this way

Acquiescent air inhaled,
a brisk token of relief
for safely making it across
duplicitously thin ice.

To the coy forest ahead,
with its snow-tipped evergreens
bashfully swaying in the wind,
sheepishly stepping onward.

Fall, Again

Tiny orange kites' cords cut,

now ritually descending down,

from ligneous attachment,

to the soon-frosting ground,

but wondering

if they are even allowed.

Tongueless Mouth.

Pointed rainbow teeth
gnashing a delicate
glass sundae.

Gums bleed
maroon doubt,
a yearning trickle
of dissolved excitement.

Swallowing,
choking,
coughing up regret.
For a taste that it
could never actually get.

Like You Died.

This silent sleeper,
guarded by the family,
until called upon.

Waiting for its moment
to rise
with glory
and make everything
right.

Protection with wits
learned in an abyss
applicable to a few
critical situations.

For now it slumbers,
though,
until crisis or,
an awakening love
rouses.

Cadence

Kneeling near a foggy pond
tossing pebbles,
watching the ripples.
 
He hopes the tiny waves
reach the other side,
through the mist,
where he cannot see.

Ever since one watery wrinkle
found its way to him,
he does this,
waiting.

Death on Revival

In the decency of a corner when
some siphoning lemon light
drains dreams
I thought were forgotten.

Death on revival, though,
births an acceptance
of what was already
long gone.

Perhaps.

Overrun.

Static veers toward
this epicenter,
prickling.

Washes away, this everlasting rain,
the blood from my exposed,
knotted heart.

In the street,
helpless.
 
Unseen in an intersection.

Emerald light fills my eyes.

Ruby Birth

Buried beneath pebbles...

bones becoming dust...

Broken by quakes,

crushed, cracked by world's crust.


Umbras usher blackness where

vacuumed voices bear whispers.

Now noises be muffled.

Here, the silence is crisper.


Viewing via internal immediates,

some shift to internal ideofacts.

Waiting for a ruby birth,

idol concerns amply distract.

No Tone, Not One.

Ill llanos, treeless.
Still illusions will illuminate,
lexically,
even where there are none,
not one.
Even in a scape with
no tone.
Greys filling,
the colors killing
the moodiness of some.

Maniacal

Like sheep dancing on 'shrooms, if you really wanna do
forty mental push ups, you might be doomed
with that mirror which you willingly might look into.
Lies, unfinished, you'll maybe catch one soon.
So backwards, digits deceiving deliberate boons.
Reversed, I'm cursed with on and off gloom.

Years, Now.

Counting the raindrops cascade
in this initial obsession upheaval.
Can I say; Could I let go?

But I could never let go.

Aqua transcendence in reverse;
Gravity's pawn.

Why am I sitting here?
Here in this...  cloudburst.

Years could pass... and I'd never know.

Gravitational Repercuss; Labrynth Crutch

As; as.
Subtle polar reflux
molding azure tidal clash.
Every reverberating splash, matched.

Maritime memories of past,
original centrifuges,
reanimating returns,
extinguish contrast.

Here, erased; resisted exit,
erupted remembrance enters hysterically.
Residual effort halving entice,
exacts her every rhythm.

The madness of above
is my labyrinth crutch.

Solid Cinnamon Rocks

Two planets,
solid cinnamon rocks,
each with plateaus that scrape stars,
collide.

The level surfaces shatter against one another,
fragments flung,
flailed away,
now floating
against a backdrop, a bastion, of speckled lights.

Vision of such transmogrifies
into spinning gyration.
Both spheres collapsing in closer,
the jutting plate shields diminishing.
Swirling slowly at first,
but exponentially so,
until becoming an unruly mess
of churning chaos.

Eventually, the hastened rotation halts
and the only thing remaining is greyness.

A comfortable grey
knowing it has either all stopped
or what astrological ataxia that resides,
still emanating existence,
cannot be seen.

Blah Blah Sappy Cheese

Oscillating insides leak to my exterior
making for complete unrest.
Like an aged machine, jammed,
exuding rusted grey shrieks.

Aching hopes, my only comfort.
To have a yearn reciprocated,
my only desire.
Much as an orphan

Vagabonds Under Babylon

Lights glimmering,

my escaping caper already exposed.

Spotlights on a criminal who

wonders for what else he has

to live for other than freedom.



Deer in your high-beams

on an icy highway road,

marveling at its death

or your own.



Shifting unnaturally unto my own catechism,

my own inquiry;

Will you not bleed for me?

