You are my
Ensorcelled Elysium,
You are my
Eden Dream.

You cascade
Upon my Dreamscape,
Enshrine my slumber in
A flowered gale of aromatic petals
That envelop me, beckon me
To herald the rebirth
Of Days of Yore.

You vein
The Glistening Glade of Memories
With your
Brooks of Aqueous Emerald.

Tis' the
Phantasmagoric Plane
Where still
My wayworn spirit wanders, wearily
In search of the magic
To enfetter
The Hands of Fate
(For they conspire against us).

Swifter than your descent
Into my soul
(Five seconds still and flat)
By
The nexus of your affections,
You evanesced
Like vapor,
Yet
I shall not concede to
The Malevolent Matriarch of Destiny.

For you
O, Breath of Life,
Forsook me not
So I sublime all stains
Tarnishing my flesh
By cries to The Ethereal.

At midday
Awaiting the Twilight
I long for
The birth of The Womb of Aether’s
Progeny,
Starlit winds.

I muse
Swimmingly in Seas of Reminiscence,
Banished from that Blackened Bastion
Of Shadowed Heavens,
For when darkness shrouds
My dreams can be seen
Draping the skies.

I then fathom,
You must not be far off,
Wishing,
Hoping,
Believing
That perhaps
You too
Wonder upon stars
Longing to find that one
That entwines us anew.

You shall alight,
Upon me once more
As
August Sun’s Nimbus
(If only for a moment)
Is thwarted
By
Ebony Miasma
That drenches Cimmerian skies.

In search
Of Ardor’s Light abiding in
The Sylvan Shrine of Your Numinous Eyes
I plead that
The Crag oppress
The Coals of Tribulation,
Until my anguish is
A Diamond Heart.

The pilgrimage
I must bear,
Must be traveled by
The Adamantine alone.

Where have you gone,
Tree of Life?
Why have you withered,
Yggdrasil?

Do I possess
The Eradia of Souls,
By which you shall
Effloresce?

I would halt the cogs of time,
Relinquish my liberty,
To slumber for eternity
In crystal stasis
By your side.

Even in that crystalline quietude,
I would be eminent,
I would be exalted,
I would be ennobled,
In the knowingness that
Your
Stalwart Heart
Radiates
Just beside me.

I exhale Empyrean Winds
When rapt in reverie,
Yearning to be
Captive to your devotion,
Yours alone.

The Bliss of Your Most Holy Kiss
Would signet me
With the
Bounty of Your Name
Burnishing the skin
On my lips.

Though ephemeral,
Your presence divined,
Your presence
Was my anointing.

To be solaced
By the astral resonance emitted
By your touch
Sent the
Pulse of Nirvana
Surging, rippling,
Like a kaleidoscope tide,
Down my spine

You are
The Waters of Vitality
That floweth from
The Creeks of Eden,

You have been
Poured upon my palate
From the
Goblet of Redemption
That I may drinketh
Of
Supernal immortality.

When once again we meet,
Perhaps the tears you summoned
From my spirit
By your
Stirring caress
Shall have absolved me
Of the pangs
In loving a man
(And man alone).

Perhaps then,
The sentiments
I pine to profess,
Will resound.

A melody
Sung in legato,
A  mellifluous melisma,
Flawlessly delineated
And
Intonation in deiform
Or perhaps,
Flowering fioritura
Lacing airwaves,
By the Empress Coloratura.

Perhaps then, piety
Betwixt you and I,
Will waft the air
And I might then,
Permit my quaking body
To succumb to
You alone.

Until that morn,
I shall be vigilant,
Counting the Dawns,
Counting the Twilights,
Until
I can gaze
Into your forested eyes
If even for but a moment.

For even but a moment
Spent with you,
Will bleed a nostalgia
Across my mind's sky,
Painting clouds crimson with passion,
And
That I shall revere,
And
That shall last
And last
And,
Last… And
Last.

O, it will last,
To Elysian Infinity.

