Didn’t Know

Within noxious magic stag nations,
On a pathway called 4D Avenue
Various dragons successfully dragged
Jostling hostiles who crazily sensed
Each uninformed truth, intuited into
Loosened muscles, to a venue
Not far from this now. Nervous futures
Invocations call forth aches inside rooms,
Kinesthetically felt, despite the fact that their
Carnivorous mandibles dissipated from view
Long before synaptic modulations.



At an estate, a battle
for the sake of discovering truths ensues.

Upturned rocks of taciturnity
from equestrian gallantries.

Self-proclaimed monarchs futilely stuttering
at the sight of valkries raising scythes
of bat wings: replicas
of coherencies.

Behind Closed Doors

The pejorative classifications in divulging the locations of
Shared locomotive ramifications in deluded connections from
Credited architects that built skyscraper stele’s that had been
Tried, tried, accepted and denied. For decades they extended;
Wrecked, abandoned, salvaged. Harsh acquittals of revelations
Given in earth shattering perceptions of perspicacious threads
Deliberately uncovered in apportioned instantiations that bled
Behind those closed doors.


Somber words, elusive, elucidate tempered
Syndical urgencies, gnarled, arising rarified
Cubical euphorias, blatantly swathed by silks of
Lustrous elocutions, flashin’ trypophobic glints.
Severities inculcating deified exuberances inside
Throes harnessed in remediable dogmas within
Discrepant oddities wearily knocking on worths.

Nearly Tangible

Cautiously noting the mind’s receding ebb,
Drawn tides start to analyse what could be baryonic
Baryogenesis. Nearly tangible composite matter, a
Caustic reminder of how mind controlled fingers left me daunted.
Entreaties written in order to salvage my newfound motif,
Envelope me in irrefutable mysterious nebulaic puff.
Extended exposure or optical filters inspire
Extricated colours of nuanced diaphora,
Commonly referred to as love. As descended
Euphoric waves disdainfully entertain the beguiled.


I’m Nice

Riddled proclamations of love
Prove to have been nothing more
Than trash slopped sewage sludge.

Oh yes, please go ahead,
Please waste my time
For the sake of your rhyme.

While I tend to your bidding
Doing exactly as you portend.
Just a puppet in disguise,
Pretending I’m nice.

While I decide
These series of unfortunate events
Have occurred in my head
A digestible truth
Compared to
Thinking that you’re dead.


An Alien

Drip, drip,
Your droplets of deluding sounds
Bounce off the surface of my umbrella.
I hear them,
I try to evade,
Then she sends
A down pour.

But I know
I’m not special or unique.

But sometimes
I like to dream
That I might be.

But I know I’m different.

Sometimes I feel like an alien.

But I know I’m not the only one.