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prologue (denial):

a Shadow, running self.

Self, a mere shadow of:

Reality, shadow Lights:

everything. This is past.

i. (bargaining:)

Car rides thru time:

Time passes us by—

Asleep at the wheel

move to take over—

Over: Now, here: then.

Fleeting images, beauty

captured in the Lights

Opposing traffic cast

ii.

upon melancholic chords.

—Chords: Harmonious Dissonance;

—Dissonance: harmony at odds with:;

self: an entire orchestra within solitary;

(depression:)

notes: symbols of meaning, without;

—meaning: only when it is held dear;

—meaningless: everything we hold;

dearly, want not: need less, dear;

and yet: deeply felt, a want to—

to need: but what of want? We need—

we need: to want more easily— gone—

i. (acceptance:)

why must We accept the World as it is?

Truly, an UnFair World? An UnFortunate

World: the souls of all Humanity, even when

—soundless, aharmonious, casualties without.

(grief:)

—to accept your Medicine,

Read: the labels, disregard what?

self: need’s, aspiration’s, want’s in what?

order: a sense of.

our chaos.

Epilogue.

#poem #oc #ochlocracy #crushed

Lying in my comforter—

I asked a question,

Who am I to comfort her?

Relying in my comfort of her,

She replied an answer—

Never forevermore

Awaking on a cold pillowed throne

Threw up an alarm's call— witches' work!

Cauldron befallen— my enchantress gotten

Bells rang out affirmation!

Walking up the sleepy castle grounds

Sighted siren's rings— clanging expertly

Arose a caution of correctness

To cease, to be not relentless

Hearts Beaten Fight

Heartbeat fights gravity desperately

Downwardly goes sanguine urges to rise

Eyes torn down by tearing up endlessly

Fighting to lie— pressure spreading too thin

Rolling over to let the feeling ferment

Swallowed in to an upset stomach

Find that you walk amongst dead souls

We both exist not of life but saintly roles

Withstanding what the pulses force

Footprints kiss of normal forces of the ground

The knock of nocturnal normalities grand

Drum against the door to find no reply

My heart is a camera

Every pulse takes a picture

Each beat a shutter click

Painful pangs aperture

Heartbeat fights gravity

Sanguine urges refusing

Normal forces of ground

Sealing our fates away

Reaching out to you

Never been easier

Knowing I missed

Millions of photos

#oc #poem #poetry

To the turtle dove that listened

I called upon of for a vision

From her throne, not a prison

Dangerously steels collision

Thrown perfumed poison—

rings seen later—

Clearly, why deny— I'll rate it—

Half the exercise is writing

The truth is that our fates are

Rapping on a nightly door

Not intermingled nor coincide

Yet we do much to hide—

We never had decided.

#poem #oc #poetry

Stated desire fraught, what'ing care's lair

Lines paralyzed through fibrous intentions,

Of tendrilous prizes shipped of unheeded

Legalese upon the sea breeze, unto danger

seen upon the screen of dark parallelograms

Founded of a spiritual ambition to never break volition, I wandered through a garden full of ultra-colored visions.

The gardener was no mere magician, she was a restless sorceress, a sanguine goddess: sacrificing her body to her soul to enjoy the flowers bloom.

She had no power over others, rarely any over herself-- yet that sanguiness' words could direct the rivers to flow uphill from their home, the birds love song to call only in silent tones, and for dayrise to break in dissonant groans.

Each rose, a code, each petal a word, each delicate assembly of thorns: a sword. She had constructed dozens of armies, with battlements ready-- yet did not call for war.

The garden's pearls came in perils, of pedaling the metal spun gold turned ordinary stone. Yet she grew entire bushes faster than it took for a single petal to disconnect and fall an infinite distance, merely inches from the ground.

I tried to capture these sights of simple extraordinary concentration of a splendid oracle, and found as I delicately tore away a single petal the entire space seemed to shrink.

Took the petals that had fallen and rearranged them into a poem, and yet found one spelling was broken.

Her spells always were the most ornate things, the way she could turn a scroll from ordinary page into a concatenation of reasonous meaning.

The ability to construct a garden from nothing except bottled starlight and belief in an end to the weakened feelings of discontented pain.

The most interesting sight was where the flower's most violent warriors had declared mutiny and damaged her visage of beauty—

Those most wanton destroyers had nothing to show for it, simple drops of blood upon a crimson rose does nothing but empower it—

Perhaps that was and is her greatest ruse, that she is powerfully powerless, simply a posing princess of the queen— not even a marionette but still a human being—

She was being— endlessly— in every drop of water I drank i could sense delicacies of her pain, teardrops and pinpricks upon our stage.

#oc #poem #inspired

Invested in restless nights

I sat in my bed, began to write...

Righting's wrongs of my day,

Much to speak, yet bright stage

Without entrancement's knight

A puppetmaster upon her pages

Staging upward his marionettes

We began to have lovely chats

That of finance, politic, and cats

He said we are too quick a, judger

What of discerning which strings pulled?

She said never witful enough to plunge—

Feeling tired, I took a walk to my pool

'Twas green and shiny, like grassy jewels—

Minutia deciding their luck is through

Realized too late; was only one scale

Emerald dragon bewared: playing with dolls

never has a nasty cause, it paused—

Not like that, doll, you hardly even see— saw

She commits no crimes, we are the law

Took intrepid flight— back in my hometown

Only to find zoologists there, interpreting

My sights, my mind, my delights of fraught

Asked the oracle for her thoughts....

#oc #poem #observatory #christened

Handed me a script, I defined it as value, cashed out too early. Cared not for costs or prices, of priceless knots and costly niceties— easily would have paid double for avoidance of tragic endings.