∞
            I am a vestige,
               But I shall live once more,
                  In the light of memories
                       That blossom, are perennial,
                           And imbibe the dazed glory of the past
                       Until the past is vanquished
                 By a future that is fragrant
             With the mist of romance
          And eclipses the simulacrum,
       A fictitious sun of the infernal masquerade,
    The antithesis of the truest holy,
Then, rapture of life shall mystify no longer,
For the Numen of Truth,
  Shall cleanse creation without a drop of façade,
      His Providence shall emancipate the hollow,
             The Death of Dreams shall writhe
               In everlasting abeyance,
                 Absolving our wayward spirits,
                  The Winds of Change,
                  The Scourge of Pain,
               And
          The Loveless Wraiths
        That haunted our husks
      Shall be transcended for aeons,
  And tribulation made distant, made nebulous
As the Genesis of Time and Space itself
  For we embark on an exodus,
     Beseeching salvation to redeem us
        When the Requiem of Iniquity
           Is triumphed by everlasting cadence.

Be Valiant,
                 Be Sapient,
                             Be Love
                                       And
                                          By this
                                                You shall conquer the world
                                                           ∞

the night and the frost and the words that they speak
your fingers are frozen, your eyelids are closed
the crests and the troughs of your breath in the air
like the language of winter winds;
harsh tones that never go unheard
beneath your feet or inside your ribcage
or even as the frigid night that entwines itself with you
demanding to be felt

kveld og frost og ordene som de snakker
ditt fingrene er frosne, ditt øyelokkene er lukket
topper og daler av ditt pusten i luften
som språket av vinteren vind;
harde toner som aldri går uhørt
under føttene eller inni ditt brystkasse
eller som den iskalde natten som entwines seg med deg
krevende som må oppleves

Countless strangers sit or stand in wonder
at tall statues and head-height tombs
of solid, austere men who cannot utter
a word to explain the cathedral’s gloom.
The ostentatious architecture’s croon
from a tattered breeze
dithers through deathless abbeys
where memorialized men lay strewn.

The vacillation of their hearts
remains hidden like it did in life,
their public presence disallowed it then
as carved marble and stone now imparts.
That common unresting inner strife;
what was and what could have been.

I know it well (as well as I can),
that unfinished man Frederic Leighton’s tomb,
his beautifully ebullient Flaming June
brought to mind as I gaze on the grave
breathlessly overwhelmed, trying to understand
how anyone can frown on how artists behave.

That thought-drowned sculptor Henry S. Moore
is situated among the others, beguiled
without grave, a resting statue, “Mother & Child”:
in the smoothed out bends of arching stone,
from troughs between figures down to the floor
I read his face, all it held and could hold alone.

Down the crypt on straight-cut-steps I descend,
pressing on further through candle-lit corridors,
commemorations surround in half-light that offends
receding memories on sandless shores.
Horatio Nelson, John Donne, Sir Flemming, Chris Wren,
each pass till I find a man I’d adore:
Philip Sidney, that grounded man, that defender of art,
consumed in the ensuing century’s heart.

Consumed likewise I stand
gasping, beached upon a strand
of a non-physical contagion;
we’ll suffer it all again.


Three minutes more or less I gaped
until my feet forced my face away
and weaved my soul among the wooden pews.
This hallowed place where the past is draped
is an icicle looped through the fray
of my ambition’s thinning view.

Another adoration there!
That visionary mythology sewer
William Blake, whose piteous glower
for mankind begot his lasting dream.
On his placard chiseled rhyming pairs
beg: take things, not as they seem.

My fingers run the lines of text
slowly, strongly, as if forced by the air.
I fall down a thousand winding stairs
taller than St. Paul’s in my heart.
I compose all my strength to regain context
of cathedral, pull away from Blake, part.

Up the stairs I climb
back to the street.
The rustling, busy fleet
of tourists entwines
about me in my haste
to get outside the tomb,
that time-reversed womb,
of men who didn’t waste
time, place, talent, skill,
but impressed their lives on eternity.
The clock is still,
I’m out in the street –
cathedral shadows
twirling high, then low,
over my body and feet.

