the grand tilt

words
fly back and forth
can anyone catch them?
decipher them?
embrace them?
what means one thing to another
means volumes to the next
or nothing to a passer-by
will ever the twixt meet?
but you see, it's really just air
being pushed back and forth

come
come away with meaning
run
run far with intent
I won't catch you
I don't have a clue why we're all here

I'm still bedazzled by the verbiage
so eloquent
so heart-felt
so full of rotting shit

arrows of reason gone off the mark
was your goal to ensnare me?
I watch the mental barrage
confused
distracted
open hearted
....destroyed
this bull's eye is painted blue....
for resignation

and the purpose of those words?
did I even rub near?
or was I too busy chasing after
flowery and nether
phrases of profundity,
too close to the universe's rim
to notice I had left behind
no markers for retreat?

the faire has come to town
and befuddlement sets in
when the jugglers do their grand tilts
but please,
don't bother your little head over spilt intent

why don't i feel anything?
is this numbness?
or is this just the lot of those
washed up on the shores
of holocastic fits of awareness?

the folly and the ectasy

have you ever taken a trip into madness?
oh, I don't mean go mad on your own steam,
slipping into that place,
that comfortable place that harbors no good will

no, I mean a trip, a real jog across dimensions,
one where the button on your jacket
gets caught on the coat tails
of a frequent traveler

a trip so surreal, so absurd, so sublime....
can I say that? without appearing trite?
hmmm, I guess so
since I'm a drifter too

this destination seems almost familiar
the vista
the visions
the voices
even the circular landing patterns,
that perpendicular swing of fractured emotions,
so familiar.....

is this destination a vacation spot for many?
it almost seems....like home
the folly and the ectasy,
the truant mind-voyager's terminal....
yep....right at home

the dance of the effigy

flailing,
the wicker-visaged scarecrow
is once again used as a bon voyage
for emotions gone cascading towards extinction

it's hollow veins and dry shell course
with parallel memories that never made sense

it doesn't speak nor give any indication
that it is even viable....
but look closely,
closer
close as you dare

that's not dew on it's straw cheeks,
that my friends is moisture
condensed from a heart
battle-wrung with the
vigorous denials of life,
the whys and wherefors
simply dust in it's mouth

the drizzle, so necessary for speach
never makes it home
before the dessication hits

no words can be spoken
for the arid atmosphere
is not conducive to affection

feel sorrow for this flapping effigy,
it is misunderstood and ignored
by those beings made of earthly flesh

but you know......
this lonely beacon
would petition for feelings too
if all weren't so greedy with their hearth
and foes

onus operandi

oh that old demon regret
what's the old saying?
hindsight is 50/50?

shoulda
woulda
did I?

yea....you did
get over it
you're gonna have a lot of such episodes
in this fun place called life
you can't live in the past
that bye is gone

and why did you?
the 20 million dollar question....
because at the time
it seemed like the right thing to do?
hmmm?

were you questioning yourself at the time?
no, you probably weren't
so why now?

guilt?
guilty?
guillotined?

human conscious
a bruised ego that needs to be stroked
or the devil's handiwork?
idle minds and all that....
another one of those platitudes

zwaard

flashing foible of blood and flame
leashing reason
imbuing the wielder with unmeasurable dao
to engage, retaliate
and furnish answers
swung and hung to intellect's hilt

the flash of insight
as it descends to decision
wracked with morality's edge
......a two-headed split
one to passion
the other falls 'long violence
ripe with jehad

the phallic swallowing
of power coroneted
with will and mercy,
virility, heresay
religion, state
and faith

it's tang strong and rarefied
edged with the sun's corona
and spleen's animus
the ricasso mark
a ten petaled manipura
assimilating the prey's birr......
in the sweetest of passion's
euphorias

orbis singulus

aberrant particles static bound with introspection's
deep well of soul wrenching compromise,
the exclusive tread the most desired of options,
though for some a burden of abysmally monumental proportions

quarantined by choice, the retreat into wilderness
welcomed...sought...embraced
outre perceptions battered by quixotic auras
bent on breaching mile-high columned shrieks
of agonizing rarity....
those misguided baffoons of society's twisted hauntings,
pleating at some unknown junction,
their influx warped, battered,
rubbing impregnable, dangerous,
elliptical seams

oh, to be abandoned....
with ever-receding assumptions
washing out to far-flung black holes,
hanging amongst insignificant husks of scoured refuse

weid

frilled leather wafting on heated breeze
the voir floats
flirts
strikes
with no cumpuncture
for reeling ardor

oh that little girl
such a vicious vixen
so affectionate to those of like ilk
it takes a master of spite
to master the sprite

pacing her dominion, scrying facets
obsessed over spilt gratification
she is a feverish counterpoint
to vision gone rampant

take aim and cast the dragonette's gasp,
lie low, hold back
to reap and seed the destruction
of her gilded talons dipped in fiery bliss
....such a loving monster