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I
duck into tree light
while this red earth field,
seven years ripe,
germinates small answers
to questions hard planted.

You,
Shroud in silence,
drink the silver night air
while the elusive slips
silently by.

We
stand sky-high
weaving through
grain threshed
wind swept fields.

Suddenly,
awakened by the capacious star's
rising yellow ardor,
verdant implants of dewy life
lift skyward and scatter untrodden roots.
In the farthest reaches of known space, a single starship lay juxtaposed against the stars. The ship was named Destiny. The cold metallic shell hummed with energy as it sat motionless. There were large chunks of wreckage and shrapnel surrounding the Destiny, the last bits of oxygen burning away.
The Destiny was a silver and blue X-Class, a state-of-the-art high speed ship, currently the fastest in the Nine Galaxies. It's pilot was a female Extro-sapien named Jade. Her species was descendant from ****-sapiens, a long forgotten species from the Third galaxy. Extro-sapiens were humanoid, though taller than their descendants. They prided themselves on their indestructible immune system and immunity to all known poisons.That, coupled with the fact that their skin was strong enough to repel most blades with ease, made them extremely hard to ****. Extro-sapiens were nimble hunters, naturally armed with razor sharp fangs and claws. Jade was a bounty hunter, taking contracts to hunt down criminals or to escort VIPs in hostile areas for generous sums of currency. Her target's ship now lay in ruins, it's now-dead pilot floating in the void of space.
Jade walked from the cargo bay of her ship to the cockpit, stripping away her suit and clothes, tossing them in their respective rooms before sitting at her throne, not a stitch of clothing to be seen. It was relieving to be free once more.
She glanced over the various screens before her, some with pictures of her target either on a wanted poster or in the sealed container aboard her ship. She swiped the images to her left, compiling them into a message for her client before sending them. Almost immediately there was a soft chime as her client started a video uplink. Jade quickly grabbed the large headset from the floor and placed it over her pointed ears. She swiped her finger over the right earpiece and it clicked to life.
Jade growled and crossed a hand over her chest just before the screen shifted. An image of her client appeared before her, a reptilian humamoid adorned with gold rings on his short horns. Jade heard him hiss in surprise.
"Bounty hunter, if I had known you'd be so stunning, I'd have met you in person."
Jade's dual vocal cords echoed faintly in the cockpit. The sound of two angelic voices rolled off her forked tongue. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Besides, a night with me would cost you a fortune."
The man laughed, "Worth it, in my opinion."
Jade growled, "You have your proof of death, Silva, I expect you've wired the credits to my account?"
"Of course, of course! Though I could add a little extra if you simply move your hand."
Jade narrowed her eyes. "A show like that would cost you at least a million. Because I'm worth it."
She heard him chuckle, "Indeed you are." There was a pause and then he smiled, "Feel free to move your hand now."
Jade flashed her fangs, "Of course, you don't mind if I check first, right?"
Silva shrugged and Jade used her free hand to pull up her bank account. Sure enough, her initial payment had been received, along with the extra. She grinned and lifted her hand away from her chest. "Feast your eyes, perv."
She grinned as the reptilian choked. "Now that is worth a million!" He grinned from horn to horn, "I'll let you know when the next contract opens."
Jade returned her hand to her chest and growled, "This stays between us. Remember, I know where you live."
Silva's expression didn't change but she could tell that he flinched. "Of course. Until next time, gorgeous."
The video screen faded away and Jade quickly began to transfer her payment to other accounts. She sighed and turned to her right, seeing a map of the nearby systems. She spotted a contract pinned on a planet a few hundred lightyears away, and she gawked at the price tag.
"Ten billion units?" She whispered, "I could retire early with a payday like that."
She furiously began to type in calculators and coordinates. Her computer's voice echoed I'm the cockpit, "ERROR, PLEASE RECALCULATE TRAGECTORY."
Jade bared her teeth in anger as the holographic screen projected a diagnostic of her ship. One single line of text blinked slowly, enveloping her attention.
"FUEL LEVEL LOW, MAXIMUM SAFE TRAVEL: 40 LIGHTYEARS."
She swore under her breath, growling deep in her throat. She adjusted the microphone on her headset and cleared her throat. Her dual vocal cords echoed faintly in the cockpit. "Destiny, lock in coordinates to the nearest space station. Lock down cargo and prepare to engage hyperdrive."
The hologram buzzed to life as the various systems reacted to the sound of her voice. As Jade waited she shut her eyes, gently running her fingers over her bare chest. Jade's was proud of her body, hating to cover such beauty with clothes. Her arms, legs, and back were covered in ornate tribal tattoos. Jade had spent three continuous days enduring the hand poked tattoo, and she felt very proud in displaying the art whenever she could. She let her hands wander about her curves for a moment before stopping. Jade blinked a few times and shook her head. The bells at he tips of her long silver braids jingled. Jade whispered to herself, "There's time for that during lightspeed." Since she worked alone, she took every opportunity she could to relieve her tensions, as it allowed her to focus on her work without distraction. Companionship meant liability in her line of work.
She waited patiently for the computer, leaning back in her fur lined throne. Once all systems had finished their tasks, a soft voice echoed, "Hyperdrive on standby."
Jade took a soft breath. "Engage."
The starship lurched forward, the engines roaring ferociously behind her for a moment before the sound dampening system kicked in. She heard a familiar beeping and glanced up at the hologram, seeing the countdown from ten seconds. She felt the comforting shiver of excitement she always felt before launch, smiling softly to herself.
She braced herself in the chair and said, "Open view port, engage shield."
The large metal screen in front of her pulled away, revealing the grand masses of stars and planets before her. Jade took a deep breath and counted down, "Five. Four. Three. Two. One."
The ship screamed forward, and the starlight formed a beautiful tunnel around the Destiny as it traveled through hyperspace. Jade slumped back into her chair and closed her eyes. "Destiny, Disengage interior gravity field."
Jade felt herself lifting off of her chair, becoming weightless. Her braids jingled softly as they spread around her like a lionfish.
Jade pulled off her headset, letting it float in front of her as she stretched, running her hands along her body again and she shivered again. She twisted in midair, turning to the sealed door behind her. She touched the panel next to the door, feeling the familiar cold screen. The door opened and Jade floated into the corridor. She turned left towards her quarters and entered through another door. The walls were decorated with digital posters of various terrains she had visited during her travels. She drifted toward her bed, covered with a fur blanket and pillow. Jade wandered to the storage locker next to the bed, opening it delicately. Inside were a few personal mementos and data logs, and a small decorative box on the top shelf. She shivered as she thought about its contents. "Later. I think I need to sleep for now." She gripped the stability handle above her bed and lay down on the warm gel bed, covering herself with the fur. Jade breathed a sigh of relief as she relaxed, closing her eyes. It was at that moment that she felt how tired she really was, her muscles ached and groaned as she pressed a button on the side of the bed, changing the density of the gel to allow her to sink. The warm gel creeped over her legs and belly, then her chest and shoulders.
Jade groaned as the gel encapsulated her, covering every possible inch of her. Her mind wandered as her hand hovered over the other controls. "Massage or no?"
She bit her lip and pressed the button once, feeling the gel start to pulsate around her body.
Jade shivered and said to no one, "Who needs a man when you have tech like this?"
She spent the next few hours in the massage bed, finding her way into the decorative box partway through. Once Jade had thoroughly massaged her desires away, she climbed out of the gel, thankful for the weightlessness. She was no longer confident in the use of her legs. She pressed the first button twice and the gel began its cleaning process.
Jade retrieved her toys and placed them back in the box, pressing a button similar to the one on the bed, closing it and placing it back into the storage locker to clean.
Jade stretched again, invigorated. She floated back to the cockpit, checking the projected time of arrival. "Ten more hours. Plenty of time to get my gear ready."
Jade floated back into the corridor, this time twisting to the right towards her workbenches. The room was dark, save for a few blue work lights. As Jade hovered in the doorway, the overhead lights snapped on, casting a soft white glow around the room. She floated towards the first bench, where her gun hovered in a stasis field. It was almost four feet long, with three rotating barrels. Most bounty hunters favored energy weapons and plasma rifles, but not Jade. She preferred metal bullets that could shred flesh and punch through doors with ease. Her weapons would not fail her in case of electro-magnetic pulses either.
Jade floated to the next table, where her boots and mask hovered in another stasis field. Her boots were strong, heat and frost proof, and had a strong magnetic field to allow her to walk in zero gravity or even upside down. She had recently installed a pair of thrusters to them, which would allow her to fly for a short period of time, enough to get her out of harm's way or to a better vantage point.
Jade's mask was armor plated, angled to deflect any incoming rounds with ease. Two tubes connected the mask to an air reservoir that sat at the base of Jade's neck, underneath her braids. The eyepieces doubled as eye protection and target analysis. One of the lenses was cracked beyond repair and Jade swore. She hovered over the table and delicately disassembled the mask, letting the broken lens float freely away while she installed its replacement. She reassembled the mask and slid it onto her face. There was nothing at first, then the internal computers activated and she saw clearly through the mask. She glanced over the diagnostic data and nodded once she was satisfied. She took off the mask and set it back in its stasis field.
She turned to the final bench. Where her bodysuit lay in a crumpled heap of woven uranium and steel fiber. The bodysuit fit her like a second skin, adhering to every curve she possessed. The uranium fibers acted as an energy source, powering all of her necessities. The black suit shimmered as she touched it, reacting to her skin, begging to be worn. She smiled softly and patted the heavy fabric. "Soon, darling."
Jade glided to the door, leaving her gear behind as she returned to her living quarters. She hovered in front of the full length mirror, looking over her body. She smirked and purred, "Gorgeous as always."
Jade went to the storage locker and retrieved a large metal crate from the base. She took it to the mirror and opened the crate, revealing thirty blue feathers, each roughly a foot long. She had collected one for each of her braids, and she began to tightly weave the feathers into the tips of the braids. In the middle of each of her braids was a strong electro-magnetic core that, once activated, spread her braids like a lionfish. They would act as a distraction, allowing her the element of surprise. The magnetic field they created also acted as a strong shield.
Once the last feather had been woven into her hair, she then wrapped each braid in strips of the same uranium-steel fibers as her suit.
As the last of the fibers had been tucked into place, Jade grinned. The powerful fibers would amplify the effects of the electro-magnetic cores. Jade smiled at their resemblance to whips. She wanted to test them, see if they would crack like an actual whip.
Jade returned to her workshop, donning the bodysuit and her control gloves. She floated into the main corridor, which was wide enough that she wouldnt hit the walls once her braids were fully extended.
She took a deep breath and touched the her thumb and forefinger together twice, activating the electro-magnetic cores.
The sound was deafening, forcing Jade to scream involuntarily and clutch her ears in pain. She was shaking, her vision blurring. Her ears were ringing as she was finally able to hear again.
Jade reached up and felt her fully extended braids, marveling at their rigidity.
Once her hearing had completely recovered, she tapped her fingers together, deactivating the cores. Her braids floated limply in the air and Jade curiously went to the cockpit, sitting in her throne.
"Destiny, analyze decibel range of sound from main corridor."
After a moment, the ship's voice echoed, "Decibel range of one hundred ninety."
Jade shuddered, she was surprised she hadn't been deafened by the sound. She shook her head softly and looked at the projected time of arrival. "Seven hours."
She yawned, "Time to sleep then. Destiny, wake me up thirty minutes before we reach the station."
"Affirmative."
Jade lifted herself over the chair and ventured into her room. The gel bed had finished cleansing and she pushed herself onto it, feeling the familiar warmth. She focused on slowing her breathing and she closed her eyes, passing quickly into deep sleep.

