crimson and magic
to splash without panic
in waves of compliance
for drugs made from science
and sorceress who summon the simple solutions
illusions! illusions!
of grander worth loosing
confusing the process will aid not for coptic
nor catholic
or elsewhere semantics
act frantic in panic
to sob without reason
treason! say treason!
the exit of reason
to wander in wander a fate beyond yonder
set ponder a path set by mind on the map
of solutions and systems
domestic conditions
yet wild apparitions
appear as conditioned - concerns
to a mindset as stern and subtracted
by fractions of actions repulsed by distraction
disgruntled reactions
supposing contractions
created the action
conceived from distractions
The reasons
let change be for seasons
while i stay the rock in the pond
either frozen  not gone
as the watcher
still watching
content upon watching
exhaling the notion
that motions for movement
atonement! atonement!
with further consolement
atlas like the breeze of the gavel
let both parties ravel and tug
whether free or debugged
only mind over matter
unscrambles the lather
too see that is free
is like blind sight at sea
with the waves of conforming
to drown is informing
if not then be peace !
for all parties deceased
by a water so deep you could drown in your sleep

I lift my aching body from the bed
Liked an elder from the wheelchair: rigid

Looking at the mirror, I saw an unfamiliar face
a bad taste in my mouth, brought tears to my eyes

Oh God!
this old familiar hidden pain throughout my body
The light in my eyes dims, throughout this ordeal,
One foot move slowly, the other dragged along
Should I close my eyes, and listen' to it?

Could move on and fight this battle,
Or visual the pain with patience, a caption poem

The pain is rising up, the words began to unscrambles
Letter by letters, words by words
a needed password is required  to block or reset
Every sinew of my anatomy

I lift my aching body from my bed: I got to win
This downhill battle called chronic pain

It's a bother to bother when
you cannot be bothered,
I am not bothered about that.

Her
tongue ran away with her
as so often it did.

Funnily enough
the fever was hot and
I felt cold.

Coming attraction
self satisfaction.

playing the beads on a rosary
watching her legs in that hosiery
the devil supposes he's got to me
I'm having my coffee in bed.


Taking my cues from the fuse box
I put on electric blue striped socks
the postman rings the bell
(knocks would have rhymed,
but what the hell)

Thinks out of sync and
the bubble's not there,
no comic book jests
nothing to share

only me
and a coffee.

If I am getting where,
when?
when the ink dries up
in my ballpoint pen?

I straighten my tie
tie up my shoelaces,
sprout wings
and
if this was real I
could fly

but it's Friday
and tears
until the weather
clears up and
the Sun
comes out.

that's about it.

I wake early on weekends to a ritual of writing and
drinking the life giving elixir. My temple is the abode
of the green mermaid, where she summons the weak
with her siren songs. It’s said that she has no soul.

This is where words are born in my mind and placed in
ambiguous order; meanings known only to my soul until
the rational mind unscrambles the mess. It’s hard to be
profound with the loud world music in the background.

Trouble brews when the temple is filling to capacity. They
want my table. They don’t know I’m trying to weave a
fabric of words that will change their understanding of (place
question mark here). I am lost without my muse.

A change of venue is in order. I’ve lost my purpose and
words. My teeth are stained and my mind is no longer malleable.
I’m invisible to the passion that once inhibited my soul. I’m cast
in an ocean of blackness where the green mermaid reigns.