I Prefer Not To.
fear
conforms
like a secondary
skin
of vitreous flesh
enshrouding
huddled masses
in layers
of fragile
impenetrability
like a renegade
chrysalis
invading
with masochistic
avail
inviting
every failure
to impale
verity’s parables
with
pithy
regale
the distant
droning
of undulate
whirring
persisting
shifting
into hours
the lonesome
shrill
of a room
filled with faces
whose failure
to listen
eclipses quietus
quashed
beneath the anguish
of this bedlam
mind
what darkness
familiar
yet follows
unfurling
the fears
of forgotten
infernos
unduly writhing
beneath twilight
reflections
in spite
of mountains
of might
air
bears no impression
for years
we watched
lying rigid
in piqued
anticipation
every time we looked
away
the day had since fallen
even still
do we burn
holes in the ceiling
retraversing every misstep
silence ever
bleeds eternal
on such
darkened eves
huddled
in the farthest
reach
of hidden
memories
barren conscience
lies below
where
shallow whispers
breathe
brandishing
the burdens
buried ‘neath
a bed of leaves
once
shone verdant
in their glory
now tinged
with decay
tucked
in scattered layers
singed
in tattered
disarray
everything
that mattered
faded
in a distant scene
drifting
into nonexistent
narratives
serene
pages bare
the words
unspoken
waging wars
unseen
wading
in the erstwhile
waters
wrought
with misery
edging
ever closer
to the air
which will grant
my final breath
until then
i am
wedged
between this
untold boulder
and life
unfolding
somewhere
along this wayward
path
i lost
the sum
of you
in broken
buttons
crumpled
papers
whispers
faintly
promised
to reflections
we once
bared
scattered
over trails
capricious
memories
thread precious
pleas
plotting
their escape
like petty fools
from plighted faith
parched
from implore
upending
thoughts
would mark
the path
that led me
to your vested
heart
when vagrants
sought
the stars
and charted
the descending
hours
of our last
reverie
rapt
in such despair
’til all
that i could
see
were driftless
streaks
of blackness
stripped
amid
the grip
of shame
unearthed
where flashing
shades
of pompeii
stayed
in grim dispart
impressed
upon
the distant
sky
estranged
a world
apart
To truly
Command
The acceptance
Of truth
With willful
Embrace
Of its burden
Of proof
And freedom
To think
With a presence
Of mind
Where no
Precedent
Lies
To boldly opine
Unfettered
Not tethered
To fear’s
Phantom mime
In weather
Tempestuous
Calming and kind
To choose
Paths shone
Virtuous
Of our
Volition
When faced
With the gravest
Of selfless
decisions
To look
Beyond
Boundaries
With sound
Sight
To see
Without our own
Ego’s affliction
We are free
To learn
From mistakes
We must bear
Consequence
Acknowledge
All factors
Of its circumstance
Whilst disregarding
Frivolous
Dalliance
And focusing
Efforts
On things
Relevant
To offer
Oneself
Without pretense
Surrendered
To harbor
No thought
Of contempt
Erring tender
Toward life
Which exists
Outside that
Of our own
Attending
The home
One should ne’er
Shore alone
To listen
So that we
Might then
Understand
The magnitude
Of all fates
Since wrought
By man
To requite
The status
Usurped
By frail men
That brazenly
Preaches
Of false
Creation
Casting such
Shadows
Whose ire
Knows
No bounds
The burden
All women
Are forced
To live
Down
For bearing
The gift
Men would
Deem to revere
Presented
Through patriarchs
Pandering fear
And once
Verity
Avails our
Conscious grasp
Our love
May be worthy
Of woman
At last
stifled
by the sound
of words
preserved
perched
in a madman’s
hallucination
of halcyon days
ere hope
had wintered
this vale
velleity
vanquished
its ceremony
in sermon
rescinded
from restive
err
[photo: Art Redwing & Alberta Kelm]
another day
another chance
to wallow
in this hollow
fetid shell
another dance
amid the fallout
of this self
constructed hell
forever burdened
by this curse
immersed in faded
aquarelle
ever is this
burgeoning dearth
fated
until i am
felled
wherein lies
the heart
of evocation
that strikes
the mirrored
hour’s toll
vague abstractions
courting fear
or starkness
of the bitter
cold
biting
with its sharp
precision
meteoric motes
of mind
reassemble consequence
once shed
in distant
folds of time
florid wafts
drift
through the ages
softer
than a maiden’s mien
torrid thoughts
slip
through the pages
faded laughter
aimless dreams
rage once pent
from whence forsaken
ageless
as a lover’s touch
brash and bold
our burdens
linger
longer than
the artist’s brush
Max, or Not 
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