Ode to Scutty’s Buns Revisited

mister scutty.

buns.

mine eyes take to sea
draped in black damask

ask, upon what merit

to what do i owe
thy fine mask of sinew

in shadowed remorse
i lay vexed

exquisite.

a freedom formed
born of toilsome task
such winsome,
this ass

grasping in folly
i falter, forlorn
this finest of fannies
far more than fixed eye
could e’er hold candle to

sand doth sift
and so shifts time

o buns of golden mote
i dote on this fire
to hold what is naught
but a phantom fandango
so taut with transgressions
in visions foretold

foreboding alabaster sheath
aglow
no, asunder
plundering depths
taste tears of sallowed vitae

were strength as a flower
this truth, seed and all
should fall as the hour
when tower doth beckon

thy buns!
thy buns!

o scutty!
skyward flesh effused
obfuscated realms of sordid sanctity

below is a shifting
uplift yea!
uplifting

muted trepidation
threat or compliance

lo, golden buns of stardust waver

o scutty!
buns that scintillate liquescent
‘neath the moonlight’s tremble

in cries of haute

wielding scepter

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

Blissed Apparition 

drowning in broad strokes
of her brush so brash
I stood at the forefront
in backdrops of ash

with each newfound pass
pigments pressing conspired
composing the ocean
of mirth turned to mire

encircled in lunar sands
reticent scorn
obscured by the obelisk
spiraling forth

obstinate breast
of abrasiveness bellows
abundance of hues strewn
adorning her pillow

blissed apparition
of petals impearled
presaging solitude
of two stagnant worlds

A De-winged Fly Fixed In Brief Repose

on wavering wrest
against mirrored walls erring
spuriously spinning infinitesimal

entangled silken fractal
whelming accursed manacle
of urgent whims cast

inexorably whorled
a de-winged fly fixed
in brief repose

sinuous lamellate shifting
enkindling extricate forge
wrought with exigence

vermillion amative arils
on piste of glistened pist
oping obsidian sky fall
of ephemeral owl
and howling wraith

In Doubt Have We Forsaken All

Emerging at the worn divide
Torn with surging feelings
Forcing purging of things concealed
Stinging urges of surreal consequence

Stoically stowed with eloquence
Eluding the known self
Burrowing with blinded foresight
With mind of spurned course

Cheek turned, to face surreality
Burned bridges, blackened annealing
Annul the shackles bound to honor
Honed in hindsight, alighting home

Palindromic dominion of scorned conscience
Obsessive arbitrations mold mountains
In mundane progression in vain and valence
Visage now pallid, invalid throughout

In doubt have we forsaken all
Every fiber, mired by machinations manmade
In prophecies fulfilled by self sacrifice
Compliant with secession and sacredness surrendered

Descendent no longer through sentient states
Relentlessly pondered this basement ascent
What stasis has stricken a heart stalwart
Now felled as the four walls once bracing

To Gravity’s Savage Grave Grounded

aloof, alone
star drift sea
strands in nebulous array
sunburst striking stone
accursed throne turned cinder
plundering gaussian fields
fervently grasping spirals
wired illusions allude such form
here my sworn litany lifts above sky rift
sifting through lingering silt
like lucid liaisons
gaze on horizon
engulfed in pulsar prominence
shots spray into sprawling
faint call of caressing
a dust no longer present
confined to perception
her cosmic complexion refracts
reflected on welled tear
to gravity’s savage grave, grounded