Of Smoke and Mirrors

smoke....born of the flame
a sign of smoldering embers
composed of fragmentary dreams

or a wind flown mist
of translucid rainbows
scooped up
from languid shores

hiding reason
or life's frailties
and adding a hint of wildness
to any dish

it's not a calculated obstruction,
it but wants those it has enveloped
to rummage for terra firma

and you can have dialogue
with it, if you only know
the screen's tattoo

now mirrors....

coat within
to recognize
planar counterparts

curve them
to espy
convergent caves
or intersecting vexes

glaze without
to inspect
parabolic light from stars
or the leftover crumbs of life

layer the lacquer atoms thick
and the dark will see,
the light are blind

bend the colors
to annihilate
or acquaint

but the special ones
oh, the special ones
they grant Aranmula's luck

so the question remains....
can wild light refractions
ever interface
with scrambled motes?
can confoundment
ever synthesize?

Above the Ground

willing oddness
speak and want,
noisey sameness
stays the door

tilt and feint
the gilded french,
dig then yell
and spend the demand
right upgraded
cries when blown,
wasted attention
cause no one knows

dried up shame
luck too deformed
nothing but
fuzzed paper....
would dying be
obvious?

surfing the blood
on a necklace with wings
tacky yesterdays
and practical
competitions

violent summer reason
gone down to honesty
morning's half
journey, a massive stray
with tongues flung
round futures spelled
and cliffs that shook
worshipped the dirt

flayed brain gravity
using pathetic microlights,
grouped knowledge
that's rainbow incited
licking blindness
nobody expressed,
someone else's topic
walking through doors

you can hear
the trapped moments
dreaming their offenses
on the sideline
and the yellow undertow
with it's addictive sounds,
ones we can't have
above the ground

Mental Bogeymen

over seas
and under
eclipsed humps
of senseless
experience
mental
bogey men
hitching
programs
that taste
of bismuth
and sound
did you hear
the tablets
when they fell?
the line
took offense
yet followed
and returned

it only takes
a second
to refuse
warmth hours
old
near death
survived and
slept with,
a something mood
checked and
unexpected,
fundamental
idiocy
discussed
with the abyss
and the loser
shines neath
the inside
sky

God's Lil Joke

icy waters
underground
insane slayers
lead
the address
mine
inkeep thanked
threshold
left and center

behind
crooked marsh
creep rivers red
the soul's tears
blending
gentle
do i fight?
from the depths
of lost?
oh, god's lil joke
searched and
random

The Color Blue

cobalt skies so clear
you can survey the ancient words
traversing them far and close
in an unknown patois

ultramarined waves so smooth
you can repose on satin opulance
cherished as a bebe
while lihtan shoots
traipse those wide skies

teal smoke so revealing
accepting all and essence
designs covined and lain
seen through to creation's birth

blu rooms......
yes, the familiar hollow for now
but for those lost
on their way to destiny
there is always respite found

exit gently....

visual ache
strong and cleansed
protective, suited
answers hell's
season, warm
and meaningless
amongst active fields
of spore
sight unseen
involving lights
and knifed nerves

paying nonsense
to cover up
maturity born
of belittled spawn
horribly effective
those mistaken actions
and blasted
mines of gold
multi-cursed
placed and balanced
ejeculating reams
and fathoms
of unique lipped
scent

glow in the dark
significance
fits into pinkened
hooks, shining,
found beyond
the freakish chatter
a thousand hands old
intention's fodder
a deaths echo
with a dash of oil
the fire, patient
burns remains
that exit gently....