I Prefer Not To.
why must our presence
present as pendulous peril
perpetually passing
between plausible purpose
and predisposed plight
prolonging pandemonium
to placate pedestrian pedantry
perpetrated by apathetic progenitors
to please their pathetically primitive
predilection for perpetuant personal prospect
through perfunctory procreation
parsimoniously placing province
and perdurable pain
on the passively plucked
personifications
of their phantom permanence?
[image credit: Vittorio Zecchin]
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
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
moments pass
without discretion
woolen tangerine yet blares
framed
as though it were alone
as i
when every tear
touched paper
those rising redwoods stand
aloft
stark in contrast
bark to flesh
an old friend’s triumph
over fallen redwood
ever forefront
his eyes still speak
to me
this day
subtle dreams
were left between
to foster love
less nuanced
even i cannot recall
in light
of geometric wrest
frozen
into false creation
stories cast upon
recall
life once ventured
beyond
the vague demise
captured
by synthetic eyes
of ghostly senses
under the ruby
speckled tree
hours passed
as our past
spilled out before us
random shapes
saw growth
unravel
as strange
as what we have become
soaked in sun-drawn salted dew
so few
I had come to know
softened smiles
would crumble walls
as tall as mountains
exiled
in forgotten flesh
that forged anew
toward the crimson dawn
in sacred solitude
we held forever
ever knowing
nothing more
than love’s gentle cradling
kissed by a fallen gem
now stained
the hues of human
sacrifice
every loss we suffered
shone through
this crooked canvas
as covert cries
wisdom watching
as we wept
vivid breaths
that stilled the air
in wintry wafts
of stolen strength
this lengthy load
now turns languid
time and circumstance
holding force
on our union’s resting
turning harmony dissonant
when i listen
to the tones
of shrill cries
from passing stars
my efforts
to gain passage
are denied
left scarred
from having so misjudged
the heights
obscured by heaven
despite this heart’s bursting
still
i have felt
the shards of piercing
work their way into my song
words imbued
to shape the softened strings
that set this sallow soul
to brood
the day shall come
in the offset glow
of winter’s nuance
swept into
the undertow’s sway
where we will walk
tethered
in the hour
of silent prose
Max, or Not 