Below the surfaceless
looking above
under the furls of wavering clouds
all you'd see is that untouched stare
an absence of warmth disclosed
elapsing over,
collapsing over
you
Shallows edges so elusive,
as obscure as a serpents nest
anonymous as the rest,
intrusive like these dated feelings
and yet those eyes like minds wander
wonder as if it's ever been to lie beyond
those gated passages to Edens flowers
a pocket of hours been laid before you,
Ghosts.
And the continuance to roam
inside of these channels
left empty and vacuous
so out of depth,
with filtering essence of memory
faltering lights of ambiguity,
letting the pieces drip upwards
you’re alone together with what ties are to be had
you speak as through the pith
of this insecurity,
the plight of this immaturity
a footstep in the waters
spilling from your tongue.
Venture from the beginning
a start to finish
as though time bounded in ripples
your tinted sight lines
undesigned and impalpable
even through strategy
under the palms, your hands,
the happens mind of another kind,
settling not in stones but
in sands
a habitual mess of ingraining
always draining and seeping
never enclosing,
fostered only by a feint solace
in the flooded catacombs of yours.
A participance of midnights moons
in these swimming conversations,
cycled discussions
the rising tides of snake eyes
with one onerous touch
submerging your voice
into a fragmented drowse
burning notes left from pictures
choking out all that swirls
the delirious magnetism of weight that pulls to you
creating an astringent terrain,
as your blood is spilling down
a pipeless drain.
A manifestation of ego's brain bubbling down
under the masque of self-worth and integrity
into a thick mud
painted with entitlement
across a dotted line
the deeds of your fascinations
possessions to another
inclinations unbeknownst to you,
against the black skies
opposing truths of deflection
you find yourself with silkless ink
writing what you think it to be
beyond your skin
and the closer the pen drips
the tighter the bolts become
on the grips over your perception
a darker rainstorm
straining out
lifelessly.
Pressure slowly eased
into soothful washing
though cliffs eroded from memory
cresting the hall
that remains beneath
as a little boy
with glassless eyes
and a mouth full
of rose thorns,
Greeting you
To the welcomes of goodbyes,
until the shrill whispers
of the sirens of deception call you
once more
threading over your faces
elapsing the rims of reality,
overgrowing its garden
into a shipwrecked valley
warped by tainted reveries.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 4:39 PM UTC
Below the surfaceless
looking above
under the furls of wavering clouds
all you'd see is that untouched stare
an absence of warmth disclosed
elapsing over,
collapsing over
you
Shallows edges so elusive,
as obscure as a serpents nest
anonymous as the rest,
intrusive like these dated feelings
and yet those eyes like minds wander
wonder as if it's ever been to lie beyond
those gated passages to Edens flowers
a pocket of hours been laid before you,
Ghosts.
And the continuance to roam
inside of these channels
left empty and vacuous
so out of depth,
with filtering essence of memory
faltering lights of ambiguity,
letting the pieces drip upwards
you’re alone together with what ties are to be had
you speak as through the pith
of this insecurity,
the plight of this immaturity
a footstep in the waters
spilling from your tongue.
Venture from the beginning
a start to finish
as though time bounded in ripples
your tinted sight lines
undesigned and impalpable
even through strategy
under the palms, your hands,
the happens mind of another kind,
settling not in stones but
in sands
a habitual mess of ingraining
always draining and seeping
never enclosing,
fostered only by a feint solace
in the flooded catacombs of yours.
A participance of midnights moons
in these swimming conversations,
cycled discussions
the rising tides of snake eyes
with one onerous touch
submerging your voice
into a fragmented drowse
burning notes left from pictures
choking out all that swirls
the delirious magnetism of weight that pulls to you
creating an astringent terrain,
as your blood is spilling down
a pipeless drain.
A manifestation of ego's brain bubbling down
under the masque of self-worth and integrity
into a thick mud
painted with entitlement
across a dotted line
the deeds of your fascinations
possessions to another
inclinations unbeknownst to you,
against the black skies
opposing truths of deflection
you find yourself with silkless ink
writing what you think it to be
beyond your skin
and the closer the pen drips
the tighter the bolts become
on the grips over your perception
a darker rainstorm
straining out
lifelessly.
Pressure slowly eased
into soothful washing
though cliffs eroded from memory
cresting the hall
that remains beneath
as a little boy
with glassless eyes
and a mouth full
of rose thorns,
Greeting you
To the welcomes of goodbyes,
until the shrill whispers
of the sirens of deception call you
once more
threading over your faces
elapsing the rims of reality,
overgrowing its garden
into a shipwrecked valley
warped by tainted reveries.
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