What is there, inside that place, is intangible and petrified by reality;
it is trailing smoke from the pipes of sages who spoke,
in broken thoughts, sworn things that cannot be repealed.
It is time unwoven and crocheted again into patchworks of undefinable color.
I must have died a hundred times unaware of it all – out of nothing it called.
It was felt and known, ended and rebuilt accidentally out of the contagion of guilt.
It was a small drag off of nothing.

Nestled in his arms, I've discovered a haven,
The refuge for my soul, a home is engraven.
A sanctuary where thoughts find gentle release,
A world of unity, my doubts meet their peace.

When weariness tugs and desolation entwines,
Life's enigmatic encounters, weaving complex designs,
In his gaze serenity blooms and finds its place,
A sanctuary of solace, a loving embrace.

Within his eyes, a realm beyond time,
Where enchantment flows in a fractal rhyme.
Familiar, like an ancient whisper, this truth so pure,
Innocence cascades, beauty's allure.

Through him a passage to celestial expanse,
An orchestra of emotions, our souls entwine and dance.
Each moment evolves, exquisitely hued,
At the threshold of forever, together with you.

Life's intricate threads lead to a destined connection,
Guiding me to him, the most profound intersection.
Gratitude rises, an endless ocean's plea,
For destiny's masterpiece, in him, I see.

somewhere among the oaks and pines
i search, trying to find a sign
with the sight of the climbing vines
i am defined by nature's lines

the water shines my peace of mind
beside the brook, where ivy entwines
i find brightness, no longer blind
in the guiding light of God's designs

Somewhere in the world a young girl sits with her headphones in and music blaring strikingly loud Listen delicately and you’ll hear the pain in the words from a writer who is proud to share their work to an entire crowd
A writer who’s
Words are  so well spoken...
They give you the blues
She feels so broken
from glass which has shattered
And left her with  cuts and bruises
Everyone she loves she loses
So much so that all she can do is
Sit there and do what she always does
she abuses herself
Now a boy comes by with a bright smile
and a brand new toon and he says
The words she’s always needed to hear
He says it without any sort of fear
Because he has no fear
He says it so clear
It brings a tear to his own eye
Hello there, my dear,
what’r ya listen’ to?
Come on, don't be shy
The girl looks up with her shattered eyes
and broken heart and says what she has trained herself to,
“Nothing new”.
He takes off his hood
And he spoke as he stood
Just as any strong person would
Nothing that’s good
Nothing that will help you in the way everything should.
Let me save you
I could help you get through
The pain that you’re going through
Let me help you see the world in a new hue
Do you know who
Who what?
Who you are.
Strive to be the best version of you
Try to be entirely true
true to..?
True to yourself
Make is so they rue the day they ever tried to
Stop you or hurt you
but, that's what they do… what's the point?
Because darling that's how you do it
You show them the day where
despite all the broken glass
and sass
you flew
Don't do this
it won't help you through
Fight like the warrior I know you can be
Be free
despite the cuts on your face
and the glass stuck to your knee
Free like the waves at sea
Free like the wind that creates those waves
And flies for miles and brings new smiles
and entwines itself perfectly into the branches of the old oak tree
the same wind that helps the leaves fall from that tree
helps the leaves be free
and the tree is lifted from its year-long burden
like wind, help liberate everyone and every thing
and be what they're supposed to be
the wind that blows unrelentingly
and apologetically
with continuous glee
Show them that you are the key
Because we’re all the key
to someone's locked door
Because everyone keeps something hidden
Inside their house or their room or a glass box
Everyone has something that they lock away
And houses have windows
People like to break windows
Like they break your spirit
Don't let them
some might throw rocks in at the windows
To create more shattered glass and sad eyes
because windows are the houses eyes
Some might sneak their way in
when you forget to close the window you left open
Because you wanted to feel the wind on your skin
but they aren't welcomed so break-ins don't count
be the person who stops those break ins
remember, you are a house and though your windows may be broken
You’re still standing strong
Your bones are keeping you upright
And your foundation--your faith-- it remains
and take in all of your own glory
because darling you are glorious
honestly miss,
its ludicrous
how gorgeous you are
and how you don't see it
how don't you see it?
It's really a pity
that you're so pretty
especially with those shattered eyes
eyes that have seen so many lies
eyes that just want to hide
please don't hide from me.
you don't see that you're
New York City
you never sleep
there's never a moment where you don't make a peep
some think you're a bit of a creep (you're not)
but in the end you make everyone feel welcomed
But you yourself don't feel welcomed
Why don't you feel welcomed
Who told you that your body was a toy or a tool
They were a fool
No, they weren't cool
darling, show them you rule
You wish your body was clay
That way you could shape yourself into whatever they want to
You could do whatever they say
but darling I pray
That someday
you'll show everyone just how much
you slay
Slay, girl. You’re a fighter.
The girl smiles in a new, healed sort of way
in a way you can't help but to hope will always stay
kind of like how you hope the new puppy doesn't stray
although sometimes it does
on occasion, puppies run away
but, hey, that's okay
because you have to have the courage to run after it
and search it out
sometimes it's hard
but you can't pout
happiness is worth it
Never underestimate the power of positivity  
But also never underestimate the power of negativity
Both can consume you
If you let it
And never, don't you ever, underestimate the things you say
they count they matter and hey
often, they can save the day
Go save someone's day.

