We arose from restless dead since time before
your futile presence an ancient Earth did spore
your many variants, which we gladly sting,
no matter which holy deity or king
you set against. Serqet heals but cannot cure;
guardian of Qebehsenuef; brief allure
that regards canonic jar of chitterlings,
timeless amulet that bears such hollow rings.
Our poison always threats your sweet milieu
for still we dance a promenade à deux.
Categories:
canonic, death, life,
Form: Rhyme
The pink honeycomb provided a mysterious grace,
Warrior with a sloth-purse unclosed wound.
Sargassum, barefoot hollow woman,
As if such an object could meet my canonic sound.
Soak my feet in cool moist sand,
And juncture to the purple sunset over the sea-bound.
Slowpoke chucklehead hump and heave its swarm,
Create a hole in the caliginous maroon of the unfound.
Until she's done and back to the ocean,
I set and bout her unreal breath with the ground.
This sea a ford motor stimulates altitudinous,
It evokes in me how all designs breathe and drown.
Ocean waves are noisy
like the rain dexterously pours down.
Written: October 10, 2022
Categories:
canonic, analogy, angst, beauty, ocean,
Form: Rhyme