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Artur Oct 1
I see a disturbed landscape,
With undulating mountains and hills.
I see shepherds tending
To their flock
And birds flying in discord.
The hallways are packed
With ancient bodies
Who have forgotten;
Minds filled with loss.
All around,
Flowing and moulding,
Is the ephemeral breath
Of a creature eager to please.
He’s waiting for you;
Take his hand
And walk down these corridors,
Opening all the doors.
It’s time to leave our bony clothes,
And enter the forest.
Artur Sep 25
I want to wander
Out into the cool
Desert by night.
Camels feasting on
Sweet water from lagoons.
Apparitions clothes in sand dunes,
Set on blazing fire
By the white goddess.
Children at play
Under the skies of pure May.
Impossible castles constructed
By an infant’s feeble hand.
Rain water
Brought by the tyrannical sun
Washes castles away to sea,
Towards Apollo’s pristine basin.
I want to wander
Back out there,
Wander back out there
Where there is no veil,
No table-cloth
To hide the mess.
I want to meet the lost boy;
I want to meet my boy.
I want to gaze upon multitudes
And vistas of Dionysian proportion.
And swim with beings out of time.
Where I can throw away all my dimes.
A fire is burning inside the Indian’s tent.
A green plague has come from the sea;
Our god is a mortal,
Who can we beseech for help?
I miss my boy.
I see crows feasting
And ravens weeping.
I must go now.
We are all bewildered dancers
Lost in an incomprehensible ballet—
Woven tightly through a rich tapestry,
Drawn from contrasting colors,
Yet forming a boundless whole,
Waltzing hand in hand—
In love and hate, joy and suffering,
Dark and light, death and life.

The universe—a radiant church window,
Fracturing light into polychromatic unity,
Drifting shards of stained glass,
Piercing through the drama of duality,
Rippling into a sea of endless complexity,
Wedged between the boundaries
of stars and the space that forms them,
A perfection found in imperfection,
Beneath this sea of contrast lies truth:
How could we be anything at all
Without two sides to make us whole?

Before the technicolor skies formation,
We were the loneliest deity,
Infinity alone in a room made of itself,
Where everything was everywhere,
And time unfolded all at once.
So we crafted ourselves a dream—
From the core of our mirrored soul,
A place where I am you and you are me,
So we may live and perish in grace.

So we may play a game with ourselves,
Performing on this boundless stage,
An intricate puzzle piece,
Fitting together in a dance of chaos,
Meticulously designed to deceive ourselves,
So we may treasure life in the face of death.
Navigators of the in-between,
Wandering the maze of nothingness.

If infinity could dream,
Its deepest longing would be
To grasp something real—
To feel the grass beneath its feet,
As it runs across the hills of our earth,
Savoring the fleeting bliss of it all.

The present is so precious,
It hints at a reason we call it so—
A split second glimpse of meaning
In the eternal dance of existence.
Humans tread this lonely universe,
as an ever-dispersing body,
but our I’s never meet.

Behind the velvet curtains of our minds,
within the iris of our eyes,
rests an endless expanse of stars,
refracting off a crystalline hall of mirrors—
a boundless,
eternal reflection,
devoid of every word.

Whispering so softly in us,
behind all thought, all form,
revealing everything,
yet ultimately nothing—
nothing at all.
My body is a paintbrush—
Weaving its soul into the fabric of time,

Living out its own slice of infinity,
Across this canvas made of memory,

Dripping upon the hardwood floor,
To trickle up my slender spine,

Slipping into my porcelain skull,
like a blade to the softest silk,

So gentle, it almost feels natural,
rotting my mind like red wine,
a beautiful corpse,

Decaying into lost photographs never captured,
That drift without purpose,
in the arms of a motherly wind,
To which death is but a dream.
My eyes are pure sunlight,
Streaming through this window,

My body- merely dust,
Waltzing through our classroom,

My soul sleeps on this ruby floor,
Bathing in my midday glow,

Filling every imperfection,
every crack and crevice,

To blanket your eyes,
With my fiberglass fingers,
Until my ghost seems to shine.
Valentine Aug 31
the answering machine let out a beep
with a message soon following
just words stringing together sentences
phonetics, tongues branching the space
between syllables
not a voice, a sound decorated with an accent
created by a language that has taken
all of history to form

and i slept through it all

you can hear the transmission towers
around my house
buzz if you walk underneath them
electricity with somewhere to be
shoving breakfast in its mouth
and rushing out the door
to my neighbors and their 32 inch
flatscreen TV

and i slept through it all

the DVD player will keep replaying
the film if you don't unplug it
one continual loop all night long
scene after scene, cinematic sequences
following quickly in succession
without a hitch, without fault
one actor triggering the other
one domino falling upon another

crashing and burning

spiraled far into the nighttime
i woke up
to unfamiliar noises and unseen voices
people made of black and white splotches
projected from a box aflame with static
and i decided right then
a starring role in the world wasn't for me
falling back into sleep

the movie continued on forever
and i slept through it all
loosely inspired by a childhood memory of mine where i fell asleep in front of the tv and woke up hours later to the movie restarted and playing the exact scene i fell asleep to. pretty eerie to 9 year old me haha.
Valentine Aug 29
Could've sworn I saw a light
Buzzing through the pines
On the hillside
Gazing down at me
Like a singular eye of god
Peeking through reality
Wondering what's become
Of it's creation

Opening myself up
That same light protruding
Nearly went blind
And felt strangely vacant
Like that divine intervention
I prayed for by candlelight
Finally extended its hand
But retreated last second

Saw that shine again
This time in the eyes
Of a deer by the lake
Couldn't stand the scrutiny
Quietly shuffled my fingers
To the trigger of my gun
Aimed best I could
Tarnishing the light for good
Valentine Aug 23
Elvis woke me in the afternoon
He told me
Church was over
That I missed the Sunday service
Yet I still heard the choir
Just down the corridor

I prayed on the steps of Graceland
To a statue of a lion
Cascading in the light
Spilling off stained glass
He told me
Winner takes all
And I gambled my heart
Right out of my chest

Sliding out of my shoes
I fell down the stairs
And landed in a hotel bed
Picket fence lining my frame
The devil told me
My alarm was going off
But I like to think it's all apart of
My American dream
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