For a moment of brevity in perpetuality
Luminescent spores revealed to me
Her countenance, underscored
By her turning away as she placidly
Strode at a pace free of care,
The distance could only have
Been at an arm’s length, spatially,
So I got up, very carefully
To chase after her copy, the space..I
Swear, it–it extended infinitely.
She placates with a whisper, “You don’t care.”
She knows, she sees the same thing
“Why is it that you can’t see
That I have been chasing constantly”,
My voice, indifferently, doesn’t reach her.
She’s left this, our, place, without warning,
We both once named Blushing Bromeliad,
Where poking pointed tulips coexisted on lily pads
When I had gathered countless wasted spores
Just to see her rudimentary form a bit more with clarity,
This forsaken place where illuminated contrails
Flowed freely in anointed negative spaces
That dissipated with every surge of motion.
But it’s as if she’s stopped listening.
Yields of a restructured bird’s quasi
Nest woven with gapes within it
At a particular pace by the head
Maleficent fortune teller pest, as expected pomelo
Excrements filled them to the brim, sans
Organisations in incubations in releases for breaking in
Connections with a splattering crack, would stem
Promptly from contact out from a digitised diorama
Upon these hopeful dreamlike states that
Were jostled in haste when, sadly, little birdies almost,
But lacked the most optimal vision, squarely laid their,
(Twaddling), very much wanted eggs.
Oh, tolls of used exaggerations
Depicted resounding emanations,
“We never did that before.
This just has always been.”
Still, the words they knew
Were substantially too few, or maybe
They were too lazy or ashamed
To try and explain their
Duration in pigmentations of realistic nothings
From moments they sought to be absolved
But couldn’t exceed segmentations in time slots
From the guilt that came all about
From following laws built by the very same
Hands that belonged to singular directional time travelers
That traveled paths to expand their knowings for benefits
To see what had been lost to a type of history,
Who could have benefited from
Breaking fate’s ordered commands.
Pretend they had given in into their wishes
Falsifying an idea aliens implanted;
That maybe things happened
For a reason
Replaying the passions,
While saying a lame joke
To hide away the neglect
They had thought they felt.
They’d cower away in pseudo fears
From weightless sticks and stones
Rejected, dejected, ejected
From insidious gargantuan chairs.
Obsessive fervor in black mirrored worlds
Were nullified as they leveled
Their steely glass obsidian knives at magpies
Who’d had glazed beads for eyes, (the compound kind)
Seeking, verifications in the vilified
When they were bereft, to be left alone at night.
Nefarious escapees, undetained, first decided to leave,
Untethered to finite universes, departed from the professed,
Ununiformly, to their dolor, when their napkins
Unsoaked, but drenched thoroughly; liquids dropping past edges,
Unable to conjure their voice boxes in anyway, when
Unification had seemed like poorly thought out plans,
Yet, these men, with what little pride they had left, below
Under pressures in currents, refused to chase stars, as they said, “come what may.”
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.
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.
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.
Hastily, in panic,
They change the
Speed settings on their
By scanning ID cards
With inflections programmed into
Speech recognition databases.
Plumes from fumigated fields
Move in a kind of uber
Super duper slow motion
While the few others
Regrettably fumbled or stood in the fumes
With their devices, but just
Couldn’t see; afraid.
Yet they, unable
To find the numbers,
Searching for the undetermined,
How or where to look, but wanting to,
Hopefully at trajectories of mean insects in
The midst of flight along with wells
Shooting up waters;
Reactions from demolition mines.
Where they, doused and riled up,
Dully couldn’t decide
Which was the best
Path to alter,
Left right in that
Matter filled moment.
Then questioned, expectant,
Your love in the time
They spent in familiarity
Within yesterday’s still remote fields
Without knowing the reasons,
The duration or how real,
Since, it was.
In reticence they contemplate, commenting
About the ways to escape the exciting place
Where perverse triangular thorns were based,
Preventing their carefully laid out plans;
Surmounting nothing except foiled futures.
The genesis of the prototypal, of evaluated worth,
Spread their roots with effervescence,
Since the time genotypes
Might’ve been fumbled, quietly
Stirring in dark paletted vats
Located on the Space Station X.