Mechanized zombies with peas for brains,
Waddle in this iridescent planetary conservatory,
Toddle, rather, wandering through deviant roads,
Where regulatory disturbances couldn’t be
Heard or known when they hadn’t roamed
Then gained the present of experience,
Despondently wishing garish pathways
Became evident to sight, to regale, instead.


The Risk

Loathsome gastropods housed in sea urchin shells
Resist meticulously venturing through alternate universes
While restlessly aware it would do them well
To advance spaces with shelters disembarked
Traversing through whorls into alternative worlds
By risking the, must have been, slight chance
They’d find the asterisk planets they sought.

Disparaged stars would guide their tentacle eyes,
While they’d all blindly flop in their own ridicule.

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.


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.

A Mere

Furtive disambiguations of celestial dominions, immensely
Noxious, tightened their grips on psionic leather strapped whips, from
Yesterday’s lashing songs when they used to never stop playing along
Onerously, always screaming incoherently, “WAnnA hUrt?!”,
Like seriously, a kind of bonkers bouncing off the walls. Instantly, the
Others paled, in subjugated comparison; Plasmic men, Etheric gents, and
Generals of the Atomic; lascivious members amazed at the lengths
Ubiquities apparently sought to grab at and uncountedly impressed
Steely knives onto their necks, unnecessarily friskily infringing on the
Stolen lives, of whose?


Yores of Don’t

“What am I doing…”,
She drifts thermochromically,
Lightly spiraling in combative
Sleepless waves, galactically.

“Watch this”,
He manically gleams,
Shooting fantastical laser beams
While he hums chauvinistically.

She chases repetitively,
Nautically penned, senses,
With what could actually be
Dyslexia’s disease.

“The how’s, I now know”,
He easily promises
Much too

While (s)he heaves,
Nonsensically half swears
“I won’t”.

Just Isn’t Enough

Types of touchless expressions layered
On red exoskeletons when they reached the exosphere,
Conjuring historical archives on glossy screens, going up
Articulated thermodynamic scenes, through past lives
Liabilities within christened thermospheric times
Lost in not so distant meteoric realities.

Brilliant wonders searching for what one found in
The other, disintegrating yearnings at the mesosphere
Proportionately connected into lettered stratospheres,
Their arthropodic bodies strategically strapped into cushy seats,
Prevented their teleportation abilities,
Powerless in their adorably disappointed
Tiny android anthropomorphic forms, sobbing,
Lamenting, apologetically at etude tropes that surmounted
To breathing difficulties, unrelenting at tropospheric altitude peaks.

On Love Lane

Unicorn breeds of centaurs
Unctuously strangled pages
Nihilistically on nebulaic planes.

Air Forces throttling controls to prevaricate
Actionable miscellaneous sounding
Alarms, judiciously.

Unable to liken the situation to a calm, the
Forestalling of heat coming from realities accelerating
Kinetic energies inducing gaseous compressions,
Remotely, was left unresolved. Where strangely unreadable
Frictions, regrettably moaned, inside the SpaceVoid’s passenger
Compartment; a once conceived novelty, the first.


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.