Fates Since Abandoned

without death
we are nothing

a wintry embrace
long forgotten

grains of mured sand
in an endless descent

adorners of vitrails
neath skies of exalt

the morass of mortality
bound to such frivol

vaunting in vain
for a fool’s validation

regale me with tales
of a fabled existence
with just enough laughter
to stay my own ruin

let us sit on the ledge
where the sea hides the sun
in vigilant view
of our imminence

twinkled reflections
reveal glimpses of youth

lost in mirages
of futures imagined

to think of the fates
since abandoned brings pause

bewildered in awe
as our final breath flees

 

[image credit: Jennie Harbor]

Extant Toll

reeling from the shrill assail
falls entropy surreal
shrieking past in amaranthine streaks

present will
spawn futures fading

fanning flames
of phantom fears

the silphium of self-affliction

arms outstretched

wretched hands of spider-like accosting
insistent to collect the extant toll

mortals of a moribundity
so profoundly mundane

stranded on ledges
of bridges burned
at oblivion’s edge

a futile spiral of lament
into event horizon

[image credit: Freydoon Rassouli]

Pointed Lessons

the abstract tapestry of thought and emotion
sifting through memories
persisting beyond the toll of midnight

a surreality poignance fraught
amidst your fabled absence

through context into lucid light
those wayward flecks take flight

seeing now
the urgency defining bated breath

hindsight is a bird unbounded
heaven’s haste begets unheeding

by the merit of its taste
left on the tongue in lingering

how is it that voices lacking tangible disclosure
visibly vociferate through vales
our verities unseen

only to be vetted in the aftermath
of fate’s denouement

moments later, vested virtues
forsaken anew

by the nighest conscious duress
of my conscience’s affording

i will honor your bestowing
in the bastion of my breast

pray not let these pointed lessons fall
when life resumes its pique

[image credit: Edouard Goerg]

Compendium

sink beneath
the sand of sorrows

hallowed catacombs
await

mortal tombs
hold treasures borrowed

sown into
the desert’s wake

time exists
in every tense

with all dimensions
coalescing

ancient tomes
foretell the future

shifting
in between dimensions

drift from ending
to beginning

softly
silent suns are setting

as we shed
our sacred secrets

into the abyss of freedom