Like the pastures of a misplaced roué

Dancer—
Romantic arbitrage
Loci—
Amassing contextual reconfiguration—
Breaking down
The doors of hope
With the dovetailed slant
In a land of make believes and Cant’s
Frilling, willing, generally appropriate
Beneath the visions made in
The noon-day’s sun

Clover, commas, vixens and valor
Painting postures upon Jacob’s three-rungs left… of a ladder

Polarizing speeds of chilling descents
Allegories bred to deemphasize the stinging nettles in the subtlety of this cast of frozen trees
Settling
In distinct location
Predicating
In loops of madcap behavior

Push…the scary spruce away
Dampen the appendages interpreted to contain life’s crutch
Zero-gap-gain-contour
Zealots, ingot’s, relics and riddling zeal
Sale of goods…bill of fare…tomorrow is a debt we’ve yet to bear

Naked, amongst a quivering breeze…intent to perpetuate the solemnity of a sordid sun…yet not in the manner the nightmare was initially sung…editing out the moans and hollows with hope-filled surrender to a sentimental gun…pulling the trigger…pulling the trigger
And leading a life no one saw coming…a life no one gave a chance to…
Achieving
This day
What so many
Non-believers
Categorized
As a half-life
Left to fizzle
And fade