Ode to Scutty’s Buns Revisited

mister scutty.

buns.

mine eyes take to sea
draped in black damask

ask, upon what merit

to what do i owe
thy fine mask of sinew

in shadowed remorse
i lay vexed

exquisite.

a freedom formed
born of toilsome task
such winsome,
this ass

grasping in folly
i falter, forlorn
this finest of fannies
far more than fixed eye
could e’er hold candle to

sand doth sift
and so shifts time

o buns of golden mote
i dote on this fire
to hold what is naught
but a phantom fandango
so taut with transgressions
in visions foretold

foreboding alabaster sheath
aglow
no, asunder
plundering depths
taste tears of sallowed vitae

were strength as a flower
this truth, seed and all
should fall as the hour
when tower doth beckon

thy buns!
thy buns!

o scutty!
skyward flesh effused
obfuscated realms of sordid sanctity

below is a shifting
uplift yea!
uplifting

muted trepidation
threat or compliance

lo, golden buns of stardust waver

o scutty!
buns that scintillate liquescent
‘neath the moonlight’s tremble

in cries of haute

wielding scepter

woeful rant of december ninth

it’s daunting how certain calendar dates will always haunt us as though to jauntily flaunt their wont to taunt us by sauntering in monty python-esque vaunting leaving us wanting to romp their gaunt face of nuanced incontinence that ought to get knocked off for airing intolerable for having brought up the thought that caused us to pontificate the fate wrought upon our existential provenance perpetrated by their aberrant lack of forethought and penchant toward dalliance from whence commenced the relentless onslaught of events that rendered my once surrendered and tenderest heart unmendable when it was dealt the torment of indelible dolor that then was denied us our requisite need pending urgently for venting with hell-bent intentions to transmute their countenance into convenient compartments to fit in a seedcoat indeed to be planted so that everyday we could then inundate its existence with chants of the pestilent waste of our years worth of tears having instilled new fears which had never before been our burden to bear because they did not care to veer far from the path e’er imparting the wrath of their crass importunes swiftly sealing our doom having nary just married and barely a groom with the newfound misfortune of wary intrude looming ominously in omnipresent brood deconstructing the flustered states of our distress questioning every instance of intimate caress with the last lover she should have ever undressed but our world has collapsed from the lack of regard held by rogue gigolos traipsing through my backyard but alas i digress lest my chest wrest this heart now bereft of the love that fluoresced like the stars no sooner to return to the ruinous remnants that went up in flames when you burned down the bridge that should e’er led us back home where our love had lived but we’re yet still alive writhing spiteful remains from the love once effusive imbrued by disdain from the rains of tumult in tempestuous skies e’er enduring to obscure the fate long denied but i’ve tried and i’m tired so again i must hide from the prideful contempt of the ire in your eyes though i rant and i rave we had both been to blame just two bedraggled husks near combusting with pain still i would never change even one single day in spite of my passe seditious display i would still grant the last word as yours now to say…

Blackened Sacrament

the sun’s searing plasma impressed upon layered soot
ashen like blight which bore forgone
familial foundation of fancied flight
what gratuitous gall with which you gloat
smote by your own self-endowed grandeur
wont that i should pander in groveling gratitude
surely you jest!
impressed, i stand
by the sincerity of your impaired self-regard
boldly going where eagles dare…
dare you seek to endear your ingratiating demeanor?
as droll as the lulling of culled sopor
toped up like tournaments of unreal inebriation
abrogating the constructs that sustained your slapdash composure
unraveling in disheveled disparity of the id and the superego forsaken
neatly tucked in vociferous sanctimony
thunderous echoes cry “philanderous phony!”
only to fall on deaf ears of porn

Fail

please don’t try to talk to me

can’t you see i just want to be left alone?

what’s makes you hold such regard

for the pleasure of you company?

are you suffering from communicative dissonance?

no, i will not look into your eyes

i did everything i could to avoid you

the audacity of your presumption appalls me

what unfathomable circumstance must you have suffered

to lead you to such a state of misapprehension?

why is it that you persist so ardently?

were you raised by a pack of wild wolves?

you’re precisely the reason i dare not venture out

it’s people like you that make it so

people like me cannot function in society

please stop talking

i’m not listening to a word you’re saying

don’t you have anything better to do?

how do you not understand this?

any person with half a mind would have gotten it by now

you must have it really bad for me

god! you’re so pathetic! please go away already!

now you’re really starting to piss me off

don’t make me do something we’re both gonna regret

that’s it! now you’ll understand what i mean once and for all!

i’m sorry what was that? your foot?

i’m standing on your foot?

why didn’t you just say so in the first place?

 

Precipitous Parting

i held you in my eyes of twine
heavy lidded, in heaven’s fallout

at the garden of impressioned impetus
were petals adrift of quelling aquarelle

destined for reveries resting on bezel
should rays of radiance concord

as does every elegy effuse essence
come astral flights of wastrel mien

crestfallen cries affecting acrimony
as chemicals crude, and ghost collide

solace sought in trails of tined stinging
when souls embark to hearken home

a breathless whisper winces wistfully
e’er stilled by stay of loss allayed

Defying Silence

fuck the ceiling, looming like tomorrow’s marquee
gaudy flashes from which i must turn
for within lies the ever-present artifice
skulking in dungeons of impulsion

fuck the floor, a cold mirage of hope
rife with arbitrary voids
no measured step bears relevance
pits of quicksand amid houred glass

fuck the door, weak and hingeless
prison cell of self-appointing or shielding from the shrill
one false waft of breath not bated
crumbling point of worlds divided

fuck the words, defying silence
skies of doubting look upon us
laughing in these measured steps
jarring with observant hues