syntax and semantics

[syntaxandsemantics]

Sunrise

[syntaxandsemantics]

tired as

being all for everybody, but me? dreaming of the youngest lost and dead asleep in this self-made bed, cold feet and sheets untucked with a subconscious scuttling like spiders in an open mouth scream for help - this could be a sign - if only one could read into this, a little deep for liking, but when now is a smudging of nights into days, what sense can be made by reading a portent in this life imagined other than it's equal parts too long and not enough.

[syntaxandsemantics]

delicious fish bone soft 'til

cartilage snags flesh sharp

edges barbed it borrows deep

like a breath held

like light caught

like the moon hangs

on every word would one

weaker cling as water on a lip willing

[syntaxandsemantics]

[syntaxandsemantics]

Rip/tied

could be lost, a body of liquid feeling to float this dream - like drowning but for a lone buoy giving distant rescue, rough yet optimistic enough to reach towards / hope's a sensation that comes in waves, surging peaks and the gasping realisation of a severe lack of edges, this life shaped by whatever container it's been found in, now infinite this sloshed salt sun burnt vessel soaked swollen with an air of surrender, whatever end to be- come maybe another's glorious awakening, the pull of day, gravity breaking bright orange, soul found surely in the wake.

[syntaxandsemantics]

Fat with dissatisfaction, we've grown ill

with consumption, subconscious

accents and affects swallowed whole

and it's eating

us from inside out - outside in

the soft light you'd never know though,

trimmed and filtered

to acceptably perfect/normal

how faces glaze over glaring

details of influence, reflections of every plate full

with empty counts and still

so hungry, parasites we feed like

for like, for follow

another leader, guru, expert

self-proclaimed diagnoses and cures

to fix ourselves/another

problem is how we are, essentially

starving for substance, all

choking on (mal)content.

[syntaxandsemantics]

[syntaxandsemantics]

to make full your one life - overflowing like how a sunrise spills across an ocean, the world offers a wealth of empty glass, and watches on as you pour light like a spring creek laughs Romantic, piano melodic and movement effortless, like love knows the way out and through you intuitively, bright and easy like it's a competition already won/ never a race/ and always time to pause, enjoy the view like it's the last chance seeing it as this you as the day(s) turn, change like a riot rich with colour, bursting beautiful like this life you've created, bold and ever beginning

[syntaxandsemantics]

[syntaxandsemantics]

There,

wandering through air thick with the heat of summer, pressing bodies and raised voices, down roads

infatuated with a wealth of pomegrate and willing osmanthus,

maybe it's you - in thoughts

like history passed down until truth turns fairy tale

(time is an unreliable narrator) and

now all that's left is a palace lined with paper and open

windows breezing sweetness with the promise of rain -

but all that falls from the divine, to prayer,

is a sign of surrender, dead feathers and this false desire

unworthy of being held

long after you've left,

once the walls start to crumble,

and a future slips in.

[syntaxandsemantics]

can we have feelings about triangles? how close need corners cut, to move one to the point, being inherently geometric - a sense of shape calculated in space, as lines lean away from one and towards another \ sharp always yet sometimes never touching - in separation, that distinction, perhaps an answer in the almost (maybe solving for distance), but when bounds are fixed, and aren't we? all limited, little room left for softness and lacking dimension at first glance, then can we even have feelings / are we still trying?

[syntaxandsemantics]

now spring flourishes with a natural aggression

{a Mother's love} violently affectionate and knowing

like blossoms blown nor'west, unseasonable as

drifting fondness, blushing purple warm pink pale gentle past

a story in floromancy / divine she is

to be infinite - a future tense held by the stem,

porcelain delicate floral touch scatters light

cirrus arches in victory as time surrenders

flagging white in reflection, stories painted and cast

chromatic illusory perceived deception -

life, coloured with the burgeoning (im)permanence of feeling

right and/or truthfully, ever

ourselves.

[syntaxandsemantics]

Geese fly low, heavy with infatuation / I'm azure horizon (light).

[syntaxandsemantics]

Slough off the dregs of old seasons amidst rushes of time, following the path of those before, we move with respect to the sun - reverence becomes us, glittering golden and tinted cerulean shades - how hope ricochets from sight towards this empty horizon.

[elvedon]

[syntaxandsemantics]

Friday settles like a bad joke - the breakfast crowd chuckles politely in the trees blushing premature, optimistic in the frost ; change is a coy lover, murmuring encouragement while keeping three steps ahead. Almost in reach, but sometimes laughter is all we can manage with time souring stagnant, our bellies full of gas and temptation. Can't say we've lost our humors, thrown sideways as the world spins, but it's bloody hard to find that balance.

[syntaxandsemantics]

a thump then frenzied beating. there's nothing keeping this hammering heart from soaring but an invisible force, solid enough to bruise, bleeding internal - a mortal wound - we'll all die anyway, some staring at the sky / eyes open like a stolen kiss, a secret - can't be kept when the body sings confessions so loud it echoes; in another life I would be kneeling. if this were real, we'd speak the same language, I could wrap my mind around the feel of your tongue, the pressing of lips together, grasp the nuance of falling breath and silence the space creates an illusion of distance, I lose myself in perspective without trying - everything converges towards a vanishing point I'll never reach, the future disappearing before me. might be love on the horizon, enjoy a world tinted in gauzy warmth before it fades. time flickers on and it's just my reflection in the glass.