In her dream, Jade stood on a slightly raised metal platform in the middle of a desert. The platform was massive, with sand covering the edges. Jade looked around, seeing nothing around her. She looked up into the sky and saw a single massive sun orbited by twelve planets and a ring of stars. Jade looked around her again and saw a massive wall of water closing in on her from all sides. She shut her eyes tight as she heard the water rushing around her.
Jade felt herself being carried away by the current. When she opened her eyes, she was back in her bed.
Jade blinked and sat up, unsure of herself.
She thought she could still hear the water rushing past her ears.
Jade shook her head and the bells brought her back to her senses. She could hear Destiny's alarm ringing within the bed and she pushed the third button, silencing the alarm. "Destiny, restore gravity.
Jade felt heavy for a moment, then the gravity stabilized and she rolled her shoulders. The countdown was now at thirty minutes.
Jade retrieved the headset from the floor and slid them over her ears. The screen in front of her had brought up a diagnostic of the space station. A light flashed on the instrument panel and Jade pushed it gingerly. An alien voice came over her headset, "X-Class starship, please respond."
Jade positioned the microphone in front of her mouth, "This is X-Class, go ahead."
There was a pause, then, "This is the Space Station Ender, please state your business and expected stay."
Jade hesitated, then said calmly, "Refuel and resupply. Expected stay no longer than forty-eight hours."
A minute passed, then another. Finally a response came, "X-Class you are cleared to engage docking procedures upon arrival."
Jade smirked, "Affirmative. ETA twenty-five minutes."
There was an audible click as the call ended. Jade sighed and pondered the contents of her cargo hold. She stood and turned to the back of her ship, going to the very end of the corridor to a locked panel.
Jade typed in an eight digit combination and the door swiftly slid open. The walls were lined with large storage compartments, though Jade wasn't worried about those. She counted her paces and stopped four paces from the door and she sidestepped right twice, touching her gloved fingers to the floor. The sound of gears and hydraulic pistons echoed throughout the room as a six foot by ten foot container lifted from the floor. Jade ran her fingers along the side of the container, opening the multitude of doors. As each door swung open, stacks of weapons and explosive devices became visible. This was the cargo that her target had been carrying. Since it no longer had an owner, it was worth a lot of money. Jade couldn't resist the possible fortune, bu
kivel May 2019
Here I am again
cycling through with this ******
life
ready to feel despair
with all the regret in the world.

