How pretty
is the motor city
under neon diodes?
I sent my heart
into its stars
exhaled my soul
into rustbelt smoke
maybe I’ve lost my mind
or rather it’s left behind
my sanity abandoned
and blighted
my memories subjected
to successive evictions
—just up and forget ‘em—
I guess the city could
enlighten me a bit
on resilience
As the pixels of our images' imagined- dance
in magics binary
as chemicals mingling between us-
in touch's refibering, as element_OFelementals
entrenched,
drenched in of love's territorial ink
in it's.environmental sea
at moonlit cove
as stars scream in digital blink
In the silence of a starlit night,
I hear the whispers of the moon,
your serenade of gentle grace,
satelliting a mood,
as nature paints a tranquil face,
Time hands brushed strokes to interlace,
claws for an embrace.
Magic chronochromatic_poetry virtuates
automatically, as
fallen leaves of the tree of Life,
are we, like the nows'
fondest fronds of imagical memories,
drifted by and by inbetween reality sea, driftwood
carried,
buried in a crypt on the wind's soft sigh,.
the eternal cosmic expanse of adjoined mind,
In the diodes of pietry of infrared and canvas of
4D-shade, Spirit Never Fade,
find our way to our dream- that finds a way.
In awe of the power you possess; pull my tides in the night
Extraterrestrial diodes; set the scene with backlight
Silver and cold; blanketed in darkness chasing light
My love; forever your tether; need you; just hold me tight
I'll find you in my dreams; grasping you with all my might
Holding, without touching my beloved; feels so right
Worlds of devotion from Earth; to its betrothed satellite
PythonPotamus, "Abaddon" Quetzacoatliciously rises from the pit.
Helliopolis' ruins remains; "in the thick of it."
Ra, "Familiars the breeze" a God-imposter, sedicious, piece of Set.
Set Ing the diodes of scene.
All the same, on demand-
quid pro troll for human sacrificing...
icing in their assumed, -
exhumed names of representation-glands,
Idols in strange hands.
Decorating blue,
filling with strangers to one's own land.
Paradise Lost, seeking ills, -ills, ill gotten gains.
Kismetic Frosts relations
of cover-incestuous-religions
summoned in symbiotic trends,
of the means of the end.
On Alien soil, Ra, soon to return
to asphyxiate freedom's change, of wind,
whisping death's-bloom.
DeCoffinated break, drink !
Skywriters, Contracting...
Watching in aiding abetting, the elites.
The discreeted
scuttled upon the otherworldly-
Chariots called PleasureCrafts and Triremes and Juggernautivity Nets.
Lasers to strain in loom, everything you say or do-
you... buy, sell, eat, drink, breathe, think?
Utopia, Trojan Whores Riding a Beast.
Across the shadowed byte desert, a lone warrior limped.
Impelled by a spirited misanthropy, he plied the
idle partitions of mind and thirst.
An orphaned amorist, passionate, but alone.
And as he stumbled, the adders whispered hoarsely, and
the diodes siphoned the darkness, revealing the
atrophy, the phantom.
The showering bits, hardwired through his dreams,
despised his trophy; reality.
It was stormy with the pathos of insanity...
---===|||===---
And still, he wandered vainly through this parched land,
searching; His reward glimmering quietly across the code,
which danced between his groping fingers.
Aphorisms roamed in the chaos, and margins shifted
as he compiled the disorder which roared within his mind.
Slowly, his child emerged. At last, execution!
---===|||===---
But the young one, so perfect, so delicate, required more
than he could give. The decision was made...
| end parent process |
the headiness of now
swirl of keystroke and ideal
new pages
new thoughts
flying on ether
buoyed by excited neutrons
flared by the plasma
of a thousand faceless pens
type it
spill it
splash it on out with a careless eye
falling slow on burning diodes
bundled up
like a mind's autumn harvest
fed to a soul's hearth
dripping with embers
spilt out sooted and crisp
acrid, yet sweetly
an incensical fog
ladled out
from that conjuring elsewhere
sharp as raw silage
sweet as the dew
gathered
gather it
grasp it and renew
bottled summer still shining
uncorked and flown true
so shed the word wonder
baring all the mind's eye
as rapt galleries wait breathless
for every poet's emotional try
rhyme it
(or not)
choose time honored formats
(or not)
but truth be it told
rhyme scheme and meter
can be both lover and shackle
but in matters of the prose
dip your heart
deep into that rarefied font
and evaporate
into
honeyed fog banks
of verse...
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