Let Me Tell of No More

hope

like humankind
is truly
the cruelest

if not all too usual

like a challenger deep
i could have easily
inhabited the trenches
of the great mariana

if left to my own devices

in a steady stream
of entropic existence

this, is not to say
that my soul would not
seep through the fissures
absconding to hellfire
in iron-core iconoclasm

my chosen paths
are minded with honors
and badges

it’s the acclimatization
and the stayed deprivation
that stave off the gravest of fates

. . . to be stricken
with the malignancy
of minded emotion
in the spur of the moment

to. . . argh

to, ~ f e e l ~.

for when i do
dimensions cry, uncle

as my watery ways

shear gaping rifts
through the planes of perception

. . .

i dwelled in detachment

living tortuous death

every breath a burden anew

but at least i knew~

now, time has wrought trickery
upon my soul’s dispossession

and the distance which spans
amid consequent disparity

has displaced my consciousness
landing a final blow
upon all i have known

rent by the unspent
tempestuous
turbulent
fervid
and festering
the influx of blustering
bombast so drastically
thrashing my breast

an impetuous
press against her lips
precious

all the years of my life
have always belonged
to her

this, i know
will inhabit my bed of dirt
when i greet the insect hordes

but more than just this
it was the mistle-streaked
visage since sallow and sullen

the culminating of hearts
acquiescing

a lifetime flashed before me
in that briefest of respite

much like a comet streaks
through a burst sky

only now

had its tail ensnared
the pulsating mass
fresh from my chest

and thus it was shot to the sun
in an instant

and such elucidation
diffused forces known

as gravity left me
to fall back to earth

nothing
can tell
of the ghastly descent
whence i combusted
to dust
from the old familiar sphere
of atmos and mir

thunderous crashing
i plunged into depths
the source of eternity’s tears
ever felled

in an instant
they passed through me
like ghost particles
colliding

i can no longer abide
let me now stay my tongue

take my leave
for this grievance
shall venture no more

boring all
like the sting
has bored holes
where my eyes once beheld–

let me tell
of no more

[image credit: Tess of the Storm Country (1922) featuring Mary Pickford]

Dissevering

 

never were worlds so condensed

 

crushing sounds of chaos crashing

 

the eve of shattered shells

shackled in rippling clamor

torn beyond arm’s length

 

bracing memories of bartered being

the aching void of absent panacea

 

toiling for passage

the sting of earned lament

 

forthwith abandoned

to stations conflicted by minds unsound

long trodden in tumult’s refrain

 

what burdens we carry in these chains we so cherish

fighting the sins born of heaven

hammering down upon hapless casts of dissevering clay

 

complexions so fragile

never straying from the vaulted eden of  sanity’s mind

 

ceaseless hordes

in planate procession

 

fools fraught with erstwhile fixation

betraying the worth of the words carved unyielding

 

through the infamy of torrid tempest

feigned in fluster

with haste, forgotten

 

but some flourish ephemeral

 

~querabus in acquiescence

nonpareil without parallel~

 

sweltering seamen scout the echoing seas

to plunder the gifts of god’s glory

 

treasures unknown

to inhabit our hearts

 

belying these stagnant disfigured illusions

 

should gentle grace ameliorate

and the rapids arrive at a quietus lull

 

-they say voices spout melodies stealing the wind-

 

and here,

this pen spreads jilted verse with piteous affectation

in shades of redundant avowal

 

this, the pilfer of poets and priests

only in the threads of ethereal thought, does truth reign

 

neither bound by scientific bane

nor beholden to  idle slight of ideal

 

the essence of knowledge sublime

 

that we find the one

and the other in spirit

when realms of spent flesh beckon nigh

 

we shall yet persist      –      in tether and thyme

 

the warmth of unspoken goodwill

stirs the ocean’s heart humble

like the fiery swells of our wounded earth’s rain

 

a feeling which none are to have known

ere we wander into the borealis of the soul’s aura

 

wading into the florid confluence

to taper off in eased undulation

neath the umbral sway of a burgeoning berth

[image credit: Tallmadge Doyle]

Expire & Expel

our path has been chosen
by extrinsic forces
of dubious nature
on dangling carrots

posture and pith
from prostrate pathologies
intended to mend
fallow marrow maligned

strike hard
with thy naked appendage
impetuously

rend the high heavens
to tend thy text of crimson

cringing
in sidelong assumption

asserting to assuage the rage
riling others

a scythe
guarding blighted complexions

inflections of fiction
and lucid diffusion

confused by fuel pilfered
resourcing fates fiery

blazoning skies with effusion askew
by shadows eschewing
a charlatan’s love song

of sins inquisitioned
petitions since signed
all by silent submission

a wish begets naught
fraught with wisdom so dismal
appointed of self

sitting high
upon thrones of a thornless affliction

depicted tribunals of perilous impugn
and ruinous lexicons
hewn e’er anew

in lieu of a logic
no worth would lament for

to bellow the testaments
wrists sworn to masters

whose mustered perceptions predate precedent
predation of prideful impasse
nigh persistent

en masse and en vogue

as vague as eroded engravings
bestowed upon visages
vaunting of stark raving fools
who once gave up reason

sought e’er to appease
the internalized treason
with a tepid trepidation

to rectify constructs
through statues erected

their muse left neglected
bereft of the conquest
left factious
to sift through the sands
of said infidels fallen
reign of silt
failure-tainted