Lightspeed.
A repeating tragedy.
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2022
What on Earth
took you? Do we dare land?

A lark of descension. An aborted beginning.
Moon trills.

Captain is dead
at the controls.
Mother gives birth in the airlock.

Trouble in the passageways.
A struggle to name it.
A drink before eclipse.
All that's wrong with the world
sounds like harmonium in the (wishing) well.

First flight over Hölderlin's Archipelago,
creating new and stranger versions
in the sandclouds.
So this is
Tharsis Rise?
Life without a trace.

Non-terrestrial Martian field.
Halcyon flowering seas. A rock with no trees,
no urban hopes.

Yet, the whole universe inside
wants to be touched.
I love you in zero gravity,
pushing tender buttons.
*** as solution.
Moon trills.

A kiss of atmosphere.
This alien womb.
Those android embargoes.
Our children are born echoes of astronauts.
Lunar schedules
their first words.

There's a lightspeed sensibility
to this type of marriage and parenting:
no leaving the hub,
no exit procedure.

The Sol they sing
is a harm hymn,
moon trills,
subject to the ladder and the weight of breath
this outside Earth.

But I love you in the veil of a twilight moon.

We're monuments
burned into moments.
Moments without a beyond.
Marcus White Mar 2014
It been 20 year in the making
there well still anit breaking
they have face many foe
never lost a bro
it may start slow but
by the end you well be beging for mo

We have had
01:Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (Season 1)  02:Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (Season 2)  
03:Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (Season 3)  03.5: Mighty Morphin Alien Rangers  
     04:Power Rangers Zeo  05:Power Rangers Turbo  06:Power Rangers in Space  
07:Power Rangers Lost Galaxy  08:Power Rangers Lightspeed Rescue
09:Power Rangers Time Force  10:Power Rangers Wild Force  11:Power Rangers Ninja Storm  
        12:Power Rangers Dino Thunder  13:Power Rangers S.P.D.  14:Power Rangers Mystic Force  
EX:Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (Re-version)  18:Power Rangers Samurai  
       19:Power Rangers Super Samurai  20:Power Rangers Megaforce  

All of the ranger have protected the earth
now its up tp #21 Power Rangers Super Megaforce
to save the day
being the power of all 20
that come before them
to fight the great evil earth has
seen to this day
it all up to them to bring
peace some way

If they can win the we well bring in
#22 to hype you up
here come
Power Rangers Dino Charge
in to to save the day

This is the mega ranger flow
I have NO right to power ranger I just gave the Mega Flow
shiv Jun 2018
you will drown. you will rot.
this raw feeling of reality will swallow you whole,
and the only wish you will have
will be as to how fast it takes you.
RyanMJenkins Apr 2013
Sentimental ******
Academically flunking
Connecting dots and debunking
Seeing past what you see luck in
Black hole my foot's sole is stuck in
Seemingly strategically ducking
Prodding problems and plucking moments,
But losing grip on how to hold it

Encouraging misfit
Brainstorming ******
Monotonous yet intricate
Everyone's just so full of it
Love,
Give it and soak in the showers of despair
The equilibrium storms a new batch of flowers through prayer
The one you always wanted wasn't there
Yet there's always someone with a moment of care to spare

Petty instance through another's glasses could be colossal
A piece of scratch paper to one could be a fossil.
Dare to go against what some deem as impossible
Every individual is a fractal within the kaleidoscope
But even fragments can learn to see the beauty of the whole.

When the music stops sometimes it hurts even more
Melancholy water tides rise and begin to roar
Mental dialogue so active it should be a sport
Fill the report, try not to contort
Sometimes the finish line is reached faster with cohorts
It helps to know when you've gone too far, abort.

A soul alone in a sea full of black
Hard to see past what I lack with this past, there's no going back
Blind to the track, so where am I going?
Hard to invest trust when there's so much not knowing.
Still rowing, but there's a hole in my boat
I question the universe as to why I still stay afloat.

A world of perfection that's full of skewed mirrors
Objects in mind may seem more deviating than they appear
Risks risk regret when not taken due to fear
Let go of misconceptions and substitute a perception that we're meant to be here.

It's nice to believe in something
Whether Allah or the theory of string
Yet holding on too tight can eventually sting
I've been open to the infinite, but what will it bring?

As a patient, if the medicine was patience I may've died already.
The ride's going at lightspeed and is anything but steady.*  
But now I'm unbuckling the seatbelt, to feel every planetary pothole
I will succeed only when I realize my place in the ship,
I am in control.

Parting the waves
See past the grave
There's still love for the depraved
Hell is within us all,
And we all can be saved.

The way will be shown
Remember, There once was a time that you didn't know.
Semi-controversial with the introspective flow,
But this is the method I choose to potentially map out my growth.
jessiah Sep 2014
Scream.
Scream firelight electric skies.
Scream torrential sideways winds.
Scream nonsense and fortified lies.
Scream names in vain and horrible sin.
Scream ****** ****** and bravos.
Scream lightspeed ways that rip the cosmos.
Scream a universal chunk from your mortal throat.
Scream jellybeans, sweet and sour notes.

Scream and I will hold you
            like you were dying
Scream and I will kiss you
            like it were initiation into the unknown
Scream and I will need you
            like you were never coming back

Scream

Or don’t scream at all

I’ll still do these things
07/?/2000
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
I reach out
                               to you -to your essence
grappling to any shred               of your memory.
                             Your smile.
         The light in              your eyes.
The tinkling of bells in
                                                                                    your laugh.
The soft rose that                     warmed all of
the        freckles on your cheeks
           when you                         blushed.
Every feature.
                                                  Faded.
Like an old picture.

Reaching and clawing through
every scene,                       every second.
                                        Every memory of you.
Time stands still              and the world is silent.
The stars hang, frozen        in their dark sky.
                                                       The universe is, and suddenly

it isn't.
My mind
                                      blinks.
My heart beats on           like a drum and
the wind                           rushes from my lungs at
                             lightspeed as
a sickening
possibility comes to mind.

                                                                                      You are nothing more than s t a r d u s t .
This poem was written in 2016.
Timothy Mooney Apr 2011
I was seven.
The sidewalk lured.
The Huffy beckoned.
The hill...
The hill...
Skinny locomotive legs
Pumping madness blindness happy
Freedom flight pumping pumping
The hill...
The hill...
Baseball cards in spokes were roaring
Soaring wheels and squinting windy
Boymachine thrumming heavy
The hill...
The hill...
Swerving Fords and Chevys curving
Hopping curbs and doggie-dodging
Lightspeed hoping
Seven and no sign of stopping
Hit the rock...

