What is imagination, but life's
   longing an impossible dream,
a tickling of inner cravings
  as the voice of splendor,
wherewithal's purpose
flourished in veritable endeavors
    of stylistic appropriations,
yearning amidst clouded vapors
  dispersing recognition's
     declaration of id's odyssey,
an idea in transformation
  that which awakens
   substantial sustenance
        nourishing spirit's nature,
  a psychic boon, abstruse or surreal
       motivating individuality's
            creative impulses
           differentiating experience's
       uniqueness mid an ultimate
                  mind blowing instinctive force

Life is much
like bread,
some prefer
that  pre-sliced
was already invented,
               *others like to
                              make their
                                      own cut above

Her breath was
   poetically zoetic,
     so ethereal ~
        she could fly

A swashbuckler
who sharpened
    his sword
upon unkind
     poetic words

Hopelessly entranced
      by the dance of poetry,
              and vice versa

Euphoric Sunday morning,
      fluff blissful, feathery pillows -
         still resonating the
               scent of night
        beyond supernova's
             transcendent certainty,
   whence gods were called
       upon by name,
            reverberating
               over
                   and over
                        again