I agree it’s a flaw, to lack respect
For the usual silly proud words that match
Some symbolic achievement where I didn’t act
Didn’t bother to start “my way” from scratch
Wasn’t able to worry about learning curve
Didn’t listen to those dour faces drag
Took them maybe easier than they deserve
Never waved any bright or a bleached rag
I don’t have the required reserves of hypocrisy
Wouldn’t initiate any commences
Neither I stand for empire nor democracy
With folly defense at my own expenses
Call me a psycho gripped by indifference
Call me whatever you like but don’t kill
Deceased, I won’t add any sensual coherence
To the mess you alter thinking it’s your will.
SYMBOLIC ALLUSION
observing
sketching
endlessly
fascinated
&
reflecting
legible
lighting
fashioned
&
arresting
conscious
elaboration
in
visual
gilding
intricacy
standing
pale
Wherever we go, whatever we do
Your shadow is not far behind our steps and our breath
Protecting and watching all...
Observing spirits on the wall
What are they telling you?
Following all instincts that are pure
Oblivious to time that may be the cure
Sacred is the
Gift that they have without knowing
Serenity
is knowing it's safe
From destruction of time
Of A Mocking Symbolic Justice’s Statue
Blindfolded justice,
Can’t symbolize equity
With unbalanced scales:
Such a torching mockery:
Blinding out democracy:-
Blinding justice
To unbalance equity,
Mocks democracy:
Poor humanity blinded
By such unjust mockery:-
Angelic, Axial, Animalistic, Anonymous
Balanced, Bullish, Brave, Boorish
Caring, Cynical, Charismatic, Contradicting
Daring, Doodling, Detached, Deep
Eccentric, Excavator, Engaged, Exorcising
Fatherly, Frantic, Fiendish, Faithful
Gamer, Gothic, Gibberish, Gentle
Heretic, Hippy, Horizontal, Hermit
Inspirational, Inquisitive, Impulsive, Interpreter
Jolly, Just, Jumper, Jack in the Beanstalk
Kindling, Kudosocial, Kinky, Karate zen
Loving, Lexical, Lavish, Lunar
Mysterious, Motherly, Musical, Mnemonic
Nurturing, Nibbling, Natural, Neanderthal
Outgoing, Outsider, Onlooker, Orthopaedic
Pious, Pepperish, Plastered, Porcelain
Quiet, Quixotic, Quester, Quicky
Repairman, Rider, Realistic, Remnant
Sweet, Sour, Single, Stamped
Truthful, Thinker, Tinker, Tumbler
Undecided, Untitled, Universal, Unknown
Vertical, Virgin, Vandal, Varsitarian
Whimsical, Waiter, Worldly, Wordy
Xenophobic, X-men, Xylophonic, X-rated
Yuppy, Yummy, Y era, Yoyo
Zany, Zealous, Zippy, Zapped
If I could go back, I’d return to the quiet moment I told myself I have time.
I’d kill that thought entirely,
remind myself that now is the youngest I will ever be.
That lie has sat on my chest like a dumbbell for years—
too heavy to lift, too late to drop—
and all I can do now is push through the weight
of the mistake that reshaped me.
The temperature drops
trees look like they are covered
in sharp icicle wings
Written by Gail DeBole
On November 8, 2025
Updated on Dec. 9, 2025
REM protectively flows out
Into Cryptic mental fuzziness.
May make no Immediate sense.
May make no sense for a lifetime.
While still providing a
Soft or harsh pillow to a
Human soul.
Lying near the vastness
of ocean breathing
with the melody of waves.
Breeze sang along the tides
whispering through and dreamy eyes
My own fingers carved something ,
Etched a groove
on the blank sheet
of sand
molding deep marks.
And the wind passed
I blinked.
The mark remained.
I Didn’t know what was it or
why was it?
Tried filling them up,
to return the shore to before.
Felt, had erased it,
it was at the shore,
realised a bit,
they were there , lingered
in some other gear.
Just some sand filled in those grooves ,
the marks remained beneath the layer ,
and whenever the waves swept over,
The grooves remained ,
not erased but waiting its return.
Dissolving the surface
revealing the depth ,
and darkness
revealing what the daylight hides.
And the stream begins out of dryness
falling down the cliff again
from that fall,
blossoms and melodies again.
The waters no longer hot, just a cold depthless sea.
The young girls shackle was a perfect miraculous fit.
dragging her to the depths of the shallow box;
the anchor that would sit.
Her locks of hair were dripping-
a drip for all her anguish,
that would send the box spilling.
Thus she stayed silent,
pop, bam, bang for every bubble that popped-
a new batch would flock.
Lifting up her arms in despair,
she looked at the radiant circle.
It wasn't fair.
The circle bulged created by man,
but she couldnt even use her hand-
to get out of the cell, it would be a bore.
For she had the capacity for no more,
She wailed and cried and still couldn't thrive.
For her smile was deprived.
Was the bath ever even hot?
or had she forgot-
to turn the tap and make it hot.
A beggar grabbed my hand and cried for some spare change.
At first, I offered him a sweet memory of food or a tasteless sip of divine water, but he asked for money.
I had a heavy coin and gave it to him.
I wondered why he took only the money, and when he saw it, he immediately placed it in a different spot.
I asked why.
I offered you food and water—you rejected both, and now you hide the coin.
He said it was the most different one, and if he didn’t hide it, other people would start accusing him that the coin was wrong, that it shouldn’t be used—because its print was different, because its color didn’t match theirs.
There is music in the silence, in the rest of unheard notes. That is where I hold my breath. Where the universe spins out its code for me to read. I watch as the unfallen sky reveals her mystery. Language unfolds in choreography, dancing between each blink of intention.
But I have questions
If time is not real, then what are we?
Poison and the cure, she screams at crashing volumes. No one sees.
I lay in the soporific sequel, turning over in the concavity of restlessness. Trials of the past collide with warm static forming variations of need. They are all tied to strings. She strums them with shades of night. The unfallen sky weeps. No one is listening.
Stress cannibalizes stones hungry for frailty but each is weighted in expectation. High caloric bites of the unknown. Bitter tones of perceived reality. The answer is in everything we devour. In the stillness of cognition yet all we do is eat.
The mother feeds
The mother weeps
Begging for her witness
As they all sleep soundly in her suffering
Barked with nature's firm hope,
Branches of nature's strong faith,
Sappers of nature's sweet love:-
Embers of crucufixion,
Leaves of reesurrection borne:-
Roots bearing tribulations:
Trunking annunciation:-
Living and dying,
juxtaposed realities;
life's cradles and graves:-
The Symbolic Life
Nine years old
And picking candy
Off the shelf at Woolworth.
Two Tootsie rolls, and
A Rolo, then a bite off of
A wax bottle filled with sugar water.
Forty nine years old,
And picking candy out of
My medicine bottle,
Two Oxycodones,
And a Morphine,
And bite off a Valium.
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