Funny how it all got slow, now
Boy/machine were separated
One went one way one the other
Gravity
The enemy
copyright 2011 T.P.Mooney
Julian Feb 2019
12/30/2018

The eloquence of listless years is lost on heady overweening heels that submerge reality in a cavernous of oblique light shrouding the dark mysteries to come. Axiomatic but refractory we swim and tread danger and peril because the unsaid screams for awakening as the roosters outfox the owls and completely change history based on evil skullduggery that awaits the gainsay of titans compromised in security but elevated over the doldrums of quotidian thought. It is my solemn forbearance and consistent steadfast prayer for alacrity and industry to conquer the dudgeons of incurred opprobrium to clinch a beatific convivial festivity for a time-informed claque of leaders that delight in simplicity but dissemble their true disguise in open shark-infested waters. Salvage the impositions of the many and cull the best to anoint their favor on uncertainties improbable but likely as the discerning will master reality rather than be the dross of yesteryear. We swarm with importunate guilds of serfdom to surrender their edifice to the chiselers that operate and extravagate beyond bounds established by parochial priggishness that is a flagging patriotic insistence on drenched graft dank with the mildew of balkanization but not entirely as reproachable as some relics of the ancient law detest with misguided guile and paranoiac sophistry that is a precarious canker of otiose tastes drawling on with misinformed skepticism. The hounding gray in the pallor of alpenglow light ennobles the concatenations of wistful dread but at the same time esoteric flavor that enriches the emblazoned gallantry of the few to become the mainstay of all relevant considerations. Wish upon a coruscating menagerie of miscegenated aboriginal languages that have always abided in the shadows but exist in brevity among the elite coteries that coddle the world in its infancy away from the artifice of exegesis and the importunate placations of swarthy umbrageous shadows that exist apart from the factitious apartheid of race and gender. We must stand united as brethren enduring the tribulations of human vicissitude to abhor the diseased rhetoric of pandered puritanism amalgamated with aleatory financial alarmism calculated to swindle the dilapidation of penury that burns as a smoldering conflagration of concerted ignorance leading to ochlocratic determinism rather than a whispered percolated pedigree that drowns sorrows but simultaneously strands the pariahs of time in insular self-reflection unbecoming of an age that demands an importunate, ubiquitous and outspoken corporate altruism not superintended by a bloviated and tumescent dysnomy of congregated botched bureaucracies that encroach with a daunting donkey commandeered by headless horsemen who are only known by pennames and cognomens that flinch at the demise of their undeserved anonymity. We use valor as an instrument to prevent a scuttled vessel of a seaworthy humanity slinking along a very balmy coast as we await future instructions at the apropos time for a simpatico relegation of commercial collectivism. We expect instead a demassified world to enliven the dialectic of epistemology itself and renew covenants long ago moribund in their ragged and wretched desuetude that they may be vanquished as vestigial habiliments to the tatters of sloppy abnegation leading to a swollen piety that dares not to pretend but simultaneously believes so much in its pilloried hubris that it provides erasure for the secular enlightenment of a messianic time. Squalor and riddled eccentricity drive a brackish but saccharine attempt to homogenize the pastures that we graze upon but look no further than a bequeathed divine providence of smirks rather than the jibes of sneering ostentation. Whisper you fame rather than declaim against the arraignments of a scuttled pettifoggery of miscegenated justice that embroils foreign wineskins for domestic turmoil rather than the demotic enlightenment of the abrogation of inequitable laws that preserve the totemic dissolution of society rather than the prized ameliorative enlightenment of science informed by faith and faith beckoning the clerisy to seek supernal wisdom and furtive swank to reconnoiter the righteous and jettison renegades imploring for a piebald blinkered apostasy on a rudimentary subconscious level but never realizing their effrontery is gravid in a heedless ignorance interpolated by menacing secular hobgoblins that ransack barren treasure and cherish it as a trinket for a chrysocracy that is specious rather than veridical. Barnstorm for justice but appoint the abeyance of foolhardy prescience so that the enigmas of time can beckon their own deliverance through a culmination of waggish flickers rather than the kowtowed toadies of a quidnunc reality divorced from proper temperance outmoded but thriving among those that disavow newfangled foudroyant spectacles. Always and with alacrity indulge the gladiatorial sportsmanship of a zeitgeist beyond contention as the paragon for livid dreams and lurid imaginations to drive the mutiny against plebeian ears and purblind eyes. Live for the eternal present with providence and forswear the vestigial fossils of flippant eras domineered by dragooning fictitious sentiments buttressed by castles built against the encroachment of the imaginary foes of vassal states that submerged the world in a fideism that rejects too many axioms of modernity to vie for preponderance. The government is not irreproachable, but it is a primeval reflection of the propensities of an aggregated society flippant against choice wisdom of the ageless Constitution that is peremptory proof of the divine providence of sempiternal liberty. People that chide against liberty because they fear precarious cankers that endanger from a distance because of their swollen specters need to uphold a commitment to a wistful remembrance of tragedy but a sturdy ruddy optimism to perdure and prosper on this greenest of worlds for both the greenhorn and the expert alike. Never kowtow before the altar of avarice and always pilfer resourceful contemplation in the respite of quiet times that engage our best faculties to awaken rather than slumber. Recruit the collective imagination to superintend chaos and the leviathan becomes tamed because it requires human synergy in both prosperous times and desperate measures to foment the earth with the brontides of due warning simultaneously murky and misleading but always reflective of an irenic pasture of withering sheep and abundant shepherds. Regal promises have always loitered in the penumbras of the elite but now is the time for absolution rather than scattershot contumely. We believe in the federal way and the state farm system and we don’t believe in foreign monoliths becoming the pasquinade of slippery hebetude that ensnares the immobilized futilitarianism of ignorant creeds and divisive claptrap. Barnstorm together for God and liberty as those two principles-however squandered they might be by listless speculation that doesn’t hinge upon the concerted subaudition of the deeply fathomed sources glistening with profundity- will clinch a victory for the beatific future of a guided humanity rather than the guileless intemperance of choleric fools who wage conflagration against only their own plodding ignorance rather than reaching with outstretched hands and tenacious grasps to invent the future according to the helical perfection of the past. May God rule forever on earth! A prosperous earth! An Earth filled with pleasure and an Earth that approximates heaven more closely every day. Amen  



