Somehow, Someway

Quite errant simplifications tickle
Dozens of anti-players feasting on fares
We used to call pumpernickel, where
Purifications were cast by stars
That would a twinkle in edification,
While we’d search, content, for the numerical
Values in nullifications, identifications
Trickling far from personifications,
Petrified by wraiths, and their deifications,
Carrying fickle wormhole hearts, physiologically.

Rectifications of wide refractions
Within solidifications of geodes,
Where connected bacterium rose
From aberrant displays of fucking sickle cell anemias.

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Their News

Heaving breaths, stuttering exhalations, think to grab gadgets
Near crazed cabrits cracking dammed walls of sheer reflective screens,
Temeraroius creaks eerily leak. They speak; “It’ll last about a year or so we think.”
Extrications awaiting to seep through unmitigated constraints, as they’d weep,
Inconsolably at absurdities, parched and lost, unable to turn back home.

Allaying their fears in discoveries of disappearing loves by utilising techs that
Overtook their cognitions, only after they shook off merits in their
Inertia, scrunched up, while raising broad notions of the dead.

Quiet Plans

Serpentine master jewelers with criminal
Minds quietly planned out their next glories
While their protégés sat by idly
Counting meteoroids that dramatically
Parted from asteroids.

“Go, and collect the pallasite
From fallen meteorites. Use your familiars,
They’ll act as indicators, to find the sites
Nearby, and we promise we will
Fulfill each and every fantasy.”

Heeding idolized words they grabbed
Their little stone cutting swords,
Setting out on their small adventure,
Disgusted by sparkling beauties
Stuck inside ironic space rock histories.

Silently, raucous crafters would comedically
Gaze at cute relativistic truths in tragedies,
Where they, in their folly, didn’t know, in horror,
How to form the questions to find the answers in mysteries,
But entertained uncontinuously, to a scientific degree,
Robustly, with gusto, lost semantically.

“Nice! These’re real! Not fake!”,
Their exclaims riddled with romantic
Qualities, “Oh how generally pleased they’d be, if
They were personified here to see!”
They frolicked with pleasured gleams from the actions
They could shuck, wishing they could psychologically
Do much more, killing to do so much more, on a
Planet like mars, on falling meteors.

Faith

“Did you know
That centaurs argue like children?”

“Really? In what way?”,
My comrade’s face scrunches.

“Ya, their responses usually have
Consisted of, ‘Nay, t’was you.”

She lets the information sit for a bit
While trying to stomach it,
Tossing a six pence,

“That’s terrible. The same
Centaurian herds that throw, in alternation,
Those large mechanized stone beaded weapons
When battling three tailed tauruses
(Their arch nemeses), that are
Worn deceptively as necklaces?”

She stares blankly up, standing still,
From beneath the oak tree
From which we’re collecting bark,
Taking the moment, I remark, “The
Very same, they must be aware
That there are—“

She dreamily interjects,
“No, there must be a galactic reason
They’d speak so nonsensically..”

She pauses pensively, I wait for her to finish
Her thought, “Maybe it was just
During those moments,
Those specific moments,
When they felt they had been
Cornered and believed, maybe they knew,
That other kinds of airs didn’t exist when they’d
Lose themselves in losing arguments.”

So Far

“This is an instance of a cue
To go outside or stay inside.”
“Well, what will it cost you?”
“That, I still don’t seem to know.”

“Well, have you seen the wares of the sundries merchant?”
“Oh yes, I’ve been. I spent a little of my money on some black dye
But only used a few drops to cast some color on these fibers,
But there are many more garments I’d like to alter..”
“Let me guess, you still need to learn
The skills to completely dye this set?”

:I
“Wait, careful, there’s a pod trap
Laid out in those ochre patches.”
“Something might be there then.”

:II
“Was it worth all that dreadful pain?”
“Very much so, I think the thrill and excitement
That exists in the avoidance of being
The next kill is undeniably fascinating.”
“What would have happened if things
Hadn’t worked out as well?”
“There is no reason to dwell on such
Trivialities ya brown noser.”

:III
Hmph. I see the purpose of your question
Therefore, I will not give you the satisfaction.

“TSsss. I heard that.”

“Puh-lease. It’s only cuz I let you.”

Commentaries

They rove against the barren terrain
That hold an appearance
Close to scaled slated tile rooves,
Climbing over the edges of inclinations,
Stuck in the crevasses of glitchy objects.

Bugs swarm in clouds of punctuations,
Specifically in their antithetical constitution,
Lost to dimensions where they’d disambiguate.

Data (filtered),
Stimuli (uncatalogued),
Where the attentive, conversely
Focused on pathless destinations;
Lexes cold heartedly categorized into “Unimportant”.

Reciprocal commentaries on the order
Take place as they’d pray, sedated
By the fact that faulty maps
Didn’t display their location.

Tubular

Stellar tubes evidently en route
To myopic valid nations, with back ends
Traversing forwards within ions,
Carry malleable passengers; afraid, would opt
To not dwell on conflicts or their resolutions,
Completely crossing out sentences on drafts
Where similar occurrences of pretenses
Pressed on wards, situated on
Natures that had not departed, while
They, unmalleable and of such little faith,
Just really maliciously
Shat all over the neo-optimistic
Craze to see possibilities happen.

You Kept This Away

Defenses think to refuse to accept less than ideal winding
Perspectives that didn’t want to own tainted goods.
So they’d stay there, behind used mechanized personas
As another, personified by their own creation, scantily upon
Discarding wrapped metacognitive instances, under the sun,
By accident, where thoughts and feelings existed within love,

Deflecting watts of psychopathological reflections
More so when interests couldn’t recall the pro’s
From positive posited past exchanges on greener pastures,
Without a collective stimulus, to let them stimulate
Senses or tastefully mitigate meta
Focuses on grumbling con artists, who didn’t want
To be reminded of real tanks holding inefficiencies,
Connected in miles, alive in modes of held communications.

From The Afterlife

Demeritorious occurrences of shamanistic
Negligences in perceptive perspectives swapped to
Unanimously negated perspicuous red veils that met at the
Rolls of the underworld’s drums in lived differentiations
Allotted to perspicaciousness in the still perceived: counters
Worn in constantly having to uphold hardy established defenses.

Excessively outwitting the negligible that threw
Solvents; actions that never really seemed to dissolve the
Biogenic oozes the dead imperviously kept summoning.

 

Always

Abnormalities shift in paranormal wise directions.

Abducted figures of morning glory’s moonflowers
Dismal in malformations, unwatered, cower, chiefly
Grimacing at the prospect of the doctored maleficence.

Granular textures pondered by the reticent
Cranium, as to what had been understood, entwined
From paraphernalia belonging to malcontented
Fissures that withstood morose restrictions, curdling
By way of the maladroit; their prehensile digits
Chromatically descending into why’s.