pejorative memes remade unwise,
the natural artifice of slang;
and the mnemo-linguistic "advantages" of being called a ******...*

arbitrary signs..

chosen  reasoned    signs.

i don't remember history, living it as
predetermined amens sinking blind
profane in sacred incense dogmas polished
                 elemental airs of azure old allure
named aesthetics new and purely false
    unlike a snakeback break
    they realm of fear indulged--
placate artistries of loving touch to numb;
with medieval noose, blade;
          scald of iron pen and human metaphors for *******
    sent to human metaphors for hell before their deaths
to burn as scapegoats for immortal xenophobic herds
remade

this is a word's weight
  now,
  for all unhearing yet apologistic legend-churners earthling-bound:
one witchhunt grin and phrase
--legend or not, urban or pagan--
    will burn me here
    to face imaginal apotheosic
   dawn
   of bigotry complete
.
in long-yearned laughter, musics
     yet unleased to propagandist aims:
empty prayers undone as selfish grims
  i do without
  as any fairy might
        with dusty wave of hand
my wings are spillful everjoys
    of momentary vasts
          of ancient youths; of loves of
    glittered rainbow in the hush of sunfall snow--
escapes of real dismissed
   all
    real
       fiction-true truths
                                bearing living worlds of love
and labyrinthine strands? and twisted more, ripe!
      for shock and awe filled fuel
      sierra-cut at ranges incomplete as Tolkien Silmarils
                                i brace the let of leavings-be
sever severed links in inner chains of links
    to remake ****** moonbeam skirt
    of spectra cloud and starry breath
---the window opens maths of savor
        (apsaras! tulpas!)
        surveyed in the tones of healing buildings
        shaped of love

huddled shapes of perfect friends
                   all craning necks to common interstellar home

i could be clear and disagreement wright
but i am here to feel ineffables of ******* felt
fall  up    from anger
        into union's many-petaled rifting veils
and in a citrus spray of scattered mists unshared
a stillness swim of happily amused
    awake a zombie-language only Borges knew
        to burn a mark of joy on history's flesh
a hidden question-heart of sensuistic quest whose end is known
    and yet exclaimed unknown
    as glories only moving rainbows know
hang-glide words to shadow-stripe the eyes
                       and dash Mneumosyne another arching voice

Someone wants to go to a
beach,
the other wanna go to a
waterfall,
I need be sitting all alone in yellow                            
desert,watching mesmeirising
sunfall !!

there's those little things
you know the one's i'm talking about,
that make life as special as it is

the smell of rain hitting the bruised and broken sidewalk
the feeling of sand grasping onto your vulnerable toes
the crunch of autumn leaves begging for forgiveness
the day you realize, hey
i really love myself today

the crackling orchestra of post-sunfall bonfires
the book you can never really find the time to put down
the tea that brings your world to peace
the cafe that always welcomes you with open arms

the feeling of hugging somebody you love with everything inside of you
the sunrise, that can just be seen over the forest of trees
the stars that shine brighter than an eternity of smiles

the feeling of your decadent sheets after a long and stressful day
the freedom that comes with driving destination-less
the comfort of your friends and family
and the warmth of your favourite blanket

the joy found in adventure
the sound of nature
the act of finding a mix tape that perfectly sums up your current emotions
the creativity found in the far corners of your mind

you see friends?
there's so many things we take for granted
so many things that make us happy
that pass us by each day
without even the slightest clue

sit back
relax
enjoy these little areas of life

for one day,
you may never be able to experience them again.

hs

three words melting
upon your tongue
a honeyed tide,
heart awash

a drop of sunfall
upon your skin
garden lungs
a rose petal mouth

an unknown name
upon your throat
a silent prayer
you, you, you.

moving on to eighteen,
lost in loving a velvet
silhouette of a dream.

with hands off the world
as it open-heartedly spins
winds and rings and pearls,

delft blue skies dim down & done
leaving in the care of the night
the light refracted from the sun.

shadows blurred to one behind
closed eyes, where reality subsided,
relighting beloved falsehoods in mind:

instants of fleeting transient sparks
abscond tips of fireworks in air
with scarce care whilst piercing dark.

but alas blinding sun returns, flooding down
reality sustained, killing all sparks
without a single one extinguished.

lost in love, then loved & lost
enveloped in limits,
submitting to sunfall.

Just on the other side, the path disintegrates.
The clear border fences stop
and you are forced to face the chaos
without the clarity of those who have gone before you,

forced to fall back on your ancient teaching
of sunfall and internal compasses,
trusting the lichen on trees and sharp shadows
to lead you, if not to your destination,

at least to safety