12/31/2018

Riddled by bewildering supernal designs of an ineffable splendor that drapes reality in iridescent cloaks of rigorous and strenuous limber we trounce through the effigies of a profaned pasquinade to gallop through the doldrums of time for the allocated investment in the refined human condition to exacerbate the declension of foes but link the Abrahamic faiths with taciturn reflections and wizened countenances beckoning a newfangled harmonious destiny. Livid are the naysayers who proffer gainsay with insouciance and flippant sorcery to denigrate sacrosanct axioms with persnickety maxims that are only auriferous when viewed through a refracted entropy of disdainful speculative mutiny against propriety in values and stances. I sidle through a refractory zeitgeist despised for my aureate temerities against the chided condemnation of those who flout so-called gobbledygook because they lack stringent acuity and pale to the polish of ennobled grace that anoints favor and felicity on the laurels of an age very intransigent against latitudinarian capriciousness that will one day ransack the world of its flickered graft and its paltry obsessions with quondam gaucheries. A house divided against itself will flounder because of titanic pressures of oblique balkanization that is opaque only to the hounded ignorance of wishful but labile people who wage acerbic gambles against the delegated authors of an aborning covenant for irenic reconciliation in a blinkered piebald world. I like to saunter in private with my insistent lucubrations because I know the majestic gestures of jest are more bountiful in their fecund harvest than any circumlocution of blunt poetasters who calumniate the verve of self-made upstart grandeur that I brandish at every opportune occasion to pilfer my due inheritance from the coffers of a self-fulfilling fatalism divorced from solipsistic monisms and the denigrations of the futilitarian quest to deprive sustenance in the exercise of deft skepticism disempowering the perspicacity of miserly mendicants who treasure their science but pale in their trepidatious momentary twinges of faith that are insincere and unctuous abominations against a steadfast God that wallops our misery with the lurched progress of human amelioration wrought by the succor of alien wizardry beyond even the most quixotic imaginations of people who in their prolixity miss the pithy glib sacraments of a terse and burlesque pragmatism. I simper because I know about carbon emissions statistics with hearty gusto and a convivial banquet of amalgamated personalities and wraiths that emanate from the ether of the 12th dimension of reality: transdimensional interspecies sentience. I wrangle on the outskirts of a bustled city embroiled in a relegated civil war entangling plebeians and plutocrats but not engorging any coffers in a zugzwang destined for pejorative scuffles rather than synergistic revivals of the human fraternity, a consensus about intellectual meliorism that will fossick with due efficiency cognitive resources frittered away in the respite of laziness and the abeyance of prospective diligence to conquer rather than waylay with furtive gambits of appeasement. Everyone need to leapfrog beyond the quotidian plane by indulging the oneiromancies of self-efficacy aggrandized by presidential favors and collective efforts to unite the 16th version of reality with the penultimate version of reality. For the ultimate version of reality is corporeal death upon which we are transplanted unto an ethereal dimension beyond contemplation without the horological diminishment of wizened age.  We trudge in the miserly conditions imposed by pharaohs of pettifoggery that swindles with blustery graft and strident intimidation of the audacity of hopes and dreams to foment the requisite fin de seicle zeitgeist that deserves more of a heyday with the revivalism of nostalgic entertainment against the opprobrium of inferior tastes facile in formulaic conformity but deficient in its nutritive enrichment of beatific festivities that traverse the earth at lightspeed because of the vehement energy of foudroyant amazement is beyond contagious when conveyed through the dexterous vehicles of more centralized rather than skeletonized organization. The bonhomie of a copacetic future demands the interpolation of scrupulous adherence to authoritative dictums but the laissez-faire demagoguery of titans trouncing the ragamuffins of cacestogenous upbringing in a miserly husbandry that stunts the stilted imaginations of formalism rather than bequeathing a seminal insemination of a future hybridized race mechanized but humanized simultaneously to accomplish what would once seem impossible that now looms considerable with the democratization of the furtive at a faucet’s trickling pace to empower the future to heed the past and the pastors to revere the eschatology of final conditions rather than a favoritism for aboriginal barbarisms created by the snare of hobgoblin phantasms that exist only to make us tremulous rather than swanky. May God bless this great green earth with many decades of prosperity to come and heap plaudits on the intellectuals fighting the fight against simpleton groupthink. Have a very festive New Year!
Flexing a 155-160 Verbal Expressive IQ
Brycical Mar 2014
Makin' creatin' a lightspeed igniting conversation, one star nation takes patience to see the people slowly wakin' n' bakin' up like an S.O.S is morse code from herb tokes in the late midnight.

Indigo third eye aliens sailin' in wailin' blues like the sinnerman nina simone and tracy chapman entrapped and entwined like a serpentine mind warp in time like kaleidoscope bhavacakra.

We be inside a cocoon of warmth, while sunsets high atop begets a period of gratitude n' news of ancient wizards of the earth burning sacred stories in sky paintings of clouds in the Canadian north spring equinox.

Fox spirits and raccoon  split spliffs from peace pipes at night. Families are reuniting. Trojan horse tricks lift spirits hearin' our kicks and screams howlin' and wowlin' at the moonlight while kali dragons claw away time 'till its an infinite mush of mashed sweet potato pie,
but in order to make one from scratch we must first create the universe.
Gypsy Ashlyn Aug 2016
He is a writer
Scrambling for paper
The moment he is inspired
Asking for second opinions
On whether his words fit
His ideas travel lightspeed
So he strays a bit
Crumbled ideas by the bed
He worries they're no good
But, that's just what the voices said
He's his own worst critic
He had a breakthrough
But he just cant fit it
Into the small setting that he placed
Worry sickens his face
All this hard work
But nothing to show
He didn't see this coming
Just a few weeks ago
He scrapped it all
It was tainted
He tries too hard to face it
See, there is nothing wrong
Not from the start
My love,
Your words are such art
My rambling writer
My paranoid poet
You made the patches of your story
Point your pen
And sew it
Dedicated to Cody Thrift
The problem with the tribe these days,
they pay too much attention to the burning man,
driving out to remote desert islands,
to watch the note crumple under the pressure,
flying over mountains to witness their transformation into a volcano.
I’m your herbal blend and your medicine man,
you see, I emerge from unharbored islands of survival,
I come with a vision, blinded to the tribe,
and my heart and legs ache to present it,
your smudged, trembling hands will reach out as I see it,
and your eyes broaden as I hand my dripping liver to you,
no, not my heart, hearts are just.. so cliché.
You can have my liver, I wont be processing anything unclean,
but in a moment, the tribe will shove moons,
oils, chemicals, yellow, green, blue with acid-stained flourescents,
so you may need the second filter.
But, no matter what they put you through,
you’ll always be that northern light,
the aurora borealis is just the reaction to too much energy in the atmosphere,
meanwhile, you take the worst, and you turn it into something beautiful,
colors from amethyst to ruby cruising lightspeed through my aura,
and there you stand, covered in the filth of the tribe,
and the sheen of authenticity shines through the cracks,
soon enough though, there wont be any more tribes,
and when the earth splits, there will be molten lead,
sprinkling space with shining, obsidian stars,
You and I will stand on the moon to witness the explosion,
and laugh as we walk away into the next creation.
Blissful Nobody Jul 2022
I will begin at my life's end,
Since, I would like to arrive faster.
Correction universe! Depart sooner.
You heard me now, at the times end,
I feel, I have experienced everything,
From then, now and after.
For a decade or more, I felt like going,
Away from life's simplicity ,
Till I got on the fast lane,
Drove myself to madness,
To the worlds end, much sooner.
Complicated and confused,
Disillusioned and petrified,
I have managed to complicate ,
The movement of time to faster.
My cosmic reality from freedom,
Got switched on to *******,
At lightspeed, in a place much darker!
Freedom from this physical self,
An escape from life is what I seek.
I know this is not the right way ,
But to end this pain, it's faster !

~blissfulnobody
(not so blissed out:)
Off my usual beat
JB Fuller May 2010
an instant
    frozen in the annals of time
nature is
    paused as it watches in silence
in awe
    of the power nearly unleashed
fastest
    as the lightspeed barrier breaks
an action
    that makes the sun look reduced
suddenly
    as the entirety of all is transformed
an atom
    appears and multiplies matter
blindingly
    as a voice speaks and all exists
.
Your eye's light shines like our moon, her moon...
skipping stones upon the sea--

although we're just dancing between notions in this wild city rain.

