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Morgan Aug 2016
.

maybe i am dead
just like the stars reflecting into me

i look
so that i see those blinking redgreen lights
they are all mixed up with the cosmic web
and going fast
away from me

the only other place i would like to be
if not inside that distant traveler

is pressed down deep into the earth

by our holder
who remains relentless

in a constant flux
between
the mundanity of an endless expanse

and pushing those
mechanical things
down
Morgan Oct 2016
I was there

in a vision of permanence
enlivened entirely in the reflection of your geometric eyes, until

I witnessed you turn your hands into lines
I noticed as you ceased to blink
I marveled at its precision

I giggled at my ambit
I giggled at my dimensions
I marveled at my own precision

I removed my layer from your eyes
Morgan Apr 2022
I found comradory in the street cats

They amused themselves by batting a clutter of objects discarded and
blown away by a huff of coarse air

they pounce distractedly after hours
away from the skew of ‘not name’ names given
by those who entice them out for affection during working hours
(whom, with distrustful eyes and elongated spines
they surveilled carefully, of course)

As I noticed the cats lingering outside and in my head
You noticed me
your huntress batting around at the strands of objects over her head
tumbling with the crumpled up receipts of memories
scratching up the snapshots of past times
fiercely engaged in technicolor yarns of tangled thoughts

You left your bowl out for the pantheress
scavenging the abandoned parking lot in her mind
and listened to her hiss transform into a mew

Now here at the end of all things that Future
whispered falsely into our ears
cat’s got our tongues and
all that’s uttered is
“One day you will find happiness...”

Goodbye Dean-o
From your stray cat, your girl, your mo-mo
I’m not meant for a leash and a bowl of milk, but it was nice to indulge for just a little while.
Morgan Mar 2018
a series of negations
notated through angles
cascading, effervescent
in my life and wayward

my creation
an algorithmic error
personalized, recapitulated
almalgams of ones ones and zeros

looking back I see that sometimes
I would stitch together
turning melodies
from the sinews of the noise
I took from their bellies

but mainly, back then
I just drooled red into the clamor
-

a decade later I possess
striking imagery
my very own proverb
on visual omnipotence

but its tacky doesn’t oblige me
no more than the sheets of apathy
I peeled from my skin

I found a purpose that flows through my ears
and with it, happily I am
taken away
Morgan May 2019
Enter me, lovely
I am only for you
      
gift your fingertips to my vulnerability
let it open
you to the touch of virtue

press your tongue against my tears
revel in my incandescent suffering
drool into me the elixir
of your broad shoulders and will

with me your idea reaches beauty

I’ll lick the iron from your collarbone and ****
the pain out through your lips
and give you the taste of a delicacy
trembling
underneath compulsive tenacity

beneath my skin, your idea can birth beauty

let my light
push you out of your partitions
and gift you sight
of your own highest image

I’ll hold tight to your beauty while you don’t want it

let me carry the scent of sacrifice
for you to bottle as desire
breathe in the novelty of righteousness while I
rest

I’ll become an homage of fragility
for you to destroy

only know
I’m taking my beauty and your will
with me when I leave
Morgan Jul 2016
.

         amidst the black and blue of
         this deviant twilight i see
the canyons on my hand are deep
next to the smoothness of your face
         a series of spirals and peaks that
         sway and beckon and beckon and sway

behind your hazel eye there is  
a place void of Future
tucked deep underneath sluggish
innocent blinks, invoked
especially for me
            and i sit here alone underneath it all in
            a pile of blood and carbon
            and i breathe them in
            by myself

inevitable stains have grown right
where your mouth should be
            like a long awaited drag or perhaps like
            our religion

and the shaded peaks in a distant forest
call too loudly for me now
and it has me
           and i feel both this entrance and an exit  
           consuming my chest and my toes and
           it has me and i fear

it has me thinking
             and i fear i am gone
i wanted to believe so badly
it would be you
Morgan Aug 2016
there are so

many beautiful mirrors in cosmic reality

i indulge myself tonight in speculating
on the play
between water here and
the whole universe above

it manifests itself in
an ongoing shimmer
that shifts
between the two

almost as if they are comrades absorbed
in good humor enjoying an
old
omnipresent joke that

the conscious world will never know about.

