Tag Archives: Flow

I AM

Cerulean peace

mascarading verimuei of

persian plum bing

echoing in mind’s sky

like a gypsy moth

motorcycle gang,

looking for lightswitch

raves and hued

tinboxes of marmalade

memory

speaking with

coquelicot tails of truth

and shipwrecked words

hung on springtail

shiz ogg ony’s

orange weighted thoughts.

I am stones set against the hills

Aztec black

achromatic

pirate motorcades

worming through

otherworld roads

pillaging ghost hall verbiage

turbid mocking bird calls

in the hopes electric violet

dreams

glow brighter there.

There were my Oak tall darker

self waits patiently plotting

to feast on the Elder silver sung

failures

of a golden aluminum mind.

Mint mingled with meaning

tangled

forks pushing straw braiding

creepping vines of

mental loops retracting and

reacting to the envolope

of time marching backwards

and spell crafted lines.

I am rythem

I am rhyme

I am london calling

Bell tower mourning

the loss of porcelian

knowledge

book covered middles

and shoes sole mustered glory

I am walking low

and hiding uninvisible

fae almanac verses

I am color me chrystal

tranglewreck borders

laughing at the horders

of words in head

that bears a sign

flashing Red

open for business

but I

I having nothing to sell.

I am sour pill bitten

snakeless tooth smitten

electric force cork drumming

mental note strumbingover

Moroccan pyrogen

seducing ubiquitously

like a neruotoxin

in silky perfection

a glue tin ation

verilent in

the prusuit of

faith

and calling the mice of fortunate

ransom to

stationary spilled out on

earthen green tables

laid to rest and memorialized

on sombre ink and ivory paper.

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Elusive fluidity of writing

I am left
here
pursuing the elusive
wrap of paper with
the edge of my
font so that
words might find
freedom from thought
and
then
the click click tapping
Stops
only to beginning again
like a theif at a lock
trying to wrest free
the hidden meanings
of words yet unformed
so wings will attach
and
Wisdom be born
but
then
the clicking clickin stops
….
Here it goes again
the willful drive
to
possess a song
to recreate a vision
in the mind
long since fading
into the trap of time
belating…ly
fierce
and visiously
aggressive.
Soon the clicking click click stops…
waiting….

Furiously
with tenacity
working on verbal
Symphony
echoing sound
in the halls of
thought
to surge down the path
of tendon
and bone
to the tips of fingers
waiting to
collect the remains
of days longs
since abandoning hope
of ever getting out
to
plant
just one word
on a page
a seed of a word tree
speaking out through
the screen
to become what it knew
it should be
.
.
.
poetry.