Time is not moulded clay
Meant to cradle impermanence
It moves with freedom
Minds cannot discern
We tread upon its trails, intrepid
Trivialities of atrophying form
Availed of all that falls before us
Envisioned of our own volition
Bound by realm of rusted blood
Etched in scrawling strewn askew
Washed away as whitened waves
Scorching scant displays of squalor
Songs of stringed structure lull
Swallowed by such forces fervent
Fraught with thoughts of relevance
And promised flights of light anew
To Exist
Chaotic echoes linger from distant realms
All that has existed in this patch of land
Exists now in the absence of time
In between every extreme contained within the spectrum
Moments thought to diminish, yet languish in the void
Intangible essences endlessly spiral inward
All progression remains relative to the mind
Molded by our perception’s indoctrination we stumble onward
In futility we grasp at pieces we no longer see
Time is the abstract mechanism that diminishes all
Helpless are we to protest its insistence
Haplessly deconstructing the construct of existence
All that is at once is as good as naught
Fraught with fantasies of infinite repetition of consciousness
But particles disperse and coalesce without prejudice
Through visions evolving, dissolving with precision
We ponder with purpose what the surface conceals
Revealing only that which we can comprehend
Bound by our own paltry perspectives
The perpetual plight of reflective introspection
Through inflections of or intrinsic inability
Sharing Is Caring:
O Muse Sublime
o muse of trembling ardor
perched upon what precipice
wax adoring or abhorring
beauteous capricious wisp
beckon thoughts to naught surrender
fleeting free fall fraught with flame
solace in reckless abandon
consequence of hazard aim
intervals hail flippant airs
qualms aloof and proof left scorned
paradox of quine requiem
to what behest dost now adorn
Sharing Is Caring:
Fiery Heaps of Discontent
our natural state is co-existence
arriving, all in perfect form
from that day, we learn to distance
taught by self-appointed norm
time-honored dishonoring
through indoctrination learned
tethered by these ancient moorings
solitude of bridges burned
manmade isles of ire and loathing
fiery heaps of discontent
slowly yielding, never knowing
boundless love for which we’re meant
subtle cues, environment
as mechanisms meant for coping
affected on our countenance
now give rise to interloping
with external arbitrary
attributes to draw the distance
truth remains a cautionary
tale that suffers sung in silence
Sharing Is Caring:
Idealist Interface
every word
reflecting inward
withers
as these waters wane
muted thoughts
have wrought this ward
diffusing
ardent utterance true
festering in chambers
dormant
chained by anguish
bound in brood
prodding pretense
peals abandon
sans preceding
pages hewn
strewn throughout
in pigments pallid
plaints invalid
savage rue
Sharing Is Caring:
A De-winged Fly Fixed In Brief Repose
on wavering wrest
against mirrored walls erring
spuriously spinning infinitesimal
entangled silken fractal
whelming accursed manacle
of urgent whims cast
inexorably whorled
a de-winged fly fixed
in brief repose
sinuous lamellate shifting
enkindling extricate forge
wrought with exigence
vermillion amative arils
on piste of glistened pist
oping obsidian sky fall
of ephemeral owl
and howling wraith
Sharing Is Caring:
In Doubt Have We Forsaken All
Emerging at the worn divide
Torn with surging feelings
Forcing purging of things concealed
Stinging urges of surreal consequence
Stoically stowed with eloquence
Eluding the known self
Burrowing with blinded foresight
With mind of spurned course
Cheek turned, to face surreality
Burned bridges, blackened annealing
Annul the shackles bound to honor
Honed in hindsight, alighting home
Palindromic dominion of scorned conscience
Obsessive arbitrations mold mountains
In mundane progression in vain and valence
Visage now pallid, invalid throughout
In doubt have we forsaken all
Every fiber, mired by machinations manmade
In prophecies fulfilled by self sacrifice
Compliant with secession and sacredness surrendered
Descendent no longer through sentient states
Relentlessly pondered this basement ascent
What stasis has stricken a heart stalwart
Now felled as the four walls once bracing
Sharing Is Caring:
When Hours Watched My Hands Do Nothing
Wandering through a wastrel’s wasteland
Waist deep in my own submission
Balsam wafting soft and balmy
Etched comforts in hues familiar
Flailing aimlessly, distorting the output
Sorted seasons claim the sands
When hours watched my hands do nothing
No rush to catch the fallout
No push appealing parable
Crushing complacency
Whispers speak of lost dimensions
Mentions of mistaken meaning
Sent to distant dusty darkness
Now forsaken from the list
Kissed with known fate fulfilled
In the dance that framed the fire
Swaying ever free from doubt
Routing race of natural movement
Sand to joint on moment’s cue
Pointing to the smallest hand stroke
Squandered in a squalid square
Sharing Is Caring:
Selful
Synthetic Eyes of Ghostliness
moments pass
without discretion
woolen tangerine yet blares
framed
as though it were alone
as i
when every tear
touched paper
those rising redwoods stand
aloft
stark in contrast
bark to flesh
an old friend’s triumph
over fallen redwood
ever forefront
his eyes still speak
to me
this day
subtle dreams
were left between
to foster love
less nuanced
even i cannot recall
in light
of geometric wrest
frozen
into false creation
stories cast upon
recall
life once ventured
beyond
the vague demise
captured
by synthetic eyes
of ghostly senses
Max, or Not 
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