How can I hold the soul of a girl while
she's walking little stars on a string?
The night sea crashes as the moon,
at lightspeed; is painting every wave.

Open your celestial door and let me touch you.

Sweeter words have flown,
but these are the only words I've ever known.
I'm so tired of chasing deep shadows
that disappear in the warm morning sun.

Some just wake up and walk out my door,--

It makes my face grow longer as
the world turns me to face my
forty seventh winter wind.








.
Austin Sessoms Jun 2021
The sun wants to eat us all
The sun wants to eat us all
It would have happened quite some time ago
If the Earth wasn't quite so small
The sun wants to eat us all

It paralyzed my love, as
She stepped in view of the sun
I ran to save her, but I fell myself
Is my spirit strong enough
Is my spirit strong enough

I panicked at the thought that
You might lose your light
I was aware that my body was there but
Yours wasn't by my side
Yours wasn't by my side

So I pushed my arms
And legs to the limit
I was traveling at light speed
But couldn't do anything to
Bridge the galactical gap between us
I couldn't keep up with you
It’s like you travel at lightspeed too

We flickered off and on with the
Enormity and heat of the sun
Then her outline flared as the fire and air
Overcame everything she was and
We were muddled up in the sun

It was a fiery faceless sea
But there’s a part of you I recognized as me
That made incineration feel like ecstasy
You did away with my egoic truth
I was content to think I’d be consumed
                  
Until out of the miasma as two beams of light
We sped through outer space to what we left behind (as us)
Instead of the intensity of being one
We chose the selves we couldn't stand to lose
Not to the fear of our impending doom
She slips her small hand into mine and
together we walk through the lengthening
shadows,
where we and time become one.

The echo of footsteps, now gone,
only the footprints go on.

The carpet wherein lies eternity is the weaving
together of hearts.

This I see,
and as I drown in the mass
of humanity
her hand reaches out to me.

In the night where the stars burst
so brilliantly, where
the stabbing daggers at lightspeed
are blinding me,
the warmth of her body reaches
out to me and
she shows me the violence
of her galaxy.
I know it's about the energy that flows from you to me and from me to you.

The Universe
a never-ending mutiny of stars and quasars, black holes and red giants,
it's good to be a part of something so vast that to ask questions about it would take forever to answer.

and here I am an evolving man on a spinning rock,
someone is bound to fact-check this because they'll
think that I am taking the proverbial
when in actual fact
I'm taking a postprandial stroll.
DogKeep Oct 2022
Hell rises on the back of a Hell-razor,
bursting through the skin of flowers.
I have long-since given up the dry shave of the cold edge INSTEAD opting for an electric experience...
buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
... like a band reaching lightspeed. Their infinite galloping spread across a night sky the size of an operating table for all the nice guys and doctors to see.
SEND 'EM ALL TO SEA, along with the electric razor and me.
Hell sinks into the bowl of a flower so stop going on about it...
Looking for Snoopy

Rollin’ on that rhythmic rollercoaster
My knuckles dead white, I can’t
Lose it on this lightspeed slant
Of fire, feeling those flashes
As the thunder thrill goes faster

Are you diggin’ what I’m sayin?
I ain’t gonna scream, got some
Dignity under this blue dome
Are you shakin, it’s bootin’
You ain’t got time for tremblin’

I’m targetin’ the sparklin’
Sky full of that shinny gold
So I can start believin’
I’ll reach someone I hold
Dear in my throbbing heart

Are you diggin’ what I’m sayin?
I ain’t gonna tremble until I touch
The silvery stars to rush
My present to your present
In the myriad of the moment
A doggie you’re still drawin’

Turns out I found this fellow
Surviving on this swayin’
Spinning track trippin’
I put him in papers that glow
To your doorstep delivered
Hope you’ll enjoy, recovered

That merry memory
Packed with awesomeness
Allow some silliness
From California and me
Happy birthday Mommy
With love and pink cherry

February 15, 2015
A poem to my mom. Her first taste of Americanness was thru Schultz' Snoopy. I was at Knott's Berry Farm, CA, when I wrote that to her. The poem has this careless youthful tone that I only found there
early this year
gentle as calm ocean waters
   lapping along a weir
thumb and fore finger
   of right hand would peal back,

   (via diagonally flippant motion
   asper calendar
   representing progression of time)
   gets flipped over to veer
in one direction (linear)

revealing the next month at lightspeed
   vis a vis tempus fugit galloping tear
thy head immediately lost hirsute thickness,
   i starkly share

male or female pattern baldness
   extant along
   Harris genealogical trunk line rare
yet divulging distress
   about limp decreasing strands
   sends shivers along spine,

   gloomy feeling linkedin
   with old fashioned meaning of queer
and perchance tis foolhardy
   reeding this Samson night issue must ap pear

tis unstoppable inching closer toward
   as mortality gets near
youthful robustness fades
   replaced by senescence mere
   really ambling along tragicomic stream,
   one evinces gargoyles mockingly leer
loosing sleep and kept raggedly awake
   in conjunction dreams fraught
   with frightful haunting monsters jeer
ring sound reverberating hair
splitting decibel jamming primary cranial gear

aye tell mice elf nothing to fear...
yet maximizing this plight with poem 'ere
Yukon also temporarily part
   blond, brown, gold, et cetera locks mud dear.
early this year
gentle as calm ocean waters
   gently lapping along a weir
thumb and fore finger
   of right hand would peal back,

   (via diagonally flippant motion
   asper calendar
   representing progression of time)
   gets flipped over to veer
in one direction (linear)

revealing the next month at lightspeed
   vis a vis tempus fugit galloping tear
thy head immediately lost hirsute thickness,
   i starkly share

male or female pattern baldness
    extant along
   Harris genealogical trunk line rare
yet divulging distress
   about limp decreasing strands
   sends shivers along spine,

   gloomy feeling linkedin
   with old fashioned meaning of queer
and perchance tis foolhardy
   as reeding this Samson night issue must ap pear

tis unstoppable inching closer toward
   as mortality gets near
youthful robustness fades
   replaced by senescence mere
   really ambling along tragicomic stream,

   one evinces gargoyles mockingly leer
loosing sleep and kept raggedly awake
   in conjunction dreams fraught
   with frightful haunting monsters jeer
ring sound reverberating hair
splitting decibel jamming cranial gear

aye tell mice elf nothing to fear...
yet maximizing this plight with poem 'ere
Yukon also temporarily part
   blond, brown, gold, et cetera locks mud dear.
...er calculating polymath
no win tent to kindle,
or spark hay8 full ire rate wrath

juiced whiling away
the early evening hour hath
horror hived this february
twenty second, nah scared to take a bath.

