…lightfast
existence, a radiant heart, so mythic, so relatable: a sofa mind, a shrubbery
wheel, or too much creativity: so religious those days, at something resistant,
or something ineffable: pulled for drastic, so concerned, so easily at
blueprints: a slight war, at inner negotiation, pleading for acceptance: such
rooted denial, unable by clarity, presuming something forgiving: this kleptic
hell, to have lost existence, where hands were filthy: so hard to distinguish,
by various winds, so struck with silence: to receive more, ever than one gives,
where disaster promised its kiss: rebuilt but dragging, in this pond of venom,
and holding our breaths: such quicksand islands, such sound and song, at something
too estranged to redeem: a marbled yoke, a breaking mask, while one hates for
one sees: this ousted clown, this heinous cartoon, at black silence: at mass or
minister, at wine or blood, at wafer or body: feeling cursed, removed from
lights, while life is dominate: dripping nerves, pulsating veins, or
hypertension: this crazy island, this outrageous paint, while something has
claimed peace: that dirty trail, those shattered bones, those flesh wounds:
indeed, we part ways, replay our cards, while seducing harmony: those gliding
swans, this internal renaissance, at glory, pain, and redemption….
...saffron
rain, orange skies, and burgundy horizons: to placate irony, to feel ashamed,
while, nonetheless, others are chancing Infinity: terrible cries, those
particular photographers, where, in spite of performance, one keeps those first
pictures….
…so
much ambition, a bit tired, while forced to wade water: our bathing spirits,
our former selves, while tracked and treaded into memorizations: our souls with
caves, as Spartan warriors, so accursed for sinning, so accursed for winning:
so shredded, so sparkled, reknitting twigs: those mental photos, those ceiling
reminders, while years turn into music: either softer sounds, or blaring
shards, so deceased trekking horizons: remodeling caskets, redeemed in parts,
so forced and challenged by angst: at mind-yards, or head-flames, so nestled,
so cuddly, but purely vicious: those sick plans, to ruin something clean, while
angered for unforgiveness: in tender time, in tender waves, a man becomes a
memory: etched into skies, painted into churches, and immortalized as
forgotten: such semblance, at purer reigns, knitted at sun-storms: limelight
beauty, or mystic rain, so blessed through curses: at pains forever, while finding
joys, so attached to something fading: our choice to dance, our cabinets with
victuals, our hearts with terror….
…by
campfire pledges, or inner city oaths, something must give: to imagine brains,
dangling by wires, a bit serene in deaths: looking at life, performed and
languishing, at such a perfect party: comparing lives, a bit by envy, while
others are circumspect: such a war, while envied likewise, debating something
fabricated: our stardust screams, those ravishing downpours, so undone, so
unsung: another person’s wings, as hitchhiking bandits, such a gumdrop passion:
at workable feelings, or unworkable existence, while forced to persevere:
children watching, glue sticking, and fleeing if possible….
…bodies
speak clearly, while eyes are hidden, into something it felt heaven: needing a
brain-cage, refocused and screaming, where madness runs a corner afar: so
demonized, so returned, while senders are curious: so gothic at times, so
abstract at times, or so confused by behavior: postmodern men, at medieval
castles, related as something uncouth: if Love must perish, we die as colors,
we resurrect as lightning: our jetpacks, our terrible illusions, while
something fictional became an obsession: our split-screens, those simultaneous
feelings, while we hate in order to love: our chosen masters, our lively
carnivals, so upbeat, so downtrodden, at something alive a miracle: scribbled
upon paper, drinking ink, fueled and flamed and favored: but days took so long,
pains became indelible, plus, years were lost: a terrible toothache, a
sweetened reality, while hell trespasses: our longer walks, our bifocal
glasses, at pages speaking metaphors: so sought, so remembered, while something
has become insufferable….
