Ever catch eyes with yours? Between you,
A glimpse becomes a gaze, and you both
Hold it so long that the iris sparkle
Paints your days and your hellish nights.

Ever come down upon those restless nights?
Memories become the difference between
What was and what could be. Those eyes,
Those met on an Autumn day, they are dreams
Of grief for that moment lost. Dreams
Not empty, but snuffed out,
Remnants of a fervent glare long gone.

Tossed and shorn is the past where we fall,
Fall in love. Wild and windswept is the rut
Where we're headed. The caught and glimpsed
I remember drunkenly. The hopes and
Dreams flit in never ending horror.
Nothing can be grasped or held,
Except those eyes,
Their gaze locked with mine.

The glass pane reflects
That soft glint of a lost love,
Yet never reveals it clear:
Rather sharp, broken, as if
Shattered by your heart's recede,
And glaring with cracks and corners
The sun's beams in blinding light.
Those memories, that glass pane,
Their presence disturbs you, yet
To lose your opaque, shattered window
Is to lose that happy sight into
The open spaces of your heart.
Do not replace that window. Let it
Bore its presence, but build a new one,
And be more careful.

You must get close to the king
And kneel to his whim
So you can slash at his legs.
After you kiss his feet, make his bed
While the hoards amass,
You hide under his nightmares
And emerge to tear his insides out.
You must bow to the Beast
To end his tyranny and oppression
And for the sake of the weak
Crusade against the strong.
Topple the pillars and dethrone
The master, just so you can
Build your own palace, usurp his seat,
****** your own people,
And eat your own flesh
While you wait like him.

Would a child from a swing in play
Jump wildly, wing tossed through the day,
To be lost in sand and find a love
For wordplay?

The world is my oyster, and
I am the pearl within it, though
I am sure of the white hard
Diamonds strewn alongside me
That share the view of our
Dotted night sky, that reflect
The prophecy of a new dawn, and
An utter mass of plodding light
Warmth, but cold amongst a lost
Night sky.

A day's light in morning asked of me,
Took the dense hole, wished for
Some, from my whispering grasp
And thawed it glinting in the sky
Liquid, sugar, to fall between
The fingers grasped my emotion
****** soaked with midnight desire seen
Sweet smelling of hallucinations,
Well wishers, and shysters of the
Sticky night before. I told him, I said:
"Went gone my mother, before me
I lived a life and I lay on my deathbed,
Frightened of the days I lost
And the love I could not remember."
I looked to my life's gut and implored
Him: "Your hands cradle what with
All I could accomplish, and not,
All I could ask, all I can't know,
Return my consciousness, I ask,
Return what I had before my
Drift into the sea, cast rejected,
And lost in a nightmare."
The morning nodded, shook my
Greasy sweat tinged hands, me awake,
And fell away distant to the horizon beyond
To become just a rising glint in my eye
A lightly pierced sky appearing before me.

We ran low on grass and leaves
Yes, to eat and lose our brains.
We are sculptors, the artists
Who mold minds beholden
To dried tubers, leftover from
The smithy winter, gnawed
Treadsweet atop a hike of
Lowdown proportions,
Seen with an upturned glance,
Where atop their mountainrange
A light pinkpurple sky waning orange
To ******* heights greeting with despair
And thrusting up a torch to the air
With idyllic and winsome divine,
An event, this epic and christening,
Illustrated to every relief and contour
By a prompted member of our party,
A respectable integral to the species,
To roar behind with vigor and flatulence
And such stench to twist the nose,
Laughing in his hand chocolate,
Warning of the flags raised in the distance.
A moment of premonitory silence.