A Thing

Somewhere, a thing
Finds solace in the ordered
Spell bindings, carelessly.

For fear was a thing
That existed within
Mirrored kinds.

Vision only grants access
To the wanted.
The wanted = bratlings,
While the novel
Becomes the next
Sought out encounter.

So a thing, trembles
When they say:
Speak to me please,
While reflections in the past
Cried out their shame.

For a thing’s words spoke more
Than a thing might intend,
While a thing saw much less.

Hopeful pleas that would
Then fall by it’s self.

While a thing
Finds pleasure in
Filling up senses
Without knowing how
To do it.
Without knowing how
Well it could please.


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We Would

Austerely bare, we’d lay
In wait, fingers barely brushing
Our creator’s extended hand.

Oh, how we’d struggle to
Even breathe these words
Into parses of acceptable
Offerings, humbly knelt
In your reassembly
In the unmistakable likeness
Of a master sculptor,
Unworthy of your life
Embalming palms.

In which earthen world could
Our words ever hope to reach
Your indescribable coalition
Amassed in the gravity
Of our time and space, tossed
Into the ever deepening divide
Antagonizing our senseless lives
In each searing word, lit as fuck.

In the truest time we’d abide,
As these hieroglyphic pleas,
Inexplicably existed
Only by the skins
Of our teeth,
Were then nipped
At budded ends;

Each and every
Eye opened birth portending
Inescapable heights
In our stories retold
In poinsettia forms.


Hate

Motives thrown into the dark,
Differences in intended talks
Given a perfunctory glance in brevity,
Grievous deceptions on rear backs,
Wounded, stitches healed, those scarred,
Persuasions in illicit exaggerations
Lost to authorizations, collaborated religiously,
Bleak futures surmounted as disregard,
Thrown out from nth storied buildings,
Where lasted love prevailed, despite
Reordered sigmas, regardlessly.


When

Likeminded herds,
Heard fretful antlered growths
Where merrily made guises
Kept fading into the distant
Sorrows of slowly rotting carcasses,

Resting in the fractured pieces of
Divestments in the unturned (as of yet)
Hallowed investments of those untamed
Coyote minds, ever watchful of fractalizing
Detachments after having upturned
These beratingly hushful uncertainties in
Resentful wooded dreams inside glasses of
Jaded memories ticking forward
That then staggered and froze,
When they unstartlingly pondered,
“Today” or maybe, perhaps, “tomorrow”.


Vaguely

Rats.

Jarringly, I found out that my
Kamikaze like memories would
Kill themselves off without my
Noticing (allegorically),
Before an acceptable
Time frame had
Dodged by.

Wait, I think I spoke too quickly.

What about suppression…
Could I possibly
Relish this as an excuse?
What about how close
You, actually, were to me..

Maybe it could’ve
Been a hybrid of reasons.


Addictive

Cardinals supplied euphoric nectars
For wailing ruby throats
That cared a little too much,
That took place of bested negotiations.

Nervously they’d fidget inside
Derailed woes.

The eminent spinster spins
His preference for reds
With illusory wools.

Partially drugged up from supping
Prospects of caricatures caused
Disappearing one point perspectives; pain filled
Comprehensions in minute successions
Vanishing in memory’s loss.


Impure

The course of virtual realities
Held steady streams in glistening purities
That belonged to deluded deities;
Their wrongs, unacknowledged.
Because their temples
Must have been of
Superior import
Than those considered to be
Lesser; inferiorities
Being duped by ignorances
By their own arrogances,
Spittling at their own
Transfigured transgressions.