by tales, none can tell
if by audience quelled
spelled out involuntarily
vomit omitted

spit self-evinced victors
cresting lecterns ghost-flecked
by cleft-tongues cloaked most wicked

a sickness of man’s
heedless witness to warring
swarms breeding unbridled
imbrued with the bloodshed

a branding on blemished hands

time had forgotten

winced seconds
with soul rot
whence witlessly wrought

by savages sowing the brood
of their breast
by the roost of its beast

and dawn’s spawned beset by the wresting
with excess
and behest projected
of a faceless god’s
faith lost in fluster and fostered

through dreams none have seen
reach the gates of fruition

chagrin nestles parchment
from bouts sprayed with sanguine
mouths dripped
dropped agape

spewing greatness insisted
insipid as crackled paint
curling to a crumble

yet no lesser humble
addressing the sun

this purposeful refuse
usurped a prone species
whose pieces now pepper

the crusts of the cosmos
and corners of orifices
set to greed’s sating

beheading the state
of our sanctity stolen

and sanctioned existence
exiled to expire
and expel

[image credit: Sergius Hruby]

Silent Speech

a broken shard of charcoal

will it prove enough to make a man?

when you fold into submission
sighting inference of slight
exacting of your ego’s wrath
upon those thought to interfere

we are all born hypocrites
and so it is that we shall perish

rue the day this truth desists
and pride usurps devised discretion

trumpeter of shadowed triumph
sowing seeds of condemnation
woven with such ornate bombast

propped up by a hollow victim
ever to avail their own

bleeding hearts
are blind with succor

leaving truth to fates unknown

tragedies will find appointment
at the behest most emphatic
negligently inundating
standers-by with self-accord
unafforded
sordid with a dubious deliberation

sortie of self-indulgence

nevermind the sadist fallout
calling out in silent woes

left behind to mind the mayhem
bearing eyes of the observer
patient, with a prudent penchant

knowing time
reveals all

[image credit: Anna and Elena Balbusso]

Omega Man Rap

at times when feeling ‘noir
it pains’ me deeply
and i wish to obscure
my ‘sexier pons’

my ‘cat id irony’
fails to suffice
for ‘rarely it’ ‘insists i belie’
my ‘equine data’
and the ‘bicep alias
it’ no longer works

when ‘stoic ideas’ become ‘ornate libel’
i turn ‘to repine sunsets’

airing as ‘funded glib’ ‘pelt art’
‘erred as’ a ‘cynic soul opus’
of ‘incredible sin’

however ‘spurious
trite’ i pray it not

for ‘i toil in gray’ skies
to ‘escort earth’ with ‘hemp at rose’

to deliver a ‘cad edited’ ‘cat encomium’
and ‘obtain focus’
so that i may ‘convert pities’
from ‘scour units’ and ‘Soviet barons’

because ‘grease enables’
‘tin men to impale’ the ‘rift outed’
by my ‘Scorpio intent’

*see comments for key

Kinda Sounds Like Discourse~ [AKA Vice Rod]

what can i say

i want the D

never had i dared to dream

this day would come

with thoughts of the D

running through my mind
like a Benny Hill credits roll

you see
the D is a most powerful force

it springs life anew
and mitigates longstanding burdens

it cleaves entire entities in twain
and leaves chaos in its wake

but in that fluster
of blustery skies and structure askew

i shall rise triumphant
brandishing the proof of the D
for all to behold

she proved herself
prone to imprudence
and impetuous impulse

and so began my arduous journey
in search of the D

for i knew
that my very salvation

could only begin

with a solidified D in hand

wait wait wait!

~what did you think i meant?~

pervert.

[image credit: Nicolaes de Bruyn, Frederik de Wit]

Not Even Death

and here we are
yet living
on this eve of lost idyll

i am no more able
to feel your touch
than sorrowed skies retreat

the passing hours
grow ever darker
my lair has turned to dust
unsettled

roaming on this plane
alone
in search of any senseless reason

the more i look
the more i find
my mind is but a distant ruin

littered with the consequence
of time’s relentless ire

as truths unravel
by its hands
extending far beyond
the grave

where now
not even death
can stand to save us

Stoic Submission

even now
when thoughts of her
affronting love’s convention
have shuffled off
the consequence
befalling our mistake

do trails tell truth
of hours attending
context tread anew

disavowing fated remnants
lingering devoid of interest
bleeding web of understanding
weeping reaped
sown of her seed

in retroactive disillusion
memories become unraveled
like the sutures
faintly tethering us
at the tearless seam

so it seems
as days unfolding
shattered moulds
tinged with decay
hinging on pending perspectives
shifting lights shine
fears display

in the barren sands of ruin
truant cheeks
turned weak of will
baring thoughts i pray not bear

surrendered to stoic submission

The Sleepless Hour

drowning
in the darkness

silence
rests upon her lips

i long
to lift my leaden head

paralyzed
by thoughts of living

seconds drifting
in and out
from borrowed backgrounds

sitting in the circle
of regret
and rotting earth

thoughts of her
tormenting
pages shorn
to show an ending
spurned

still
her laughter echoes
through the frigid nights
of empty air

poisoned
by the voiceless peril
slithering through
meadows maddened

striking with a force
unfounded
never was her kiss
denied

but shallow whispers
lay awake
to court the
shadow’s song of ruin

through the forest
whence we stumbled forth
to greet the sleepless hour