Horrid horns in repetitive crescendos start blaring in section-Q.
Planetary fissions have been happening frequently at The Acrux
Rotary Sphere’s. I run to the gravitation ships located at the Heart
Sector of Spiral Headquarters, racing down the steps at the helix
Guard railings, fervently sliding down towards the atrium, now
Congested with silhouettes in lines, practicing each blasting hex
Gained during the last virtual-motion training simulation at HQ.
Weaving variant pulses in flaming arcs of formations inside Isogriv
Visual Optics from implanted chips. Swiftly, in order, they shrunk
Quarantined debris in conjured tangerine electric laser cages. Ting:
Eradicated masses within a blink. Garrulous cries chatter at marvels;
Neglecting the death count. Tainted brigades of a fleeting aberration.
Morose rebuttals of abhorrences inside this forgotten spaceship,

Used –End.



He knew.
He knew this would happen.
He knew I’d look for him.
He knew I’d give up.

Did he know that would piss me off;
That, that would be the drive
That would keep me searching
These dimly lit roads
Flash luminescent memories
In passing highway posts;
That I would turn right at
The next fork in the road,
Past the blaring yellow caution sign
He merrily rote
To ward the weary
From nebulated cliffs,
While used
To draw in marauder’s
Just like Tom.

What does his map
Of the human condition

Is it knowledge?
Was it coincidence?

How did he know.


She Would Say it Better

I can reason
That it was never about me;
That she was me, her, and him, and them;
She was
The thoughts that would slither and writhe
Deep inside the dark infinite expanse
Demonically apparating, flitting, in and out
Leaving particle trails of excrements
Laying waste in synaptic data encasement;

But I wanted it to be.

That was in some other life,
Some other utopian dream,
I created in efforts to keep,
This fantasy fiction that fate
Unfolded in front of me.

She would say it better
She was better with words

If she really wanted to make a connection
She could have reached out and grabbed
The trembling hand I had extended.

But she didn’t.

The idea
Of her cold lifeless body
Causes grief.


Within His Hands

Within his hands he held a promise
I had sought since the first time I had fallen
Perhaps long before the premise.
Even if it may not have been pointed in my direction
He had shown me love, understanding, predilection
I wanted to know the wisdom, the knowledge radiated
From inside the lines he had written.

What was this creature known as man, I wanted
To know it. His soul piercing stare infiltrated
My senses, my body. But I didn’t possess
The clairvoyant vision he had been granted
In reading these words where we profess
Our basic fundamental existence. Venerated
Cajolement could have been generic
Attracting those who turn to writing. But it felt specific.

But I know
I’m really
Not all that different.


Allowed to Think

He threw words
As if they were pebbles
But they would scintillate
As if they were stones cut with acuity
Refracting light in my direction.
His calling voice
Would draw me towards him
Would cause the need for
Closer inspection.

Proclamations of love,
A love he swore was unique,
A love he claimed the world had never seen.
I barely remember
The words he would weave together
To express his love,
So grand,
So applicable to many.

But was I deserving
Of such praise.
Am I allowed to think
Even for a moment
It was directed towards me?

Deluded imaginations,
Taken into consideration.
As arrogance
Is a reality
That exists within me.

But he wrote parts of my story
I thought he understood parts of me
I thought he saw me.

It didn’t matter
That the understanding
That I thought I felt
Could have came from my own words.
I was moved
That someone
Like him
Had seen parts of me,
I have not shown most,
But could still claim
To love me.

The love that he would show me
The love that he would promise
The understanding I thought I felt
The acceptance I thought I felt.

In this spatial vortex
Of uncertainty
I am certain
Of the obsession
That followed.

What kind of person was he
Was he speaking to me

Were you able to see my hatred for delusions
Before I wrote about them.
Could you see why
I hated them so much.
Why it would be so hard
For me to accept this
To be reality.

But I decided
Try to envision this scenario
What if this is real
What do you feel

I wept at the burden
Of your love

That could have had
No real existence.

Within these lines
Do you hear me screaming.