Partisan You

 

The moss spreads o'er our land

Laid to rest in shade by the blinding hand

Colors change, luster sustains

When mold is torn, a new crescendo's born

 

Sirens cry out mournful drones

For what our loops have sewn

Relying on time to complete repairs

There's twig scaffolding for porcelain stairs

 

Reaching for petals of merlot

Fingers climb up her barbed rope

Painfully true, partisan you

 

Sugar on their tongues

Fluid pools in their lungs

Sweat it out, why lick it up?

Our own connection's a confection unspun

Fear of White Walls

 

Clear endings purge

Beginnings emerge

Buried gems ring bells below

Embodied canvas aglow

 

Trailing conscious delay

The smell of decay

Predator salivates

Must enslave the prey

 

Foggy shield in his scope starts wielding its blur

Darkness creeping in a'drape, a figure takes shape

Clarity falls short

Fear found its mort, which had failed to abort

 

Cryptic it remains, unknown, awaiting impulse

Eating up the breadcrumb trail of my unexplored tale

White walls have paved its allure and charm

The steadiness speaks no harm

 

Prying happy smiles with clean, fresh sterile style

Apathy ahead for miles, and more to compile

In this dry time, darkness will prevail

The crop you tend will surely fail

 

Over smoldering musk scents, sandalwood ferments

Whistles pitching high initiate tree roots' slide

Hypnotic pulses on animal skins

Present the smudge stick to its grin

 

Forced in a tight cell

Where thoughts mean to dwell, they swell

Will man cry when his wings are torn off dry?

 

Pregnant tongues howl

Adolescent eyes growl

Feed with exotic rinds

To birth the silver kind

Upon the Clearing

 

Old gaping-gob, head ticks

Imploring seekers impound, surround

The stomach stirs when tainted tails erupt, blow up

Discharging such facetious... oh, mediations

 

Amongst these raging tides, upon the clearing

Natives summon a celebration

Keeping the embers lit

Keeping the peace afloat

Pull them to our bosom

For a creation of elation

 

Reaching for a distant shore, sea of clover

The closer to lust, the more he rusts

Dangling, frayed, and too late to delay

They pray and they prey

For robust and bold dismay

 

Surrender to the setting sun

As the dancing shell is hoisted up

Bones pierce the bark, in spite of our frothing fellows

 

Marry thine body with its bright crystal beads

Birthed upon their bronze provider

Shedding, they cascade down

To the parched domain of our departed ancestors

 

Heavy breaths, and a fatal swoon

Beneath the open hides, it gradually splits open wide

 

It leans with a faint, quarreled form

And red berries are ripped from their polluted tree,

While the holes are covered with a brand new plea

 

A healthy branch looms amongst the congregation

Sucking thumb, and looking into the sun

Sensing the mosaic disarray

While harvesting the short-lived praise

They soon will have to face

The Fourth Wall

 

The air is plagued with sin

Trembling within genetic lockdown

But absorption occurs

Blood boils behind regard

Letting weakness seep through the lard

 

Wander away to the hermit's hub

A kink in their hose is a “chemical flub”

But slip those depleted remains from shackled refrain

 

Infatuation with a blooming collage

This idol of faith may be a distant mirage

Away from realist sustenance

Which repels thine brother's grasp

 

A vivid moment of lavish resort

Enlightens with primal intensity

Memory is conserved

Through one's own will to preserve

Quarantine

 

His halo has lifted, it drifted away

And the people who choose black or white, he paints grey

Knowledge and skills are his currency

Their predictability a handshake

 

Their pillars, once ripe, are brought down in one swipe

To make the land our church, and forgiveness - unheard

A shrine rebuilt for all seeking sure defeat

The ones who dare to dance, limber and discreet

 

Plucked from his tree, pulled off of his track

Placed in captivity with walls thick of glass

Displayed as a menace, an infectious seed about

Warning those who question convention and its clout

 

Collapsing on a thinly stiffened cot

And fighting the stench from a porcelain pot

A carving knife lies beside fruits that rot

A clever plot, but his spite's all he's got

 

His room sits amongst the union square

An invitation for all to come and stare

Disciples of tradition, they gather in his despair

The chairmen of conviction applaud for their snare

 

His roots retire

Under this enemy choir

Whittled and weak with desire

Entwined in a patient pyre

A Sterile Draft

 

A silk cocoon has cradled its womb

A sterile draft has awaited my craft

 

Beasts align when the time is mine

Forcep hands bring inverted dance

 

We relay thoughts of our inner-sense lost

Casting beams feature naked sleeves

 

Wrenched into disfigurement

We summon up new measurement

 

Limelight dribble under lunar light

Conductive drivel under hyper's sight

 

The juice of fertility

The jewels of hostility

Bundle's Bolero

 

Forming prophecies from all the smoke that's been released

Finally finding fortunes in the drunk, sunken tea leaves

Caught between the fields of green and seductive serpentines

 

A diluted resolution

Flails his arms for that fake farm

Hugging its feet for the blessed retreat

 

Pounding form into the dirt over rotting finds

Infertile and bitter with no means of taking flight

Soaking into the flytrap that robotic apes contract

 

Through ebb and flow, with a coarse touch

Remove our inherent crutch

Prod the laughing foe to confront their chateau

 

Solitary ventures have fallen short in their packs

Blood of infectious broods leak into the source of facts

Lactations contaminated in the hostess' breasts

 

Cast them into the coiling flux

Forge your spatial communion

And sit in the garden I've eaten, in peace

Persona Non Grata

 

Trudging muscles ache in heavy snow

Body damp with freezing sweat in bitter cold

Nightly wind cuts dry, brittle skin

Stomach empty from a fruitless hunt

 

Meadow below, distant lights show

A tiny village nests beneath mountain shields

So, I draw near the bustle of sounds rising

From the tired evening silence

Their hands held out to me

With warmth, they take me in

 

They clothe me in wool,

While leading me to a crafted stool

In front of cakes and ales

Encircling laughs and dancing

With no regard for daily chores

But my glass is kept full

 

Dawn beams unto thine face

But there's no change of pace

An absence of wear in their chase -

It seems a trifle odd

Yet I want to learn how this beauty is preserved

No pain, but how can such things reign?

They say I should refrain

 

My thoughts are warned through persistence

For to ponder is to wander away from paradise

I insist on my help, and the peace breaks

Fires are set ablaze

Hypnotic movements form a haze

 

Their actions turn aggressive and their words all become brash

Their bright eyes become pitted and their smiles turn to snarls

I fear the intent with their gaze aimed at me

To become? Or to be chastised?

I'll be on my merry way!