I
corked
the last
lightning bug
in this Coke bottle,
too precious for any matchbox,
distinguishing it from slugs, snips, spineless annelids;
for no other reason than juvenile sensibilities, vainglorious captures,
nothing for practical science, all to preserve a boyish reputation that made me aleatory, dire, perilous, savage, bland
but pride, quaintly, comes as I bear its marginal light, dwindling the dutiful darkness of evening, like faint choking hymns of elder choristers; hence I pray it shall be till morning, since fireflies have no engagements with the sun
Souvenirs
nostalgic
heirloom
memorabilia
archived
muniments
prospectus
paraphernalia
posters
sequestered
Benefaction blight
twinkling trinket
tinged trophy
hoisted
himalayan style
melancholy monument
meteoric miniscule
flyby
verdant vestiges
viral vanish
Mayfly
transient
miscellany
evanescent
detritus
fugacious
snippets
antiquarian
bricolage
hodgepodge
Testament atrophied
gossamer gaudy
gazumping
languid lodger’s
meretricious milestone
culminated
artefact assemblage
bowdlerised bijou
moribund reticule
abecedarian
Marcescent abstract
mileage mocker
synthetic switch
unplugging
nomadic nonpareil
reminiscence’s
ineffable
ephemeron
aphoristic
aleatory
Abandoned where aleatory fates immerse,
Exiled in the Whirlpool of Death we face,
Transcending a vanishing star's lost grace,
Leaving sanguine possibilities, a Time we curse,
Mirroring a microcosm of history in verse.
Perhaps in reaction, or rebellion, a world is born:
A world mirrored, where whims hold sway,
A candle's flame, twice bright, burns half its day,
Besotting fiction’s staple, known and long,
Dancing to its own drummer's vibrant song,
Problems, unpassported, its throng banish away.
elements
of
a whole
different
each time
played
recorded
impressed
or
created
improvised
ideas
thoughts
of the moment
unique
unrepeatable
aleatory
features
improvised
fragments
to introduce
variability
of
short patterns
without
coordination
a blur
of
possibilities
on
a
roundabout
of chance
impromptu
light-hearted,
in vogue:
a genteel
virtue
devoid
of
the vernacular..
..yet
straight-laced,
fastidious
maybe:
the
essentials
of life
in
summoned
semantics
of an
illusory
vacuum
In the nascence of one’s polonaise,
Always an unknown tune invades, unseen, unfelt:
The sonority of a somber night-sonata,
Inside a cold, dark tomb.
Aleatory existence led by revolting wheels,
Propinquity of flesh becomes insuperable;
The horologist can’t cease the ticking.
The tour de force of infinity--
I wonder why it couldn’t be a holding, exoteric.
-Pin Dew (01/05/2017)
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