Breathing Seed                           If I was here

Sprouting acres                          If I was Worldly Deed                             If ISetting Tracers                          IfShouting Chords                       IClanging Mashing                     ExistedWitching Hour                           Would you be hereTidal Power                               Would you beMicrophonic                              Would youHibernating the meaning           WouldSweeping away hopes                The world standWhen faces light                        Stand on it's ownIn dawning moon                      Shoulders Eclipse tune                              Would the skyAnd anamnesis swoons             Fall as pieces ofSupple tower                             Puzzles onto theRiddled hands                           Floor, anxietyOf lovers on frosted steam        Swims currentsEmpire grounded down to wire  Through theSpiral Staircase                           Myth that isRounds chambers                       Me and youOf mindful states                        And all ofStable gates                                Us we are lostRelease all fate                            In the earth

I can't wait till I'm awake..
Plugged into the wall.
Nothing noted until the shell of the capsule
collapses under the weight of your trembling hands.

No there is no notation for what was said between us, just figure-less voices and a strenuous pain that strained our throats for the fear of nothing being communicated between the exasperated gasps of what was less than incommunicable silence.

Ugly is not a word but a feeling applied with meaning, applied to a certain truth about that metallic taste in my mouth, that tearful pain jostled in my chest and that consuming fear.

  I know little of what this ugliness could mean other than it harbors shame in my corners. This shame is not inborn in anyone, but it builds it's presence as a drunken braggart who shouts obscenities and believes he is a prince of highest regard.

His ugliness is in what he slings from his tongue and his criticisms of all who in his mind toil about. But he is simply a angry troll with no heart and delusions of grandeur, frittering away time.. for time stands as an eternal judge and measure.