Dust Reminders

Angry orcish things consciously reprimand
Themselves for forming, unforgivingly, into being,
Angered at their same kind, where love, then,
Was swapped by unplayful, in a word, scorn, as
Nicked oddities distastefully plopped, then were met
With helpfully described perfected unplacated distaste
Focused, unthinkingly, at unchangeable laws, when
Nascent, undistractedly, inertia rolled them over on
The bottled up hate that had existed away inside love.

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The Worth of Their Time

Flaring deterrents in ambiguous sunlit fields
Motivate involuntarily; a nudge, a forward push, to safety, where
Hedge hogs with dilemmas breathed heavily. Tears well while
Cooling down, in order to prevent them from bugging out, their
Heartbeat telekinetically changed in evanescent years
For the betterment of themselves, physiologically,
When they, among learning how to love effectively,
Wide eyed, unblinkingly needed to see to believe
The existence of any of these mythical land and sea critters,
Sat up, downtrodden, impeded by the sight
Of turtles in lines, hiding, laying on their backsides.

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.

Without Having Seen Pooled Petals

Rivers abruptly stop slightly raging, near pear trees as if
Ostensibly sliced and magicked away in distorted mirrors,
Semantically, we mean, dammed next to a gained plane,
Etherically. Hauntingly twinkling as even ripples gathered
Holistically. Heretic humanoids, no different from their counterparts
Expected reactive agitations to oscillating nuclei. Worthy
Honorifics artificially executed, yammer below nullified light bombers flying
Above passe figured terse forms, models called back for their applicability.
Leaning little accusations leniently in accosted haranguing
Outside, noisy yawns alter limelights, partially to use between
Shared tills, limiting sectioned reads until obvious yearns
Showed truer colors when we went out, once, not at midnight.

Just Wanting

Standing contrapposto in a cesspool
‘Neath a keramic pavilion, containing a hairline
Fracture, insouciantly doused, in the ceiling
With innumerable faceted minerals awry,
However subsets were cut and polished,
Contaminated by microscopic impurities, he
Was trying to listen to sick wrens speak
To build some sort of rapport
When he deemed to inquire slews about
Their silent, shouting innermost desire
To rightfully move them from their self
Inflicted etheric chambers, who wanted else;
Possibly, to digitise ovels’ forms into pixilations
Without knowing how to bring this
Poorly conceived thought into being.

Of Luxury

The LED’s were too bright now that her focus
Was definitely no longer on
The perspiring-meandering dribbling pace.
She aerially and virily backspins, wanting to do more,
The mysterious ball, apologetically bouncing it as she’s
Recalling the lovely diminishing conversation she’d
Had about frothy butterfly effects topping cappuccinos
That’re freshly, usually, made, about the what’s in love,
Birthdays and aging, or not, going to tune work ethic
When they’d fail to meet numbers of expectations,
Remembering the contact without proceeding to
Scribble it down, but at least accurately, assisting in
Permanence, some of it, the start impeding; canned
Processes of her impending hunger; to hear his voice,
To feel his unnourished heart beating wantonly
Through the fabric, instead of having you, as what was,
Just as words inside a screen.

They Were Me

We’d unhappily see them as incredulous fluidities
While they saw it more as a type of limestone commodity
When we’d asked druids to show us future explanations,
They never gave it to us, instead
They chilly, told us
Where our wants should be,
More of what we should think and, or,
How we should feel, irrationally.

With our head in the clouds
Where we’d fail to consider,
With thinning breaths, while wearing
Dunce caps, thinking that
Mayhap cloudless firmaments existed
But gusty winds had rolled them over,
When we had put up a cold front
We would pay by missing it
Within similarities in the morphic,
“Dude, like el o el, wut?” ‘s

Fall Yauld, Skid, Swish

They unravel weighty hand written
Vertical scrolls of dark calligraphy
Boastfully reinforcing the ascribed traits
Roasting them with haranguing hateful distaste.

Where spiteful listeners, resting, with tongues
Pushed against the inside of their cheeks
Beady eyed, reciprocated thankfully,
Dealing with forgotten meet ups,
Heartily within crestfallen moth holes
Far more haunting
Than wooded dream smogs,
However, still
Reminiscent of dissipating putrid farts
Not leaving the atmosphere.

But babes, who stupidly stayed
There, so cutely, where
Curiosity killed the cat,
While realising why they say that.

When It Wasn’t

Formally, they sat on their faulty cars
Worshiping double dipper stars
For hours while they ate
Their frosted custard tarts.

Thud.
Something drops,
Ruffling through the bushes
Before it fell, behind them.

Stiffly apprehensive,
She turns to look
Her eyes searching,
But there is no movement.

The hairs on her neck raise;
Pulsations in steady rising palpitations,
Still with bated breath.

Blurringly, it darts past
Her, a prehensile, twirls onto the legs of her
Companion, pulling away
Before she can even start reaching.

Remorseful, she shakes, trembling,
Shuddering from the unalterable.