The Process (is a Process All Its Own)
eye up ply applies
to brain storming with zest to whit
barn storming across das plains of google
to pitchfork embers tuff flickr tinder lee

with smart poetic dip pose zit
tool loom hen ate interior darkness
where lurks the monstrous akin to Perdido
otherwise known as perdition,

especially Native American
linkedin as The Buffalo Hunter
pseudonym adopted by Ballard and Sandrine,
The Green Woman, whose Side predicted to win

Pork Pie Hat predicated on FengShui yang and yin
force fields property aligned creates A Special Place
predominantly filled with A Dark Matter
only known (bee you wick), i.e.,The Skylark

and of course Poe's Children, totaling 5 Stories
helpful to down with a chaser
viz - The Little Blue Book Of Rose Stories
Ideally red (red) in The Night Room,

where an unsuspected parvenu
absconded with Lost Boy, Lost Girl
housing Magic Terror, but interestingly
one must ask - Isn't It Romantic?

Via the perspective Looking Back
feigning to be combination of Mr. X, and/or
and Mrs. God innocent looking people
yet, the progenitors of The Hellfire Club
burnt offerings indistinguishable from Blue Rose

fragrance or melancholy Ghosts
resembling trumpeting Floating Dragon
invoking grabbing by The Throat sensation
Where spirits flit to and fro

throughout neighborhood Houses Without Doors
and games without frontiers
this...a millennial Mystery
unlike the generic Ghost Story,

the main anti protagonist and/or
pro antagonist, nonetheless named Koko
who calls The Juniper Tree home
especially eerie Under Venus

provoking Wild Animals
to run berserk at lightspeed
en masse Black Sabbath
bestirs cries and whispers
proto, pseudo psychedelic

quint essence ova thermocouple
holo graphic images hypnotizing vista as Shadowland
explicit formula generating happy interacial Marriages
nah...ha - ah, the joe cuz on ewe
especially, If You Could See Me Now!
Upon reflecting with misty eyes
childhood days of yore
the mantle of anticipatory
excitement mantle I wore
upon advent of December
twenty fifth not quite threescore

years ago knew nothing
about being dirt poor
yours truly doggedly felt sense
of belonging among k9 korp
versus moody blues hangdog
look resembling Eeyore.

Now fast forward envisioning
gray bewhiskered scraggly
muttering old Unitarian
that would be yours truly courtesy
hyperbole as would be obvious
upon quick visual scan,
who dabbles writing

at least one poem within
twenty four hour
time frame i.e. quotidian
basis, eh not
so much an outdoorsman
these days and definitely not,
nor ever trumpeted
taps as militiaman

within the ranks of Kublai Khan
emperor of China, and
grandson of Genghis Khan
I remain holed up within
one bedroom apartment
unit b44 as iceman,
no, not by choice,
but series of unfortunate events
primarily faulty heater

at the mercy of fate,
a mere dice toss gameplan
always associated as separate
among establishmentarian
forever dreamily fancying
married to countrywoman,

combination platter academician.
Lo and behold days
mein kampf slipped and slid away
leaving faded memories
precious young lad oft times
felt alienated (think) castaway

yet simultaneously unable to flyaway
loosing self from mother's apron strings,
while slipping grip signals foray
into abyss conjured courtesy
thru information superhighway.

Reflection upon tempus fugit
incredulous kick **** lightspeed
precocious age sentimental reverie storybook
happy go lucky idyllic past indeed,
then bound by ignorance,
hence blissfulness no longer doth proceed.
Before scant opportunity
to make amends totally tubular slips away,
I (one generic doubting thomas)
reach out across cyberspace without delay
jumpstarting and kickstarting reflections
linkedin with fifty plus shades of gray
snapchatting and twittering
do you know the way to San Jose?

A random destination
I imaginatively mosey
lackadaisical bridging divide to Oakland,
whereby poor excuse for papa doth pray
ye will accept mine attempt

to mend figurative fences - slay
the beast of burden oy vey
once for all under woes
to paternal parent who cares -
singing yippie yie yay!

Impossible mission to banish and  
vanish woes that didst zap
thee when yours truly (delinquent dada)
fictitious and/or transgressions
he doggedly, cruelly, and blithely
years gone by did yap

pained fallout across precious progeny
alienation doth still wrap
hermetically sealed darling daughters
none other than yours truly fell prey
to his self made abominable trap

scheming adulterous liaisons
just barely avoiding marital mishap
though irrevocable psychological fallout
heavily impacted metaphorical didst kneecap
father/daughter relationships annihilated
with ear splitting emotional thunderclap,

thus only apology offered accursed philandering
soiling restitution, whereby
reparations forever swallowed
into a figurative (bay sic) wide
gulf course teed off handicap.

No matter probable (understandable) aversion ye
experienced toward lame casanova wannabe
unfaithfulness tarnished potential virtue thee
need never invite papa
into your confidentiality prithee

regarding filial rapport with Zayda
(my father) forgiveness key
as I too grieve since grim reaper will emcee,
when labored breathing ceases and Boycie
joins grateful dead.

Awareness pronounced inevitably his passing will
(does) sadden heart and soul of indomitable gal
regarding said lass, (who brusquely reciprocates)
possessing academic energetic,
italic opportunistic skill

cuz, I recognize
no vibrant rapport exists between us,
nor could or would I impose
to beget profound sharing when nil,
née nonexistent bond prevails

never knowing mine dad's mein kampf,
a moost bitter pill,
hence quite so many decades in future
when basic life functions analogous to uphill
battle, grandpa Matthew Scott
witnesses rigor mortis, which sets mine
once upon a time washboard abdomen
into matted, flaccid, and bloated flesh
as if drowned in the Schuylkill.
But sits here donned in his foreign
aged (not so lovely) bag of bones
barely functioning surviving, but by
skin off his teeth, (which explains
dentures) regretting, revisiting,
ruminating hellacious bout with

anorexia nervosa, approximately
five dozen (multiply) orbitz around
nearest solar system body agonizing,
decrying, lamenting... (slightly "FAKE"
dramatics) constant reminder deux
skinny legs ineradicable testimony

permanent indelible gawky
disproportionate ugly physique,
(particularly knobby knees and little
feet) starvation stunt houses boy
on cusp of puberty, wherein naked
undeveloped characteristics self

cannibalized attaining fullest
potential manhood - toothpick legs
(hyperbole) laughingstock, thus
maintaining shuttered life donning
trousers all year long, (albeit not
same pair) utterly embarrassed

public stares brash teasing comments
at mine psychological expense, I
grudgingly accept forever incomplete
fleshed out body costing purposeless
driven life concomitant with absolute
zero buddies, re: severe interpersonal

collateral/ fallout including missus
notwithstanding, this marriage devoid,
where emotional, physical, and spiritual
intimacy absent drooling enviously, furtively
espying healthy youths discovering vis a vis
metamorphosis transformation into young

adulthood, one kamikaze perilous nearly
figurative, asper custom made Benedict
Arnold traitor reviling against natural
processes sacrificing primate growth,
where solitude welcomed i.e. books offered

sole soul asylum hatch escape unknowingly
triggering seismic repercussions longtime
familiarization being quasi mister misanthrope
wedded to missus non people person, she
frequently exhibits hostile behaviour, which
marriage tacitly accepted as passive exit out

being under same roof as (long deceased)
mama, now nonagenarian papa, whose
former livid rage toward only son cooled as
deck aides elapsed at lightspeed, thee father/
son relationship less strained versus during
formative prepubescent stage, where sinking

unwavering, and withdrawing into black hole
wrought bereft willpower to remain among the
living depriving attainment experiencing joie de
vivre at critical chronological juncture, hence
mine entire scarred, yet expunging grief via

holistic, naturalistic, therapeutic... expressions
(exercise, meditation, reading, therapy, writing)
allows, enables, and provides modus operandi
to alleviate excoriating, lamenting, torturing...
irreversible self shortchanged inherent growth.
George Cheese Mar 2022
It comes
crashing back.
It comes
bearing down.
It comes
simmering up.
It comes,
it comes,
it comes.

