Quaint Acquiescence Is An Obsequious Acquaintance

sentiments in repetition meant to vent with relevance
relinquish the varnish that tarnishes the vulgar tolerance
commence with imminence the absence of antiquity
for quaint acquiescence is an obsequious acquaintance
ubiquitous as though it may be, acclimation clings aloof
from roof to mountaintop rounding up with rallied cries
rising echoes sound of silent sorrows soon to beckon
why then try, as troubadour or rube of high demeanor
dubious depictions dangle like truths that fall no more
musing angles by which this ruse might inflict less feeling
stitching loosely by light revealing conflicts of duress
stealing strength from respite choosing no less than languish
eventual sediment in secluded stasis embracing lost artifice
weaved words of wont whimsy will quell this wells depths
in diligent delineations of dreary dreamscapes divulged

Blue Moon

in resilience these remnants remain
the furthest reaches of reality’s semblance
shattered and splintered
coherent and complete
amassing the breadth of the beyond
composed of truths intrinsically incomprehensible
subconsciously apprised of existential paradox
dispersing to absorb all aspects of astral inflection
mystical mosaics in resonant timbres
temporal tapestries of tapering ardor
byzantine dreams breathe fervid
flashes of sempiternity
our hearts, in rapture reside
in every tense and context
an eternal truth
as sure as the azure moon that binds us

Your Era So Golden

drawn out days of titian settling
the era’s closure drawing near
awkward affections shared passing
would soon become passion entwined

distant horizons of arid liquescence
ever eluding the focus we sought
erred, the inherent aplomb, never fathoming
fears since forsaken in faith fueled fires
torrential tirade, your era so golden
impressed in the brood of its wake

heartache bore into lavender walls
awaiting the moment with you in my arms
where were your words so wont to wax in wallow
how hollow the home of the world I had known

the dance of days that deceived us
the tumulted spires of spectacle
that stood to make valid the toil
our turmoil in vain

wading in waning , awash of the waters
where once we found cleansing

the wraith of your suffering
resigned us to this disavowed closure

this fragmented filament could forge in fine temperance
but vanity’s deference reigns
trudging through deconstructed dreams
razed of the memories maimed
unceremoniously unraveled
with unrelenting

To Etch Unto Mirrors of Flesh

vibrations, energy
pulsating vermilion reveling in the void
indolent husks wrapping wired frame
housing the boundless hearth called home

yet we search for our worth
in silence obscured
voices unheard
notions absurd

feigning the faintest of feeling
to etch unto mirrors of flesh
at best, an elusive illusion
at worst, the tragedy of truth

the poles of perception persist
infinite shades of finite reality
clamoring to claim validation
in sovereign states of solitude

ensnared in silken shrouds
sewn of our own accord
the hands that bring forth our intention
have sown our reflection’s ire

it is here we conspire

Thy Heart Impels

sable tresses sway untamed
free from shackles arbitrary
bound by naught
of blight nor burdened
truth voiced
with no known disclaim

that such serene sincerity
should stand amid a sea of prosy
bearing depths, defined aberrance
inherently as tempered twilight

my windowed pain refrains

through gentle truth
thy heart impels
reprieve from pressing peril

Fleeing From My Added Mouth

as stupid as i felt
when my shoe went flying
tailspin trampled
smashed bits in blinding dawn sun
of roaring wheeled metal

as dumb as when my frayed folders
ink blot scarred o-pee-chee
bled ruled paper
as i tasted knuckled grit

as foolish as the pointless plot
to crush that empty crate
jump, smash, crash gave way
to flustered face bursting blood
fleeing from my added mouth

it all looks like the work of genius
youth compiled on earthen crust
looking now from eyes that shed
shorn years lived
whence i held you

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

Dashing Dots Upon Infinity’s Infamy

here are we so precarious of perch
lurching forth with netted nonchalance
the implication of the hourglass holding steadfast
flashing to and fro in temporal turmoil
each instance a siphon upon our soul
folding our feelings of fallen conceptions
into sediment we so soon forget
the decadence of our ignorance
arrives with haste to come calling
some things it seems are not aligned
with this portion of permanence set into stone
stolen by a stubborn notion
so potent, relentless in persistence and plausibility
soon shall these sands slowly swallow
my countenance, eroding the shoal
surfacing in ashen artifacts of astral assimilation
dashing dots upon infinity’s infamy
disbanded formations of static stratae
strewn about to conformity’s constructs
commencing descent into vortical conclusion

In Daydreams Serene

in soporific sentience settling
i sit, soaking up the stoical stillness
tis the paragon of peaceful ponderance
where tranquility trumps trepidation
as velvet pistils on parchment availed
of subdued splendored prose of ambrosia
gone are the ghosts of vespertine void
as visions spurred by dawn’s embrace assuage
the looming days of yore up yonder
have vanished amid the sun kissed blare
but dare not stare into the bladed onset
in present context, let us resonate in harmony
awash in one another’s solace
in daydreams serene

Dormant Sea

bound by none
a captive of my own dormant sea
coercing contrivance

culled of indolence
each letter bearing down
with the weight of immutability

muniting this effigy’s mired affectations
where i hover in harrowed paresis
with hastening mind
and spent filings spurned

i lean hard upon whetstone
perpetual vacillation
dulling to impasse