A kiss entwines the souls of two
A kiss says I love you
A kiss brings two people together
A kiss says no matter, whatever
A kiss binds friendships forever
A kiss says I’ll be back, whenever
A kiss creates the longing of two
who have traveled together
the journey of life and demands that
the lips that kissed shall, no, MUST
embrace each other once more..

By shaqila
December 2001

LOVE, is a four letter word
Often heard right before
I HATE you...

HATE, is a four letter word same letters as HEAT, the kind that burns out LOVE...

***, is a three letter word, an altered state of wanton desire when flesh entwines it's captors, at first it's like a chemical bond...

Clandestine and strong animal magnetic fields two charged heavy metals attract in the act of lust until just before dawn, it's gone!

Where is she now?

Fools rush in only to learn the rug burned concubine wines and dines with your best friend...

*** is a weapon as she wraps you in pink, If you think with the wrong head then soon you might wind up wishing you were dead...

D. Clare

I remember the first time I laid eyes on him, that
emotive whirlwind within at the sight of him

I swooned inwardly, blinking...

overtaken by the moment, a radiance connected us;
his visage emanated strength beyond his brawny
physique and his handsomeness

our dawning...

love awakened at the sight of him; keeping bedroom eyes
mentally closed, but, longing to feel him against me
became a resting place in my heart

his eyes were so, tender, I wanted to finger trace his lips,
slowly, allowing him to taste the first breath of our moment

one moonlit night...

he approached, another swoon moment, I melted in his
arms as he whispered in the arch of sultry heat uncovering
the fabric of my being

love aroused...

and our essence melded; one breath...ours mingled,
became precious as wet stained kisses rained
upon upturned pout

taste of him left me adorned, in naked shadows of midnight,
love found; bound by blushed sighs, in demureness I lean
into manliness breathing shades of his love

lost...

in syllabic whispers, drenched in poetry of us, where want
dawdles at the door of need as desire entwines igniting our
flame and I melt between the folds of Him and I

evolving...

in the archway of love at first sight

The lights are dimmed.
The movie is about to start.
But all you can think about is the boy sitting next to you.
It's your first date,
Hopefully the first of many.
You're nervous,
But composed.
As the movie starts,
You try to distract yourself from the guy sitting just inches away from you.
You look in his direction.
The movie flashes short glimpses of light on his face.
You see the small glint in his pure blue eyes.
You could melt in those eyes forever.
Then he turns,
Looks you in the eyes,
And gives you a smirk that sends butterflies through your body.
You feel electric.

He continues to tantalize you.
Eventually, you can't hear the movie anymore.
All you can hear is your rapid heartbeat in your ears.
You're so nervous you could pass out.
And then he grabs your hand,
And gives it a comforting squeeze.
He entwines his fingers with yours,
Making you feel special.
All you can focus on is him.
You examine his profile,
While your hands stay connected.
And you want to stay in this moment forever.

