Pathos of Recalcitrance

of course i lie
i’m only human

that aside, one sick of liars
i can justify my libel
yours, i dare not ponder freely

far beyond this ten-foot pole

your willful words of skillful squander
dangle at aberrant angles
fraught with such finagled ire

were that i could only trust you
unlike me, your ship has sailed
destined for abhorrent harbor
drowned in ardor so reviled

solely, to the death, indignant
figments framed as picture-perfect
truth absconded, lost in the morass

endless grabs for abstract fragments
stabbing blindly at the dark
puzzles pieced extemporarily
tenuously strung as art

how you manage without tire
mystifies the misled mind
wandering through gaslit tunnels

taciturn, you spurn the last
this pathos of recalcitrance
sits pithless to the bitter end

[image credit: J.W. Fores]

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Trust

i have spun this web
with words unsaid
upon a bed of sorrow

love ne’er ebbs
though in her stead
i dread to face
the wakeless morrow

broken vows of death’s departing
spoken with a silver tongue

cloaked in shards
from shattered hearts
enshrouded by the blackened sun

seconds fall at fevered pace
as life does from this land of lust

where all intentions turn to waste
and hurt is what we earn for trusting

Mirror

perfidious placation perforating pallid apparition
spurned and squandered by bonds broken
cloaked impropriety as dawn stretched triumphant

impressed upon waning waters were faces
mirrored familiarity adorned with arduous artifice
attempting to allay the evident advent

in visions of avaricious availing
amid veiled acquisition inauspicious
surreptitiously sought to sate fancied fate

execrable occurrence inexorably exerted
falling on scorned ear, shorn with unsheathed rebuff
abruptly abrading the sheen of intrigue

besieged by ambivalent endeavor
untethering ethereal ties thought eternal
infernal elucidation of burgeoning adulation