(and here i am, the third wheel....)
Morgan Nov 2016
your gusto

ripping through my veins

'merican flags
trump supporters
platinum beer
fireworks flaring
fires visible atop seedy peeled-paint rvs

technicolor lights amped up on edgy recreational vehicles

4000 (BRIGHT BLUE), 6000 (BRIGHT GREEN), 750XR ON-AND-ON-AND

covered in dirt and filth

eating meat

sizzled atop  
flames atop
charcoal bricks and lighter fluid

complimented by krafts brand
mac n cheese

i am apart of it
you know
your triumph burns sticky, out of my skin

guiltily i came into being

birthed inside anthracitic sediments and lighter fluid

scratching, writhing, biting

at the mercy
of a hyper-paint / subtle-death encrusted
reality
Morgan Jun 2022
I hear you talk away from me.
Your short sighted breath for the wind to carry.

In the meantime my ears are filled
with the strokes of another’s gentle tongue.

You speak to her of similar things that you always say to me. Promises, impossible truths, of the boldness and strength you’d carry for me.

She melts for you unknowingly. She opens up and thinks your lovely, then collapses into you as a delicacy. You take her in, as you’d taken me, and in your arms she falls to prey.

Beating heart, frantically, I try to get away from you. And here he is, a better man, if only you could set me free. If I leave, will you let me?

Short sighted I contemplate, what have I done, and what’s left to come. I leave the good, to protect him from you and let your voice carry into me. Knowing full well it’s nothing but infectious gunk, it drips down my ears to my lungs. Serrated words meant to capture me, my lungs destroyed, I must tear them out. Barely alive, the way you like me. Filled with your poison and half myself, you want me to stay down right here.

You speak to her, and temporarily release me. My bones flood with relief and I collapse into sleep. Short sighted to engage with you. I run in my dreams and taste the fruit of free and lonely.
Morgan Jan 2016
Your sound is a vertical line behind my right eye
extending upwards
and downwards
infinitely
Morgan Jan 2016
Future idles at an angle
leaning anonymously amongst
a clutter of other objects

meanwhile
the hidden carpet of my childhood room
Flattens
Morgan Feb 2015
i am

i am underneath

melted slices of moon that mark lost time
and steal away the last flakes of sun

you left a void
that pulled me
once swimming through rhythmical currents
into stillness

i am

as the colors change
through golden glows to ashen grays
again and again and

i am underneath

dreaming of a quickening pulse
we once shared
a time
in the distance
where i could better map this
tilting sky

or forget it altogether
new version of an old poem for  song cycle
Morgan Feb 2015
there are
days and
times and
people and

my feet push on
like machinery
or maybe just objectively
trampling the shards
of a million different fragments of reality

i'm here still
in this pendulum of a place that
has always been

and
my feet and
my brain and
my hands

move too quickly but
my mouth does not

i'm still here
with these pieces
these pieces of body
that cost and
tick but

one day

and you
you resonate with a
yellow light that
means warmth   

with an ease a
heat a
‘diamond speckled’ smile

a form that parallels goodness

and
i'll stay here in my
clicking mechanisms

with
my scratches and
my bones and
my structure and

one day

one day i'll die
Morgan Sep 2021
I fought for you,
my sweet sky,
through your turbulence
as your own Amelia Earhart that you cast across your currents just to
pass the time

I floated through the patches of static
between breaths
even as my frame risked freezing over amidst the frigidity
with my last specks of warmth I cooed you to your next inhales
all the while knowing the wrath of your exhale was inevitably directed back
towards me

I see the forecast- it’s as clear as the air,
my dear deep blue,
you entertain thoughts of my plunge
amidst other travelers teetering across you at your horizon,
and as the vessel approaches
I have made my descent back
to the reality I buried
deep within the dirt

I’ll fight for you
but Baby Breeze,
I won’t fight over you

— The End —