After awhile,
He turns to face you.
You look into his eyes for what seems like eternity.
He grins that grin,
Making all your problems disappear.
And he glances longingly at your shinning lips.
You know what he wants.
All you can do is smile back,
Before he leans in.

Your lips connect,
And fireworks explode in your heart.
Suddenly, you forget about all the bad in the world.
All that matters is you two,
In this moment,
Together.
Then, the kiss is broken.
Both of you gasping for air.
He smirks at you another time.
And you loose control.
This time it's you who leans in.
And you are connected once again.
There may have been a lot of other people in that theater,
But in this moment,
It's just you and him,
No one else.
You may never know how the movie ended,
Or who saved the day.
But you will know that you and him
Lived happily ever after.

Maybe fairy tales do come true.

Everything is happening so quickly
so many negatives surpassing the
insignificant glimpse of positives
that never seem to suffice,
there’s always this light at the
end of the tunnel that everyone
speaks of, yet i continue to see darkness;
a journey down this long tunnel brings
no illumination but only a continuance
of nihility, the damp walls
seem to bring the chill humidity
closer and closer with each step,
the droplets echo the narrowing,
flickering lights dissipate at passing,
the gag sparking stench of sewage
and ***** make the voyage to
light even more unbearable than the
previous hesitant inching towards
the so called spoken about bearability of life,
sudden scintillations of light bring sight
of russet, worn doors, consecutively placed,
discoloured of crimson roadkill,
I open the first door and see a woman
tied and bound, gag in throat,
beads of sweat turning the white gag
to watered milk,
the dirt beneath her nails entwines with skin
and blood dredged by her own fingertips,
to front is a tray of what seems like
torture tools
intrigued, I slam the door
                               and avoid a kiss
                                   from Judas

The next door, I open and see a man
sitting facing the corner,
wrapped in a flickering fan,
staring at a wall of carvings of ticks and dashes,
to see arms of cuts and gashes,
with a tray next to him
comprised of razors and knives
he sits picking at skin of bruises and hives,
tempted to grab the tool and corrode self,
with the reflection of whats within, I slam the door

                                               and avoid

Finally the third door
eagerly stares to
me with anticipation boiling veins,
I press my ear to foreshadow,
I hear a cries; a man of hatred
and a woman of pain
I open the door and find a bottle of whiskey
I take a swig and feel as if Judas kissed me,

Within the third door; walls
with peepholes to confirm the calls
on the left I see the sliding knife
over-panting roadmaps of russet to
the neck of the bound woman,  
the screams are deafening,
they present a vibration,
stuttering thoughts, and releasing the fixation,
prompting the admiration
to view the second door,
I see myself, in door 2
tremors and convulsions
seeing blood expel every vein
as the verticals
halt oxygen to the brain

Departure brings me
to the abysmal realm of society  
where the burden of negativity
proves to provide no proof towards what
differs between the endless, narrow
tunnel-visioned cesspool of bone marrow
and psychosis driven visions and the
narrow pathed voyage of life.

Eyes sparkle straight outwards
caught beneath the whispers
her entwines entice
This bearded oddity

The Sirens song beckons;
places a cupped palm holding thin air
where a shapely breast should be

Her smooth skin
wraps the ***** of imagination
trembling tempting fingers
searching in the darkness

Arms outstretched
the smells of summer breeze
wafts its enchantment
and for a moment I belong
more than most
as I can remember

Sometimes we meet others we can easily forget
just another sunny spell as a prelude to rain.
The umbrella I own has holes anyway
lest it would be kinder on me now
if perhaps I had stumbled on a dry patch in waiting

For a moments temptation
to dance with the divine
I’ll skate these embers
and reach out where Icarus fell short

Those fallen arms of grace
will have to wait

In the near dark
tongues unravel and fingertips unbind
transcend, ascend
grip with experience
the bane of youth

Im confused a little more these days;
maybe that's the Sirens song, calling
'swim with me, delve deeper
embrace the ocean current
drift with me, drift with me'

Perhaps im just getting old
cynical to the optimism of belonging.

