I Prefer Not To.
thy beauty,
prosody
to parchment
petaline
pan silvery waves
as time
forgets
to squander
the frailest shade
peculiar
of a vespertine avail
assailing
listless seas
sweet aureate
avolens
how verily
i doth adore
thy sighing wells
of svelte
pretense
amid desecrated ruin
of barren thought
echoes
sing
your goodbye
still
i hold on
to a memory
I had
never known
far too long
as these stolen
hours come
to light
and life
knocks me back
down
where the screams
of windswept dreams
give way
to muted
mountains
of martyrdom
today
a cringeworthy lyric
gave me pause
for i was stricken
by the oddest notion
it was a moment
in which all
frames of reference
were at my disposal
“what makes a real man?”
i pondered…
responsibility
protecting loved ones
defending honor
dependability
trustworthiness
loyalty
voicing truth
integrity…
as i stood there
i began to see
that it mattered not
how many traits
i listed
for right then i suddenly realized
the only real men
i had ever known
were women
to fall
into the unknown
dimension
where lovers
leave
words like
poets
bleed lament
where
corpses heed
none
but their own
condemnation
is more
than just
morbid salvation
undone
where shunned
is reprieve
born
on sleeves
worn
as weary
in storms
of contrarian
fears
shared
by one
is
to walk
into scarcity
piercing
the sun’s skin
where verity
ventures
of time’s
volition
lo, i know naught but an ignorance dire
inflicted upon those who dare court my ire
possessing scant patience for due diligence
i have no inclination to sate precedence
for all that i see is a world which devolves
revolving around me with heedless resolve
to suffer such consequence not born of my realm
indolent irreverence is a relic unsound
so profound is this bliss some might call it profane
still i’m bound to persist as they wither in vain
from the slithering stress steeped in sorrowful waves
such a grave indignation of conscience enslaved
abhorrent abomination i deign piteous
seeking sordid salvation of scorn hideous
sisyphean sell-outs diseased and distraught
such boolean fallout finds fools ever-fraught
with frivolous fears ere their failings forsooth
the fate of their frail bed of tears ailing truth
entailing an entropy expeditious
extrinsically linked to existence remiss
a polar
divide
e’er pervades
this wavering visage
of sinuous veil
the restive wrath
of breathlessness
whispering
frailty
the freeing influx
of fire’s adorning
roaring
with impassioned plea
and sordid rationale
a brashness
pent
with lunar ashes
but sooner
harken voices
with wretched dissonance
squandering
madness
freefalling
in monochromatic
disparity
distant reflections
sentenced
to toil the time
where heart’s
divergent dwell
the wells of hybris
beget weeping stone
by the lurching
of earth’s tormented
breeze
release me
to discordance
your words
are the sinister fire
that burns
truth
through holes
in my head
with thoughts
that forever conspire
to spurn the unheard
consequence
i look to your kingdom
of ire
to learn
of my lost relevance
with hope
i may someday
retire
from churning
this latent lament
the days
of conflict
and desire
were earned
but would never
be spent
this love
once so fervent
and dire
returns now
to fine
sediment
[Photo: Mary Pickford]
i awaken
into dream
the essence so precise
a place
i know so well
it seems
this feeling
permeates every aspect
of my being
where i can
never again
expect
to be
time has turned
forbidden
spurned
forlorn
for the life
of me
i cannot
discern disparity
alas
my conscious mind
soon finds
the glass rift
as what was once
life shifts
the past
sight amiss
all is ripped
from this fervid grasp
in that fleeting
final frame
of perfect
freedom
forsaken
Max, or Not 
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