Crackling. Rocking. Crackling. Creaking and oscillating, a century old **Mahogany Wood seceded to the paSsage of time.
Particles of sand, confounded by the Peninsula’s chaotic, blasting breeze now revealed a shade of burnt tar.
   Outside of the second floor Maissonette, sways the rocking chair once warmed by Grandpa.
A Tactless, impatient, rhythmic Requiem Bashes near the wiNdow pane as the sunset falls Under the frame.  
                                                        ­    Empty Folklore presides like the Residue of a once lambent effigy…                                               SwOosh. Hush!
           Cocktails were a Preamble to lunch like diabetes to Nephropathy.
Corrosive Rhetoric seeped in to expose the ego of a Sommelier.
     A smile would Parachute down when you needed it like Nicotine to remind that no Precedent had been set, just an Anomaly.
                     Cutthroat beginnings, this was no Analog man.
        In grade school his Cosmos found Zion and “The world to come”.
        This baby’s Cradle, abandoned High atop a mountain was blown by a Chinook towards the Atlantic.
                “I was found swallowed in a stained Table cloth by Balkan children on a treasure hunt, with no Guarantee and no resignatIon. "
                     The boTtle narrates these chronicles and a smile parachutes down when you need it like nicotine.
                                          Dionysus Crafted his accounts while most Garnered his spiels with Snide.                               As they witnessed dream remembrance; he thought his memory was Presumably accurate, and although his tales were triFling to the gathering audience, they became his Heliocentric history.
            Calling me a young Galleon and handing me a map, Grandpa scanned his hand across the vast land
       guaranteeing trEasure would be found if I had no resignation.
               This Asinine assertion to my teenage sister Symbolized the Barring of her unheeding imagination by time and then a smile parachuted down just when she needed it like nicotine.


_TRF

I've found my new obsession.

Smirk affixed to his face
with sarcastic remarks
and slippery words,

mysterious in that stupid
teenage way.

I'd **** to hear what he has to say
about the nonsensical *******
we're forced to endure
each day
that the government calls an
"education".

I'm sure
his opinions on how
we're taught to the standardized tests,
nothing more
and nothing less
could cause enough raw power
to run the whole of New York City
for a month.

Though, too, I'd **** to learn
the terrain of his lips
as our bodies
slammed
against lockers,

oblivious classmates
a wall away
consumed by the
awesome
world of geography,
missing out on something
so
much
more.

He and I,
we'd know what more is,
we'd know how to consume it,
how to keep it at bay,
how to work it
like a hat,
a hat we aren't allowed to wear
at school.

We'd laugh at our own obscurity,
and shared secrets
would run through our veins
like blood,

one cut and it all spills

The trees in the valley far down remains to the viewer's eyes green,
she came back cleaving the hills of dead leaves, blocking the way
her songs vibrant,indeed like it was in a  time long past,hard to forget,

One is in for wonders if the time travel is done mindful,dispassionate,
life is a garden full of strange flowers, bloomed at various times ,
standing still, magically fresh, all along ready to be plucked at  will,

But one easily falls to corruption, blinded are the eyes of the fallen,
this is a  game, playing the role alone matters,nothing else elevates,
don't forget, flowing with the current alone ,takes the drop to the ocean.

She came back, I suppose to complete the circle of illusion,we are in
nevertheless the imaginary places she scented,still cause me an elation.

procuring lexical polymorphism
synthesizing atypical signifier
playing blue album
awaiting tomorrow's celebrations
adding complex plugins
altering element content
watching office mascot
wheeling hue-named albums
undulating forest growth
pricing those yankees
finding layman's chaos
enjoying another victory
reviewing markup concepts
ditching error messages
enjoying relative obscurity

Men with your sort of name are dangerous.
The way each letter makes your tongue work as if it knew you would never be easy.
The way you sound sharp and ready to break me like the bones you wear.
You carry the weight of ghosts I'll never know, the way each vowel kisses the next.
Men like you are dangerous, and your obscurity makes you all the more sinister

The stars have all turned to dust
Trampled by their affiliations
A gaping hole swallows the light

Another crucifixion.

Each day, a constellation falls
Again into her dolor
And no one tries to help her out

Another mindless toiler.

Fate destroyed her life's foundation
She is a ship adrift at sea
Her cornerstone was cast away

Another lost divinity.

Streams of waves
Flowing with sympathetic feelings
At this dark hour
Sleeping, quite not
Yet minds wander to unknown places
Obscure landscapes
To be seen with the heart
And felt by the mind
Knowing not of this
Yet to be
But one day the midnightness
Of the world might be known

Atmospheric rage,
Luminous obscurity.
Discharged sky barrage,