The Siren would argue:
perhaps you just don’t need
that umbrella after all.

When in moonlight her tide swells
the river dances to the temple bells
mounts the ghat kissing in lust
moans aloud in the wind’s gust
it’s then the moon lifts her veil
entwines her makes love at will.

Thin she looks, like stippled wheat
With anxious eyes and crippled feet
Flaxen hair and halting way
But Jesus baby.. Can she play?

A siren song on notes of gold
Floats out and lets the dark enfold
The lovers as they dance & sway
And kiss & smooch the night away.

She bends way back and holds the note
That muted trumpet starts to float
You’l never hear a better sound
From any jazz man in this town.

Exquisite is the word I’d use
Enticing is her favourite ruse
Alluring now in shades of gray
Her silky sequence soars away.

The song entwines your heart & soul
The moment stops, your pulse on hold
Fantastic senses start to reel
Hot n ****’s how you feel.

You glide your way around the floor
Feel the rhythm, seek for more
That lady makes the music move
She’s making magic, in the groove

Swinging at the local hop
You’ll never want this night to stop
Thin girly with her magic horn
Convinces us we’re all reborn

You wake up in the light of day
Haggard, spent, bereft of hay
But Jesus boy.. You had a ball
You grooved that ladies trumpet call.

So count your blessings, share a smile
You’re winning by a country mile
When you did hear that lassie play
You stretched your life another day.

Thin she looks, like stippled wheat
Anxious eyes and crippled feet
Flaxen hair and halting way,
But Jesus brother….can she play!

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
29th. September 2007

The smoke entwines itself around and through your soft hair
It circles around your small nose
It traces the outline of your gentle facade
It laces through your fingertips
It makes a nest on your t-shirt, and rests there for the night
It cuddles up close to your smooth, pale skin
It warms you up on a chilly November evening
It makes you feel loved.

Oh, how I wish I were smoke.

Maybe then,
I could entwine
And circle
And trace
And lace
And nest
And cuddle
And warm
And love
You too.

{alaska}

Breathe me,
So I may be the air,
To sustain you,
With a new exhilarating sensation,
For you have never met,
A beauty quite as fair.

May the inhales of breath,
Give you my tantalizing aroma,
To waft through your mind,
For all eternity as each exhale,
Entwines your spirit with mine,
Reaching a point of immense depth,
So pure and divine.

Time seems to freeze,
As Hazel eyes mirror my own,
Glancing up my form,
As you witness a treasure,
So grand and rare,
Engendering you to be bereft.
Of all senses,
Except for the feeling to stop and stare.

You speak the words,
Of an effable language,
In such a distinct dialect,
Only the key of your heart,
Opens the lock of my own,
Through those amorous words,
Only the beating of our hearts may decipher,
Even if fate leaves us worlds apart.

Fingers interlacing in an affectionate embrace,
As our hearts waltz in the stillness,
Of the night,
As I notice the sway of your hip,
Full of masculine grace,
Pressing your body against mine,
As you me so deliciously tight.

The moment I encountered you,
I reach the peak of the highest mountain,
Falling as I may,
You bestow me with the gift of insight,
Wrapped in a ribbon of trust,
Ever so bright;
A chance I have never been granted before,
So even if I slip,
Your love always keeps me,
From shattering upon the Valley floor.

Loving you is all you ask of me,
So forever I shall,
Until I no longer breathe,
Our cold bodies soon to be side by side,
Under an old willow tree.

something tells me that i should write on here now..
have you ever had a song define something for you?
a time in your life?
a moment?
a person?
a feeling you never want to forget.
or maybe its not a good thing.
a breakup?
bad events?
past memories you try to let go of, but can't seem to.
i have so many songs.
so many that define my summers,
my friendships,
my situations.
past, present, FUTURE.
there is always
something;
someone
that will ease your nerves,
pump your adrenaline.
make your heart POUND.
emotions;
love...
hate.
the human mind ties many things together.
the human heart entwines us forever.
leaves our mark..
on the world?
on family?
on friends?
on a lover?
on a stranger.
we hold on to so much in our lives.
is it wrong to let go?
to move on?
to forget?
...no.

