time resigns
to dust
in blustery skies
for gone, is all reason
and life bleeds heavenly
with laughter
no longer
looms lingering night
where lovers
once lived
‘neath the shadow’s reprise
Where Lovers Once Lived
Ode to Seth’s Legs
leaping like flames licketh brisk
summer air at which hour dawn yonder
showered eyes upon vigorous brace
the quintessence of equine preeminence
evincible glints grace glamorous mincing
thunderous echoes exuding lengthwise
exalted demise, dem legs, mine eyes
such spectacle sprawling
splendiferous in spades
defined restriction depicted
did clothe in denim
invoking a madness incurable
lest ye deftly caress with impetuous duress
o seth
shouldst thou presage to press
mine pith upon thine thigh
with haste alloweth this chaste cheek
to seek ambrose abrade
my dismal display in ardent diremption
come forth, cleave the alcove in twain
splaying resplendence
in resonant reverie
grant me the gifts of thy getaway sticks
for all of wast forsaken
in a moment so sacred
hadst cradled relentless reprise amidst repose
the length exceeds all
organic, alchemic
infusing frenetic dendritic rust rushing
clutching loincloth
enlivening languet
protrusions doth jut from jointed quadrant
afire with desire to sate with imminence
sinuous steel sinking into silken steps
where cries of compromise clingeth in clawed clamor
i stammer to stutter
shuddering bethought
on what brink wouldst i quaver
in savory slopes sweltering
neath sheltering shade
abating mine anguish
a solitary stolen wish
illustrious bough how hath thee so rendered
this tender heart smitten in prism of fire
did shape in dulled shackles of ashes erstwhile
whence harrowing spires spewed renewal
stricken with awe
unguarded guffawing
imparting the upstarts to uncharted enclave
o seth, alloweth thy sturdy stilts strapping most sweltry
to forge mine rod, sodden
in sweat born of strenuous struggle
straddling triumphant
promethean spruce
in predestined densities
and foregone clairkinesis
entwine me in thine tendrils of sooth
Sharing Is Caring:
Perspective Meme Observations: Women* (& other oddities)
There are times in which all of the entirety of language fails to suffice our desired conveyance. This is why we have memes. *please take note, this is only a meme, thus, all representations may be prone to parodic exaggeration meant to achieve a humorous effect. Except for that last frame… Why am I disclaiming? Because of my effusive affinity for magniloquent masochism which happens to have sadistic functioning as well. Okay, now i just feel super awkward… argh!
As much as find that I’m mildly afflicted by the abundance of alliterative day-of-the-week internet posting trends (such as ~sassy saturday~ or ~tonsilectomy tuesday~), I have nonetheless decided that I will add to this blog[?] a weekly tradition i shall dub ~Fotoshop Friday~. Or perhaps even, Photoshop Phriday […Fauxteaux Xiaoppe–… ok, i’ll stop. {but i’ll never stahp}…(((halp!))). Upon which I shall post a new Photoshop amalgamative abomination from the ardor of my artifice. Which may manifest in such ways such as to display the essence of my soul as seen below:
or perhaps when “shipping” went 8-bit:
and who could forget when ~Friend∞Zone~ dropped their debut album?
and the toilsome nights that ensued…
PSA’s for troubled youth:
the time i “borrowed” Scutty’s hawt bod…
and the proper tense for intimate grammatic expressions…
but I digress.
