Carousel (Part I)
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!
Carousel (Part II)
Carousel
He fulfills the beast he was born to be
Under guides who gauge his brawn
And apprehend the weak beneath,
Finding no faith of his own
Though we all pull from the same flame
She carries the torch, as she was taught
Without igniting her own
Amongst ornamentations of our carousel
We all look out to see
Kaleidoscopic views beneath
The blurred but indiscreet
Revealin' a motion suite
Often left unnoticed, we step off its course
Into the stillness of a fugue-state
While stumbling in its tow
A stupor of clarity disarms
The warm numbers of marching piles
For no longer do they dilute the stale taste
Held in the open mouth of a stumped face
Your own cement shoes bind you to the love and justice, true
The carousel still turns
But porous minds will be tapped into
Then wrought dry for their aesthetic stew
The Hand
Days soon turn late, offering up our dirty plate
Limbs are weak, though the mind's not beat
But for just a moment, they take a seat
Then from below, like the ugly bridge troll
The covert anchor pulls toward the hand, which speaks intent
Of some wriggling divine plan
The body chokes in its dense, composed repose
If your grasp is short, and temper's alike
That quick-slipping grip may spike a sharp, cursed reich
And those who strike will end up on a pike
So, while you carry out your sentence of life in fluff toil
Know the hand's coy hydra coil
Will bring you into Earth's soil
Before you get to swallow the spoils
Bright Within the Darkness
A vast frontier coaxes the will of one
Within the embrace of absurdity
But when purgatory emerges in loops and chains
The victim basks in surreal lamentation
Then from the fog, appears tribes of garnished masks
Breed for their dimness and utility
Armed with their chic clubs, sharing mirrored interplay
Convinced they make inherent idleness graceful
Though weak, their numbers are high
They advance in parallel, hitching to a tailcoat path
Solo in thick company, blocking the deviant
Drifting in tandem, forming whirlpools at random
Speaking for all, they take our name
Aimlessly trapping the ripe in their net of hype
Soiling reputations within their mediocre frame
Ears are boxed if fresh sounds escape
Eyes are blinded and the vision stolen if a new way is seen
Tongues are cut from the mouth holding bad taste
If bright minds rise above the cold, dense darkness
Stories will shed on the present
Abandon course, and there'll be no trace to follow
Placing the reigns of fate in callous, red hands
Wild Animals
How hard, and for how long, can one scream
Into the silent stillness of a dream?
The heart is strained,
Losing its voice from infinite exclaim
A soft caress from a consoling breeze
May bring contorted ones down to their knees
The hands are sore,
Lying before some empty frontier door
This wall I've pushed against is solid brick,
And not knowing how thick still makes me sick
The boulder falls
From my shoulders, exhaustion has me crawl
The infantry retreats to the long journey home, alone
Their emotions burned bright
But now are numbed, muted, and out of sight
Are my wild animals now free,
Or in their cage, by carousel decree?
If part of them is still awake
Will they know what's at stake?
Through the Teeth
Dilated eyes may help one praise the satyr's side
Compelled by themes so subtly disguised
But when terms of contrast slowly stretch thin
They turn wary of their aching skin
Can the realist point out delusion?
Or are they just blind to our most dire times?
Is letting them be, setting evil free?
Is waiting to pull up the roots of fate much too late?
The door of compliance shan't gather moss
Mobility puts the mind of intimate loss at ease
Hanging from a hope that won't elope
The hills are steep - plagued with yearnings, endlessly deep
A fool's been tamed, and so resumes our silly game
Tired, he peers through the teeth of honesty's choir
Waiting for Saint Nick to bludgeon him on the head
With gifts to help alleviate this Earthly dread
Armed with an indiscernible language
This voice projects a muted frequency bridge
Never to be heard by those who don't care
But to resonate with the lustrous soul, aware
Mirror of Majesties
Their demigods are figures of the past
Praised for their outcast contrast
Yet they aim to replicate all that their majesties hate
As the unsung heroes of the present are left famished
And without a stamp, they're left abandoned
If there's a desire to persuade
They'll only sense doubt in your ways
Advice from their device guides to entice
Passions that are discarded when new updates arise
Though each day never lets go
They're just too aloof to ever know
The burden of accumulation will linger and hiss
Consciousness is a curse, as ignorance is bliss
Behind the walls that they've built
They are deep beneath their quilt and warm facade
It feels secure and safe amongst the mob
Riding the wave of some collective, muffled voice
So far apart from reality's swollen heart
They drain the blood from their own
From high up on their throne and reap the loot, feeling astute
But at the root, they're just some remnant pile of bones –
Catacombs of someone else's relic moans
Crushing skulls in hell-bent march
Feasting on insecure à la carte
Only the victors will do the writing for us
While the seconds all go to waste
There cannot be creation from destruction
If the liberated spores are all erased
Child Kingdom
Are you “The Child”, or just an oaf of this mercy mild?