Pay attention
Hear the voices reconnect?
The traffic dies down simultaneously
The summer entwines and untangles
The skies reach out
The dandelions bloom
Feel the subtle changes
Purity is raining

Mute gray entwines wistfully around my ankles
Night time ghostly kittens playing with the shadows past
My eyes often see the moon reflecting upon the bright visage of your memory
I still feel burned down.
Broken.
A ruin that in future breaths will be seen as the discovery of my lifetime
In reality it is the great loss
Static hums between the quiet space connecting brain to ear
In that white noise I make out your voice singing songs of moving on
Understanding has yet to dawn yet I have heeded your wishes
My heart does warm once more
Though parts remain dark, hidden
Burdened
Blessed with carrying the weight of where you still rest

We are broken, were broke,
barely whole when we started.
We, became one, thought as one,
we were whole for the first time.
We gave and received love,
we gave and received our bodies,
we made a religious act from our one-ness.

I should have been aware that into all happiness,
a snake entwines around a heart.
Envy, caused it.
Into our sanctum it slid, and never left.
All by myself in what was once our haven,
I made plans. Cut the head off the snake and it dies.
But my heart still bleeds, you cannot un break a heart.

I cloistered away feelings, allowed you your freedom,
martyred my sanity in the name of our withered love.
Anchored my memories to our sanctum,
took refuge in the knowledge that I strongly held
the belief that we were still one.
And, we are my darling, still in our inner sanctum together.
I in the many rooms, you in the basement.

Fitting I thought, since 'base' desires took you.
Took you away from our sanctum.
But now your back.
The snake is now headless, actually she's more quartered,
and placed on four parts of the compass.
You see darling we are stronger as one, we are whole,
even if you are in the hole in the basement*.

Our routine entwines filaments of comfort
Finely woven between gaps of unoccupied time
My hands wrinkle with the loss of my
youth
Cracks and flakes of dryness and Future
I am only 23, but my soul says otherwise

My fingernails grow like tree branches
I cut them down and use them as swords
Battling imaginary creatures who stalk my shadow
Each victory harms my ego
Each trophy an intangible farce

Foreknowledge and foresight allowed me to
forego certain forgotten ceremonies;
I encounter them on the road to Manhood
Avoiding each by traveling the dark impasse
I cloak my yearning in a wool coat and a bright red scarf

Bound by absurdity,
I become the High Priest of Ritual
Anointed with the experience of Curiosity’s fluid influence
I wade in the shallow waters to catch my breath
I see you walking on the pier,
Pensive and lonely

**I am too late.

The swine twists the twine
til the poison tastes like wine.

Everyone raised their glasses and cheered
For all that they had had to fear
Sat defeated and hopeless
Behind glass walls.

There lie imprisoned
Our reflections, the demons, the insecurities.
Smile,
Power only dies when it thinks it's invincible.

The swine sighs as it dines,
As the shrine entwines demise.

Tetragrams and anagrams
Pseudonyms and sleight-of-hands
Betwixt the lines lie crooked spines
Textured, gestured, shamed and shrined
Functions, Factions, fabled fiction
Starred and Crossed, they're scored and stitched in
Faeries, furies, funded theories
Quantum physics, quarks and queries
Embers bright, a red clad knight
Winged cats with cubic heights
Flux your lux, set down your labels
Time entwines both swine and angels
Mumbled murmurs, lazy learners
Beacons, bosons, carbon burners
Codecs keyed for hertz and bytes
Ancient tones 'n pheremonones
Reflect,
     Refract,
         Retract...
             Ignite.
Our shadow selves toll ghostly bells
Building walls, erecting shelves
Saviours, slaves, enchanted knaves,
'Tis man, himself, 'creates these Hells...

I'm on the run
One hundred and fifteen
Miles per hour
Day after day
My bad person manifesto
Crescendos into a snorkel
Just below the surface
The stars map out
The way from you to me
The smell is free
But to see
There is a small fee.
A debt circle
Encircles entwines ensnares
Stare blindly at the slop
I'm on the run
And I can't stop