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neth-jonesPoems
the penters brutal militia now marches scopic through a portal truncated pass... In unailing sleep      i taunt the spheres        and demand the negatives scream out elements strike runted ire          at the worlds great forgeries dream #1 an ancient cottage is clouted to the ground paff ! borned a charred magician trick   rapid sporing    inflating to a build     then pressure cooked         packed with smoke                   compounded by fire               in a quenched **** of energy                             a construction                      beams and rocks                 a hearth is hearted             a mantle mounted    feasted together       and clenched in a furious shrine i emaciate in the quiet storm of collected electric i must test this unruin i put an assertive foot over the threshold and... i am pulled to the lovers an attention away from here downed on the bedroom floor ridiculous pillow strapped to my ridiculous head i stand stammer frustrations and running on an internal gut of turbulence i slam home back through bed dream #2 my burnt match form all fours on a beach my spiny digits plugged under the baking sand straining the salt and murky charity darkening the sand with impurities and forgiving the sea a pure revealing clarity the formal sun now casts without interruption (just a little refractive kink) water cleared blinding the blind of the ocean floor all Eves and Adams startled by their **** branded world shamed traffic of disorientated prehistoric sealife batting about in the garish aftermath i resolve to the lovers face down ******* huffs against the mattress i flip over and zip back in hands clamped dream #3 simple streets and the bedside knife i greet and greet the first is a nop the second a lancing wound the wound takes a lacing a bled string and they are gratefully hauled with grace to the sky as though plucked by weather balloon i am busy                               in distribution of the lovers dishonestly forecast to a haven in grave i'll wake           work satifified                               but both revved and worn
0
Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 12:40 AM UTC
...in a healing sleep... (anger)
the penters brutal militia now marches scopic through a portal truncated pass... In unailing sleep      i taunt the spheres        and demand the negatives scream out elements strike runted ire          at the worlds great forgeries dream #1 an ancient cottage is clouted to the ground paff ! borned a charred magician trick   rapid sporing    inflating to a build     then pressure cooked         packed with smoke                   compounded by fire               in a quenched **** of energy                             a construction                      beams and rocks                 a hearth is hearted             a mantle mounted    feasted together       and clenched in a furious shrine i emaciate in the quiet storm of collected electric i must test this unruin i put an assertive foot over the threshold and... i am pulled to the lovers an attention away from here downed on the bedroom floor ridiculous pillow strapped to my ridiculous head i stand stammer frustrations and running on an internal gut of turbulence i slam home back through bed dream #2 my burnt match form all fours on a beach my spiny digits plugged under the baking sand straining the salt and murky charity darkening the sand with impurities and forgiving the sea a pure revealing clarity the formal sun now casts without interruption (just a little refractive kink) water cleared blinding the blind of the ocean floor all Eves and Adams startled by their **** branded world shamed traffic of disorientated prehistoric sealife batting about in the garish aftermath i resolve to the lovers face down ******* huffs against the mattress i flip over and zip back in hands clamped dream #3 simple streets and the bedside knife i greet and greet the first is a nop the second a lancing wound the wound takes a lacing a bled string and they are gratefully hauled with grace to the sky as though plucked by weather balloon i am busy                               in distribution of the lovers dishonestly forecast to a haven in grave i'll wake           work satifified                               but both revved and worn
early 1st verse - [bedside knife                     red bulb flashlight    fixture my quaggy cranium     lashed brightly to a pillow      secure in a flight      nocturnally occupied      tuned to a volatile folly    hosted most thorough running on an internal gut of turbulence]
#dreams#anger#sleep
neth-jones
Written by
neth-jones
Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 12:40 AM UTC
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