To lose the robust and ephemeral vitality,
is waking up in dazed desolate imitation,
that creases and crinkles euphoric principality.

Blades of grass, sharp tipped spears of unreality.
A chilling, a challenged negation;
to lose the robust and ephemeral vitality.

Spinning round the ugly formality,
are snickers, unshy sneers of an evil salvation,
that creases and crinkles euphoric principality.

Thrilling no longer a verb, piano key pressing its precious mortality
into her throbbing thrashed temple dictation.
To lose the robust and ephemeral vitality.

A ****** numb soul with the criticality
of skeptics, chewing their lips, a dead cell castration
emotional stripping, slipping into complete impromptu filtration.
That creases and crinkles euphoric principality.

Fading next to summer strength,
but
still
and unshy
of green,
it's just a range
gone.
No falling thoughts,
as you fall soon,
as once
in bloom.

what is the what, this simplicity, the great difference?


                                                ­  ~~<>~~
he reads certain words,^ then

the poet uncovered, stumbles upon, a rhythmic bearing, provoked,
his own bearing now  lost in contemplation, exits the cottage, wandering on the always wet grass, observed by animal menagerie,
espy him watchfully, a human directionless wanderer wondering, asking himself the meaning of it all, knowing answers reserved not him

we celebrate subtlety, process the minutiae of extracting an exactitude of  the precious précis of each momentary why, only when he honest confesses his ineptitude, can he truly begin to pluck words from the airy atmosphere to assemble them in format that mines the great difference in everything, the differential veins

the creatures, unshy, wish to contribute, suggesting editions, subtractions, this turn, this twist, this nuance, always clarifying, valuing utility beauteous, making the meaning perfectly clear in ways that make you gasp at words, their powerful, to define, then refine, then just plain be, be fine, finding, exploiting, drawing freehand the lines of distinction exacting
this great differences
                                                  ~­~<>~~
^
“and next to nothing is everything, all worth knowing,
you, write my poetry, as I write of you with breathless
ease and comfort, for the thoughts of all men in all
ages and lands, are original to where our eyes espy
each other, where our lips kiss to cross, cross to kiss,
what is the what, this simplicity, the great differences?”

um um um um

    (wut wut)

the *** yer
mouth

    (impaled

on slender tragedy
of girl lips breaths)

sum uhv ****
,way down    ,
yer throat

(please
)    that    (

i of

nerves exactly
body more

dither with
precise warness
of boy fingers

into tingling *****
coyness of unshy

–thigh and bone–                                                                                              )

yer
yer
yer

swallow-allow teethteeth

sc

    ****

                ing

('gainst
hollow
and
tight
instants
of instant

                     SPRING  ,  )

THESE WALLS

I look at the walls and they shy away
I hate them for they have watched everything and did nothing
Absorbing my cries in its layers
Never to hear them again
Its long arms have failed to protect me
The internal wounds  are mutual
These walls shake too
Though they try to remain strong
Even its pink paint doesn't sympathise with me

The light bulb cheers on and on
Its unshy brightness  determined
The ceiling stares back
Too far to lend a hand
Helpless as I am
Lying on the floor
Tinted  in red
This floor has swallowed my shame

These walls have betrayed me
These walls trapped my echoes of agony
These walls suffocate my mind
Only these walls tell all my  tales
Maybe behind the walls there is freedom
Or Maybe beyond  this maze  I can find my breathe
But these walls won't let me leave
#stopgenderbasedviolence
#orangetheworld