skies exploding in
rhapsodies of violet
and gold confetti
while the mountains gird themselves
for sentry duties to come
Tag: Alinear Dissonance
sgraffito
retrahent dreaming as the subconscious indulges in its sgraffito a vectitory wondering covering up the pandemian amid dysbulia
To share is human:
in soul of search mates
belonging.
the sad is search and
difficult with all of its
dramatics to turn oneself into a
prize it’s moral
acrobatics we love because
we love to love to need to feel
inside but all that ever was
and is is made of clove and
pride we string along our
platitudes we soon evince our
longing but souls are made of fragile
stuff and yearning for
To share is human:
i only once
i only once beside you once inside you once then grieved you once and in a thrice the tears of twice, in days of ice believed you once for every once i should have once but lost you once for i'm a dunce
© Andriy Bezuglov | Dreamstime.com – Girl in red hood
To share is human:
the 7th sibylline utterance of the new millennium
the gods demanded sacrifice,
and so we offered
tolerance
it’s not like anyone
was using it
that much
for what you can’t destroy,
you still can
lock away
we do that now, in every manner
those words can
be stretched
and how we torture words, to make it
seem as though we mean the
things we say;
but we do not. at least we do not live
the values we espouse, nor do
we really want to
and spiders – there are spiders in the halls,
the webs are everywhere —
we call our hate self-love,
and turn our self-love into
candy-coated knives
with power comes
nobody’s peter parker;
the price is right, but we
have got no barker
the song of houston, but
how will i know?
we stowaway what we should never
stow
the bars slam shut, because we
close them down;
don’t know your name, you’re just
some damned pronoun
the skittish horse may try
to flee the pen;
but hunted down they are,
always
again
when semiotics tells us to,
we stop and genuflect:
the dog-whistles that really
guide our lives —
the empty hallways do not mean
that all the ghosts have left;
the blood is in the pipes,
not in the water
and the pipes
go everywhere
To share is human:
sepelible
clamorous visitors of
a diseased interpreter;
the haunted fields of
possibilities that may be
buried, but which inhere
the very grounds that
walk upon him
To share is human:
blanking —
all the hammer blows.
tractile and malleable —
incessantly down.
bent, shaped and worn complanate
longing for rest. — relentless —