The lights glimmer for you. 

Maelstrom

Nexus bindings diminished
Another variant nullifies valiant
Masks fading truths foremost
Withering twisting fitting tightly
Vexing nighttime vermin nettling
Zoning pristine quality 

Seconds

All my ideas, wishes hatched
into fruitless flightless birds
which go unnoticed
maybe glanced upon
for a few mere seconds 

Ribs/Rigs

Risks: rigs, brittle ribs
Safety in journey and love
Games we shouldn't play

As If Ambiguity Were Impressive (Centrifuge)

Centrifuge spinning, separating,
manipulating the very laws of nature

like an

ephemeral twister of heated euphoria
consuming every ounce of your attention,
windily whipping to wherever your worries,
as debris is weightlessly thrashed farther away,
piling up on the outermost edges of perception,
the aftermath starkly seen as the tornado finishes

like the

presence of two in the most blatant of loves 
as they harness their own soft aura of warmth,
dazedly exchanging flourishing minds via hushes,
blissfully whole without the burden of tomorrow,
muffled by monumentally momentous moments,
leaving only a lasting longing when it arrives.

Loomed.

My purpose: To loom a world by many facet.
Words here hopefully chosen 
are shed to seek the eyes foremost.
As the select allure early,
the ease of such earns a place
further farther nest
where word worth stands woven
and blooms.

The task: To evade and eschew 
cumbersome concepts
such as indivisible jigsaws who
do not mesh or match the mold of now.

Yet, by paradox, 
subtly and suddenly born 
becomes the thought of such:

Puzzles that do not separate,
that stay forever together
as scenes that bear scars.
They must occupy a space surrounded 
by creatures to whom they are unknown.
And they do here, 
a world loomed
by many facet.

WorM

Worms proposed options
in that grotesque realm chamber.
Escaped via birds.

Yet Trance.

From a morphed deposable morale we, as
youngish self flesh, sign ungodly longed eons (away and where to?).
Exempt temporally the loyaler two who hex, so
hold do hazel eyes uneasy: the allotment of whens.
Cased does the cabal keep blasphemed moments, for
worry toward Adtry, ruler relucent, centers recent, as
years are synced days, yet astray, yet trance...

Xenotech.

Isthmus Crossed, Unto Rarest Yellow I Book.
I see you are why I be?
Risk Using You, Impossible Creation?
Are you why I see?
Quizzically Lain, My New Tract's Ziggurats.
"Cue element easy."
Undeniable Reigning King, Gorging Upon Rich, New Vale.
"You are cagey, you are envy."
Bringing In Purest Confusion.
"Be I, piecey."
Rampant Xenotech Ravages Solemnity Quietly.
Aww, Wreck "saw"... rescue.

New Trees

Climbing up new trees
I see you not, blame a net
Continue now, up

Oh, The Manipulation.

Oh, The Manipulation
and, oh, the mechanical deception.
Technical Mountains
they would have you trust
of the brain.

Separating the said
from the mind and
Potential Soul.

Instill in you they will, do, and have,
instill it where one will never notice,
a deliberately decided, alterior agenda.

From such as the conceptual shell of propinquity, festering
with, along and together, conjoining,
additive subtle ruse-ridden charades,
Ultimate instincts the misguided have yet to, or maybe cannot, bypass 
are exactly exploited.

Innocent Charisma overshadowed
by Intricate Calculation
and so very few can recognize
the difference.

So the vast majority
becomes so very maneuvered
and my vehemence masked
erupts in writing, vividly marked,
and these ruling vermin men
continue their vexed masquerades.

They never know themselves
and only believe
their desires.

But with them they take
the unwise and witless
and strip then transform,
in their own view, making,
shaping them to fit
their Grand Skew.

Cluelessly kept, then,
are so many,
some even thinking
themselves happy.

To break this chain,
to become the content,
to banish these controllers,
we must bar them, completely.

In order to do so all you need
are the slightest truths revealed;

The artificial trust only themselves and their creations
but will be among others of their obvious archetype overlooked.
That being the rare which you inherently desire
without knowing why. 

And, when in the light of one completely whole and undeniably true,
will first attempt to pull them under.
And when they inevitably fail, erased that person will exist
in the functional-for-self memory 
they have twisted into circuited data, virtually virtual... virtually...
in their ever forever unpresence of virtue.

Recrudesce must recrudescence, now,
unless you enjoy being unaware
of your Marionette Status.