Set out to sea! Art thou now free? We'll see!
Was there betrayal of a soul once lone and feral?
Will "Nothing" congeal? Is evil real? Feel!
Can you see beyond the trees?
Did you climb the highest peak?
Have you found comfort in the mirror that you chose to hold?
Do you see you, or those who froze? Who knows?
Warming your bones with thoughts of eagerness that once rose
But, now you wait. Where is the bait? Too late?
Shivering in this year's first rain,
Molting your cares away
Reach for the clouds in desperation – you gave your vows!
Turn on “delight”! No room for “fright”! Alright!
Harness the laws the child kingdom once had you gnaw on
They once seemed trite, but now are quite finite
Eternal youth comes in a mead of blood and honey
Solitary Dances or Incantations for the Hopeful and Hopeless
Endless Migration
Hooves drummed upon high hills
The sowing and harvests began
Damp doors shoved us out into swill
While swords slept sound in our hands
The icy rain fell monotone,
Then hard came down the hail
We never reached the peaceful port
When into ourselves, we sailed
Luminous flowers erupted in bloom
With the nature of souring wounds
And in the depths of their cold, rose-flesh
We were destined to be consumed
En masse we moved like mastodons
Slow footprints in fresh, fallen snow
Driving hard into each bleeding dusk
What we sought had already flown
Our failing future was fragrant
Which was why some chose to flee
Had they not joined the trail-blaze
They'd be gravel beneath our feet
The ruling jaws locked tightly on
The most aggressive and resistant,
While those wandering curiously
Were given potions at a distance
Bargaining for the comatose muse
With their compliant and static souls
A submissiveness fit for breeding use
Gagging hard under idle control
Success only sat down at the foot
Of the bed of the rich, jeweled dead
While those with the millstone collars
Chewed on their last, remaining dregs
We are what we eat – the new livestock
Enduring our exhausting lives
Cradled by cages, caught in a deadlock
Chaos guiding our severed minds... into despair
More crop, more domestication, less symbiosis
More destruction, less space, more anchored, less exploration // diet less diverse
More disease, more death, more births, more work, more resources
More property, more possessions, more greed, more enemies // less harmony
More concern, more laws, more rulers, more walls
More maintenance, more slaves, more myths, more fear, more allegiance // less time, less aware
More dependency, more trapped, more isolated, less free, more pain
Feathers of Fidelity
The kelinky, pot pot chee
Of the great, old hollow tree
Would enter the shards
From hellfire swooping down
To the sides of their fallen brethren
Through conditions, dire
The feathers of fidelity
Will beckon their flaccid flag
For embodiments of virtue
Ignite the threatening, saintly stag
The kelinky, pot pot chee
Of the great, old hollow tree
Nest there no more
For their wise and noble abodes
Fell by the same malignant roar
With the last ounce of honor ousted
A wholesale slaughter of goods
The righteous never had rights
They were all impaled right where they stood
Chipped and chopped, peeling off their gown
Though high above they never looked down
Those who bear the caring crown
Are those who are hunted down
Not left to rest nor to rot in peace
Not for soil to absorb and eat
They were treated and embalmed
Preserved like a psalm of living dead meat
Their bodies stacked as ramparts
Murdered pillars meant to protect
The correct living from foreign forgiving
Where honest actions don't seem suspect
Hiding behind carcass barricades
Buried deep within a fortress built
From the forest which in haste, it did replace
The true source of our enforced guilt
All hell is hailed by fanciful freaks who flail
In fading fads stirred with feathers and fur
Hieronymus Harp
I know that I have long been doomed
To the realm of eternal terror,
But the ironic laughs resume
When I find I'm already there
Hell, for me, is all that we've built
With our sick, imaginative quilts
Where escape is our one desire,
Married with excuses to retire
Our decisions help us deteriorate
But with a closer look, our minds dilate
While a solid offering will banish
What long ago should have vanished
We looked out our blurry windows
Where there once were the gaping holes
But now we've drawn heavy curtains
So we can scroll through deep loopholes
I'm strung up through taut steel strings
Of the sharp Hieronymus hell harp,
Ceaselessly, she saws and she sings
To the screams of all my ripping scars
The language of prayer I'd refused to speak
For I'd rather hang tight than be
Flushed out the swollen derriere
Of our devil on his night chair
Wisdom ruptures the refuge dome
While my pleas hoist up the mainsail
To safely return to rooted homes
Before our fragile lifeboat fails
But we'd be not mortified, should we capsize
For they've siphoned our pride
And replaced merry attitudes
With a myriad of plain platitudes
Is the imminent any more tragic
Than a birth into this world of woes,
If we're ruffled by natural magic?
When the new enters, the old goes...
