"failingly" poems
submerged in a life with no todays
a submarine dive in dank water
a muck and a murk that can’t be shaken
awakening to a déjà vu
unviewed in an era or two or ten or when or
then but not now and never next
electrical fences building themselves
unyielding as we scale
flailingly failingly toward
a date and time and place indeterminable
subliminal signposts spray-painted by
anarchists railing against awareness
obscuring and obfuscating
translating into languages undocumented
concocted from alien metals and foreign shrieks
weaknesses in the armor show like
rusting bruises on the intangible
cruising through an imaginable maze
while memory like a rabid wolf bays
submerged in a life with no todays
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 4:53 PM UTC
"I don't know her.
I've seen her;
A strong spectre of absolute femininity and a lingering presence so strong, that all things thereon.. revolved unto the centrepiece of her clear, imperfect, overwhelming and sinking magnitude.
The fortitude..
She's the most beautiful women I've ever seen.. and no, not that kind of beauty. Well, It could've been..
She has a darkness to her, so captivating; so dense that all article in her cense is stalled in mesmerising silence and anticipation for the next fleeting beat of her beautiful heart.. for the next pacing glaze that would tear me apart, along the horizon of mere "things" in her shade, as she looks around and so passionately drowns the world in awe.
The charm that she'd bestow..
When I first saw her, my heart stopped, literally, only to -and out of grave deafness, explode as if it has been beating 'cross an infinite expanse of scapes compressed in the swiftness of a second.. boom!
'cross the room..
Suddenly, the void that consumed out of me the very sorry existence that I am, failingly so distant to her proximity, exploded like a rose bursting into bloom.. exploding no less, from pale tasteless petals to mindblowing extravagance.
I don't love her, I admit. I don't even know how to begin to fathom such an implosion of utopian lust for the hazel green distance in her eyes, let alone love her. She might be a man-eater, in disguise, for all the possibilities of things likely.. She is, however unattainable, perhaps my greatest unembarked adventure; my Odyssey. Not so, perhaps, my greatest... the one other dream she, still that I of another kiss.. a bliss.. an even greater adventure, nonetheless.. but a rhythm for another rhyme; another prose for another time.
This.. She's ancient unconscionable forbidden bliss for the morbid spirit that I am, enchanted with sweetness and love. Volatile like wildfire, she has the world entwined in the gypsy black waves of unconstrained dreams.
But that wasn't her, who lingered back in my head... The residence was of another.. I saw her once, in my seems.. my truest endeavours for a place that screams for relentless torture behind sweet jagged beams of black light on black.
I don't love her, I reassure, nor am I in love with another. I'm taken by her like a leaf is in a storm. I am home. She's death in a green hazed gaze, for those of you who didn't figure it out by now."
A.r. Bazian
Nov 8th, 2015
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
Could you sleep last night?
I read somewhere
that when you struggle
to sleep at night,
you are actually awake
in someone else's dream
and have them to blame
for your bleary-eyed
stumbling and grumbling
the following morning.
And I awoke today
with a fresh memory
of a dream spent with you-
laughing and smiling
being together like we never have been
in the light of day.
So I want to know:
Did you sleep last night?
Or did you toss and turn
and failingly yearn
for comfort at last?
I want to be sure
that my dreamtime companion
was actually you
and not some
incomplete creation
of my unconscious imagination.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
A judge too beautiful to conjure has stolen what was once in my head:
The careful oddities of an amalgamation that apparently included you
And me and my childhood nanny (who was transformed into a dancing Jane Fonda).
Like a raging sign of my heart’s discontent; a honeymoon I refuse to entertain;
The sleep-sewn cloth of a dying emperor’s last adornment.
Where are you outside my pillow? Why have you come into my dreams?
Explanation be ****** get out! It was you who scorned me on your birthday,
And now I must kindly, failingly ask for your removal from my rotation of isolation.
Even if the times we shared were golden and last night was a dream!
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 9:51 PM UTC
In loves muddy wake
failingly chasing its start
we might as well swim
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 1:00 PM UTC