Knew naught of what I’d done, only heard of what was sung. The moon rose asking a star for reflection, of diamondlike perfection. The grasping of straws sucking at lightning, funneling into filings.

Obliged to find hatred within lovely words, asked for an unbinding spell. The witches and wizards told of such hell, when it came to love poisons. To venomously inject, cowering at the doorframe, framing attention cowardly.

As ordinary as ignoring— not asking, not pouring, justly forwarding. Routine maintenance may exist within friendly questions found in ignorance. But, space is infinite, infinite in scary detail but finite within tales, of scales—

Dragons bewared even the whales, while Elephants have long memories— The deep sea creatures do not see enemies, they already are treacherous; Being less acquainted with small talk, they only feel the boats as they rock–

Rolling against coal’s fire, they asked again: do you care, of me, overt desire? Scripture stated quite clearly: do unto others as their cheekiness does unto thee; Lovely guilt described the pain, the pangs upon caged pages of inert phages—

Bacteriophage eat up their rage, their sadness still lingers internally, mightily, Mitochondriacally defined the cell as a prison, impersonated a deadly visage—Called upon the quiet self, asked without: how can we check the list unseen?

Wistfully wishing upon wise visions: pleas of anarchistic antimony– To be shrouded within the pain of soft hurt, over shaded meant cuts of violence—

#oc #prose #overtly #cathartic

One day passed.

But, since a year last,

circumnavigate easily

our playground’s past:

weekly learning latin and greek

while she gave simply to my errors

gentle winks: Weakening my desires,

flame only grew brighter, menacing

manacles burnt tearlessly:

Shackles of being— just—

a bare babe, a boy, of

meaning unheard

women scorned flinchingly

unward felt; downward staged

just lucky to listen to lady's

omens of bugs play

upon deadly siren song of going wrong—

what was it to be a part of ourselves?

Swearing’s sanctified through atypical

sacrifice— Thought seas kept us apart,

Through them was a matter of mishearted

meanings— Ove' misconstrued reasoning— of

unintended believer’ing— beautifully neatless

— Neatfully beautyless, her sprint was dread,

Dropped dead before the gunshot sounded off

with coughs, Instead felt fine until saw her

cross the finish line. Asked of him: When? Did

you begin? To drift, to think, we were ourself?

Answered in measures, meterically endeavors:

To be set free is the fee of love, to leave is the

drug we seek, to continue Loving without

knowing the Damage we reaped.

Monsters, ghouls, zombies too–

We create dangerous beings in search

Of meaning, of meant, of dead

dread drenched in sweet sweat of—

Benched rest,

of kidless

childhoods

experienced

through

re-Living

within graceful

sleepiness.

#oc #poem #obvious #court show

a heart joked is a quaint

object, two hearts intertwined

goes toward iconic-- countless hearts

Exist within mindless debts of Z's unread

as A was the first and last consideration

of fox and overly intrepid pup's vast

losses, mining cupidity's P's & Q's

of rhymeless ditties and time--

less shimmies, stated clearly

continue on past the gimmick—

show that it's not just a mimic of

magick unfound within lightened caverns

but only slowed inside of villainous peaks and edge-

ing onward after a fall

Don't worry, the rain

it settles here

and up here too

but mostly below

kissing

the'ing the screen

End

But

The

Curr-

Ent runs

Faster there: beware

You may be sucked righ-

Tintintabulation of acc--

ounce of trailed queerly

back to writing like nothing

even happened between the screen

and the words eyes scrolled so ceaselessly

Sweetness licoriced with savory, savor the bitter.

I drink my coffee no cream, no sugar, not ice,

Over time it gets softer, sweeter, colder.

Pixelated cages of hearts' inner rages

Streams and flows of holy smokes

Quenched at first but coals only know

That fire exists not of flame but energy

To bat an eyelid, to fan the flame, tis not

any man's simple game. I may be hottest

when suggesting modest coffins

of diminished rotting lockings

But to be unlocked, to be free

That's the greatest fee-- to be paid

in equal measure, heartitudes great

endeavor-- what's in an icon, is simple

mis-persuasion-less pictographology

asked of a love Nothing, and

Everything but loved Friendship'

shipments put forth not anything—

as a simpleton of engineering,

constructed brackish mortaring—

uncovered that tears of molds hold

found that i am never not enough—

She was always anything else, but

was He: nothing nor a thing, naught all—

Beholden to each other ceaselessly

yet we let, of each other, fall meaningless—

within an abyssal call— answered seriously:

seldom does a self

defy the light of paradise—

yet did we— forgot mirages are real—

cliffside faces ship at sea.

leg against rock, stone inks

soft intention of ending brines

fires’ descendants burn naught’

sugar, ignited easily— melts

watered woods, delight— salted

earth, grows beneath unbearing

wounds, never healed— merely mend.

Rainfalls' gentle warmth

taps upon a hearth,

a dearth of blazes’

pages, burnt.

medium, distanced,

sounds “beware:,”

cackles: “choking

“smoke—

“is exhaled lightly—“

night breezes mindfully

Incensed feelings

dictate flames fall

cyclical: aquatic

noise'ed rings:

purposelessnessed.

barely a planned

climb, finds times

tremors of earth

dictate schisms

the ocean,

its sultry

—

portrayed as

simple salt

aquati-cism

#pricked by a sharp softness #poem #oc

bipolar-jester

Even if we arent married—

aren’t are lives connected in infinity?

Our destinies, intertwined?

You are across the globe and

yet left nothing behind

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