The end of history
has ended.
Deep gasping breaths,
lungs guzzling the
cold moonlit air
for the first time. Breathe,
we're all here.
Sit in the night with us.

We gather here.
Seething. Boiling.
Our tribe not bound
by distance or creed.
This lightspeed collective.

What is the best way
to find a voice again?

Is it to sit,
build tented cities,
block motorways,
stamp and shout and scream,
but never break a window?

Never to burn a plantation
and strike down those who held your chains?

Never to throw yourself
in front of the King's horse?

History, snarling,
gives us the answer:
You cannot change this
with two open palms.
saige Mar 2018
Would you like windows with your
time machine?
Do you want to watch dimensions flip
at lightspeed?
Could I interest you in glasses made from quicksand?
They're guaranteed to see everything
faster than you could forget!
Awareness about behavior,
present since mine days of yore
an unswerving allie analogous
to peacekeeper ending civil war
belated insight suddenly realized

(better late than never) doth underscore
incumbent proactive communication stance
belatedly bestowed omnipotent awareness
crucial fostering ingredient to shore
maternal bond above

bejesus ear splitting roar
I admit regret (to self), there
dost belie suppressed yen to pour
out sorrows 'twixt this sole him son,
and long deceased mother, he

deprived her his love and outwore
the Scottish tartan Harris tweed
welcome (haz) mat, which pained
materialized soon after her death, nor
can compensation be made,

now ex post facto,
when futility of spilt tears got more
gauged and swept away, when
nary a trace I privately cried
amidst lachrymose lakeshore.

20/20 hindsight brought me unflagging mast
into stark painful focus,
essentially how mine
formative behavior wrought avast

dystopian emotional fractured mindscape,
which non positive coping methods
lit fuse kindling devastating catastrophic blast
from yesteryear to present silent woebegone
desolate gloomy terrain past

grandeur eclipsed by present gloom
finds yours truly stranded like cast
away bleached flotsam upon coast
amidst tempestuous rocky shoals
clinging for dear life with grasp fast,

Where tenuous, precarious,
and ludicrous ship
of state can no longer maintain
even a marginal grip
but with slight equip

age willing, wedding,
and wanting brings relief from whip
lashed incurred (within body) showing rip
pulled scarred taut welts testimony, sans
long electrified with aggravation,

excruciation, and intoleration can easily flip
a figurative switch in summary
ushering final lip
service to charade,
facade, and masquerade

at lightspeed didst clip
this...Potemkin Village,
where everything "FAKE,"
asper envisioning flickr
ring mirage recounting ancient Egypt!
Twas partly on account
of yours truly being incarnation of Samson;
spouse and I wed
please fate, don't say alopecia didst tread;
though atheist to higher power
yours truly pled
heart sank analogous
to plumbline made of lead
as each strand falls out of my head
without being replaced by another,
albeit veritable dead
cells comprised once luscious locks.

Futile effort to bemoan
underperforming hair follicles,
nevertheless I rank as just one
limey, measly, and nasally outlier,
(nevertheless able bodied, minded
and spirited wordsmith) doth dare
to express honest to dog distress;
Now tis lament to thinning hair,
yours truly doth beseech cosmic creator

donned as devil in disguise
rudely barging into
mine Scottish tartan matted lair
non-responsive to fervent prayer
revealing how mine paternal
genealogical trunk mane lion
whooshes like a red bull at lightspeed
vis a vis tempus fugit
galloping manic tear.

Early this year
gentle as calm ocean waters
lapping along a weir
thumb and forefinger
of right hand would peel back,
(via diagonally flipping motion
asper turning pages of calendar
representing father time
regarding personification and progression)
of fleeting seconds, minutes, days,...

gets flipped over to veer
in one direction (linear)
thy head immediately
lost hirsute thickness,
I starkly share and lament
those suffering male
or female pattern baldness,
and can't hope noticing
limp decreasing strands
intermixed with increasing

number of gray ones
sends shivers along small hairs of spine,
gloomy feeling linkedin
with old fashioned meaning of queer
really ambling along tragicomic stream,
he evinced how gargoyles mockingly leer
in conjunction dreams fraught
with frightful haunting monsters jeer
loosing sleep and kept raggedly awake
ring sound reverberating

hair splitting, jump/
kick starting decibel jamming
primary cranial gear
aye tell mice elf nothing to fear...,
yet maximizing this plight with poem 'ere
Yukon also temporarily part
blond, brown, gold,
et cetera locks mud dear
regarding inexplicable
rhyme without reason

invites compulsion, fixation, obsession...
why keratinous filament
growing out of the epidermis
(made of dead, keratinized cells)
matters so much, that one
unnamed garden variety generic
**** sapiens would
rather be dead than bald.
posited puzzling apt aperçu...

While pondering particular
theme to address
amidst tangled webbed mental skein
today November third
two thousand nineteen,

unexpected Möbius strip
tease conundrum unforeseen,
yet as avid aspiring scrivener
only now I became keen,
which theoretical, rhetorical,

philosophical... predicament
may not suddenly find me
flush with green
i.e. profuse legal tender,
but merely thought provoking

puzzlement addresses following quandary
stuck within gray matter of pate
impossible mission to differentiate
jagged fine line between
passion and obsession

case in point strong
affinity to write of late,
cuz yours truly susceptible
toward compulsion that doth not abate,
and mind boggling to wed healthy

love of language analogous as mate
nsync with psychological trait,
viz excessive compulsion
diagnosed years gone
by courtesy professional

mental health specialists, did annotate,
and I admit behavior impossible to satiate,
thus generating aforementioned query
how does one (me) segregate
productive interest versus excessive,
née fanatical all consuming - I narrate

oft times burning midnight oil
(albeit figurative alluded
to mister Arson Wells) witness
as logophile doth painstakingly toil
bajillion cerebral threads to uncoil,

whereby utilizing figurative tweezers
uprooting, untangling rhyme I embroil
(even using ****** Doo conditioner)
metaphorically beneath mine royal
hirsute (Scottish) matted topsoil

ultimately bringing in top gun
uncannily resembling gargoyle
shape shifting between pop eye
at lightspeed as if
greased with olive oyl
so watch out Bluto,
get ready for turmoil!

— The End —