The Unmoved Mover
Some fear the nothing, eternal
While some find it a sweet relief
Some fear our abundance of freedom
Armed to their cut teeth
Everywhere that I go,
There is nobody nowhere and though
Our landscape's a pale unknown
They are incontinent plateaus
Some believe that the unmoved mover
With his horseman of minty green provide
A meaning outside what we may prefer
Pray tell, oh, flawed creator of our lives
Choices may be illusions
But right now, control is what I feel
I don't give a damn if they're predetermined
I won't be forced to kneel
Restrictions will wind us up
Yet we renounce responsibility
Allowing fabled, bad, blind faith
To forge cacophonies
People are more easily fooled than convinced
That they've been fooled, it's been said
Their teeth sink in each time we flinch,
And when we struggle, their grip tightens to further embed
His cart has an axle that creaks
Though it drips with dead human grease
Our sorrow now guzzled with glee
Stabs a soft self-effigy
Emerging from the evil wilderness
Outside Meinong's Jungle gate
I glimpse the idolatress
Who states that we're not safe
Mounted upon seven beastly heads
She raises the chalice of martyr blood
And in her scarlet forehead carved
“The Harlot Mother of Earthly Abominations”
Elders
The line is fine between
The charlatan and the fool
Our children, they laugh and they sob
When their elders steal or get robbed
Quartered at the crossroads
By interactions which tether
The naive to the depleted
We're cheated 'till we're defeated
The vacant cherubs may
Put on some pointless play
From their hive, ready to contrive
Yet another game
While the all-knowingly insane
Fall into the high-rising flames
Of all that infiltrates
Their ill and waning brains
To some, they all may appear just the same
Caught coughing in a hall of mirrors
For in this locked furnace, we remain
Attempts to not be swallowed
By our ever-changing times
Fight the tides to grasp positions
Which tempt with prideful crime
In the end, will reduction,
In us, be implanted?
Or with our heroes spent,
Will combustion,
To us all, be granted
As we fall?
Return to Moving Silt
Birthed wriggling 'round roots
Up from the mossy beneath
Not a fiend, nor friend
Pass their rusting, wild sheaths
We bow before the keepers
Who hold outstretched hands
Soaring o'er the shrine of spores
“Survival” is our command
Nunquam obliviscar
Ne puero gladium
Homo homini lupus
Non timebo mala
Simple plans are sold
And thus begins her funeral dirge
Upon a stable stance of mold
The new evil's emerged
While distant, echoing mirths
Engrave a fashioned path
The flick'ring torch of Earth
Lifts its weight of thundering wrath
Nunquam obliviscar
Ne puero gladium
Homo homini lupus
Non timebo mala
What we fetch up from the well
Shows not our reflection
For surrogate dirt licks its kin
Spilling pride infection
To claim thine dusted soil
Is to poison Mother's milk
It's her, we can't outwit
'less we return to moving silt
Nunquam obliviscar
Ne puero gladium
Homo homini lupus
Non timebo mala
From Womb-to-Tomb
The first dawn had crowed, then sighed
All that was once near, soon became distant
The dank plumage gave loitering eyes
Revealings of strain, set to a resistant refrain
A horned crown sprouts from thy head
When salvation becomes salivation
Dead and gone means another is fed
To what shall we give our brute dedication?
Time slithers down the closing funnel
And with it waning concentration
Sacrificing the light through some tunnel
For demon sages of anticipation
The skills of which had been ingrained
Shall now, only accumulate pain
Through practice, traction is not gained
For our efforts are punctured and drained
With the boat, one is no longer moved
Though they're tempted by lures and bait
Means of escape are suddenly removed
But to compromise is to castrate
Visions erupt waves of deep concern
Inherent disorder will never perish
Harken back to a calm that can be discerned
And to its moments forever cherish
Thoughts buzz around thy head like pesky flies that will not die
The mind corrodes as they slip through each 'tempt to grasp
Our mentor becomes the tormenter in every room
From the time we leave our womb 'til we enter our tomb
The Twine of Myths
With our scattered rights and freedoms flung
These dependencies had not been wrung
But the twine of myths then held us dear
Wrapped us up, drunk and fraught with fear
We formed cozy covens of the wood
For a lack of evil does not one good
Where the twine of myths kept us all close
Deep in our hovels, where the fires rose
Fictions climb high up angel limbs
While their vines unwind in spiritual hymns
As for those unbound by the tail of tales
The twine finds the throats of the ones who assail
Indelibly woven through sinews and fungi
We're spent 'till we're bent, facing only the sky
With groves set ablaze, dark trumpets moan
Unleashing sweeping floods from our impotent thrones
Some perch on the wall, eating dung, drinking piss
Left with wanton hunger – curiosity, amiss
Our breath fans the flame, to lift and inflate our lore
Scalding fellow men who seem too pure to ignore
All our nations
Will die over generations
But as they pass
More myths will rise up
Like dew from the grass