The white noise has direct interface
with the synapses in my brain
making ants sketch across my skin
in a drunken address.
Bellicose shadows raise their fists
and wrap me in flags of color
while merging into a large edifice
with a wide open mouth
and protruding nose.
Wrenching my feet from the baloney trap
go take a round of the mulberry bush
counting the pennies dropped on the ground
by the ones who crossed onward
with the ferryman on the boat.
Footprints on soft mud
thud like batons against a hard thigh
easy to miss but not to be dismissed
they are like camouflaged quarry
in a kept heap of rye.

Twirl the ring around my finger
when I flip you the bird,
hold a halo and a forked tail
in crowded comfort.
Rose-tinted eyes blink in mystique
when the alluring panther
roars in defeat.
Defiance is heady;
a few pounds of snow,
am lost in sensation
when you pound the door.
There is no faces; but places and noise
and few open cases left on the floor.
Roll a bottle till it clinks on the wall,
when I lie in pieces,
before I take the fall.

Taking
off
my
shoes
as
they
wore
off
when
I
took
this
wrong
route.

I drizzle like rain clouds;
in a stormy weather I blow
might gusts of wind that rattle
and shatter staid glass doors.

Enough now of the molten sun;
no need for the lava that flows inside.
We are made of sterner stuff,
all we need is two plonks of ice!

Like the nauseating rumble
crawling up my throat, I glide
in the sheath of subdued sensation
all is well, all is alright.

There is little to do
when I'm struck
by the sheer brilliance of it all;
there is no mystery to eternity,
no carnal creation of lust,
but only one human body
bestowed
upon a wandering mind.

Blinded.
Glaring golden eyes (beam)
serpent -tongues murmur
(slitherrry, sliperryy)
careless mistakes.

Venom drips drop drop
Forked mind (confused)
Bend in, burn out
(flipetty flappetty flop)

Crocodile
tears soon run dry
enemy –turned-friend
(back-stab me)
I’ll bend.

The veil is now unravelled,
the storm dust now blown,
when left with the calm after the storm
even deciduous time seems forlorn.
There is the perfunctory trial
of breathing air to sustain,
yet in the end, I revive what,
the beliefs I let go,
the conviction from which I abstain?
I then saw reason, in this miniscule delight
of finding a realm that is positively alight
with candour and supremacy,
they regale without caution,
and entertain as they must,
in words left unspoken,
they reveal more than just.
The truth though is bespoken,
within the confines of deceit,
while the soul hunts for absolution
the mind quakes in defeat.
Annihilation is the quest,
that brought me to this place,
the answer that will be found,
is am I in passing,
or here to stay?