Sharing Is Caring:
Silphiums
ruing the remnants dissemblant
were silphium seeds etched in silver
cast into pockets of penance
from lovers in wretched remorse
confined to colluded delusion
where atrium gardens once grew
as swift as a handful of arils
denied every season its bloom
a lulling lament left them hardened
as reason complied with dissent
and gloom granted fools divine ardor
where stars perch upon moons crescent
Sharing Is Caring:
Roseate Lips
having read
the words
i had written
i lay somber
in solitude
soft strands
of sorrow
trace
this weary face
unable to understand
the nature
of perception
painting
my known reality
in scenes
of dormant verve
where torment falls
into tedium’s abyss
this resignation
squanders
the heart’s of men
quashing freed spirits
these tears are more
than salted dew
they whisper
thoughts
of hopeless wander
knowing
their fate
to be forsaken
swaddled in
this brimming cauldron
of cacophonous echoes
refused
their final
resting place
that lay within
your heart
what sorrow
this truth
weighs upon me
for i have come
to comprehend
its toll
as winter
now descends
brisk and bright
with snow-blanched walls
i fall
to find the fears
from which i have
forever fled
surround me
in my umbral journey
i have nothing
present
to pacify
the passing
hours
and prudence,
ever the afterthought
yet
here i lay
drenched
in tears
that draw
but one
conclusion
the illusion
of now
is the illustration
that streaks across
my mind’s eye
like light
that lived
so long ago
now soaring
above silent shadows
to show the truth
of temporal permanence
this
you have awakened
within me
i can only watch
as perfumed petals
waft
from roseate lips
Sharing Is Caring:
Winter’s Trine
flaxen strands at angles errant
dangle draped in fine translucence
lucid lines trace shapes ensconcing
winsome ways awash in whispers
all the almond’s fond azure
paragon of floret’s dew
sinuous tresses weaved in waters
worlds away from whence she watched
passive paramour of plight
plunging into astral pools
solitude that stings with piercing
as she sings her song of tears
pensively a passive pondering
wanders through the prism spire
spoken naught in uttered earnest
turning over tides of trine
Sharing Is Caring:
2 am
two in the morning
the hour of unmooring
and sordid self-sanctified litanies of lament
a restless contortion condemned
to weak flesh
And pensive delusions
of dreams death and somnolence
vying for conquest compliant
in courtship of heaven’s duress
with static distortion
the cries since impending
have rendered the dawn sempiternally unsound
as whispers she once left
to toil within
the tempest eye
where the star’s
lonesome hearts dwell
on waves of her lips
wisps of wistful prose
haunting perception
felled cowardice kisses
transmuted
adrift between boundaries
of bold indecision
dare told by none
writhing long
in scorching depths
arriving at naught
but poise fraught with a bold thought
to win the morn
a toll was then taken
far greater than fate
inundating our soul
Sharing Is Caring:
Stowed Amid A Solstice Dream
end this e’er incessant stream
of penance prying open seams
with hypervigilance unspoken
stowed amid a solstice dream
halt this hallowed grand illusion
bending will with blind intrude
bleeding onto open canvas
tapestries of hope construed
stay thy tongue of saintly affect
straying from each painted breath
brushing bold projections thrust
beyond the surface tension’s depth
swallow all the seas between us
stinging erstwhile tears of trust
lost in sallow shores born waning
scars implore fomenting rust
sink into the brink of madness
tingling impingent caress
ere we held this cursed congress
acquiescing fear’s duress
in the interim entangled
dangling whims will surely shed
sans decorum, sowing unheard
cries of autumn blur, bereft
Sharing Is Caring:
The Sloe
silent shrills
spilled forth like flies
from graves of eager repose
dolent will
crept from her eyes
in waves of welling woe
stoically
a stolen bliss
of esoteric air
stranded long
as loss bestilled
mesmeric songs drew tears
sycamores
loomed nigh as night
blew fickle wafts of clove
trickling
illuminously
from aloft the sloe
Sharing Is Caring:
Poem for You
felidae entwine my spirit
framed in frozen timeworn heights
such fate falls but once and only
molecules meet tongue in haste
curse this mind of echoed refuse
not allowing facile form
feelings of effusive freedom
bear no call to fault obscured
solace finds me in our silence
lost dimensions shift in shadows
lifting upward with release
let us now slip into slumber
crucial is the word we ravish
flushed, our lips defy known rapture
press your precious pith devoutly
pallid flesh smites potent implore
oh my noble lexic seraph
so do i adore thy mooring
tears of urgent surging wells
arrive us on the tide’s reprieve
needn’t are we to besiege
each of our own affliction’s ire
for we are as we ever shall be
bonding infinite depiction
Max, or Not 
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