Stutter

The poles are laid with definite certitude
The solid strokes of an artist
An architects grand scheme
Many a suitable placeĀ I cross
Scouting to pitch my tent
Only the poles are laid with strong arms
Fumbling I drape the tarpaulin
But the poles are too high
The reach of my hands shy
Failing to unveil the masterpiece
The churning left unsettled
Thoughts remain inexplicable
The words unintelligible.

Famelandia

The swiftness of the fall of man
Immense it is
The blink of the eye just one
Would drop you off
A trailing cloud of dust is all
Enticing faux glorious paths lead to thus
Glamorous in ways
Flaunting charismatic tastes
Swallowed consumed by the shine
The very shine we divine
Excitement thrill and adrenaline high
Edging on to the corner of the cliff
To see how much the body can be put out on support
Before physics takes control
Gravity grows and plunges you below

Paradoxical glitchy world
Alternate endings abound
Telltale stories astound
Protagonist in one
In your name
– Festivals holidays feasts gifts
Or even a manhunt lifts
Till remembrance persists
And thy name resounds
A chaotic false clamor
Of fame
Or shame but a fame
Nonetheless.

Chaotic Tranquility

Little glistening steams about
Rapid turbulent flow
Floating aboard the thoughts boat
Rocking so slow
Tranquil is it watching from above
Slow music cello
Dive in arched like a bow
Chaos shatters glow
Breathless – surface to fore
Escape murderer’s glove
Pull in thoughts boat to the shore
To write it’s note

Blink try to link thoughts emos in ink
But drink to the brink and sink

Examinations of Patience

Rows and rows of rows and rows
Of desks and chairs laid out like cornrows
Within the half strong and half weak structure
Concrete and cement below
Colored sheets of metal above
The long rectangular auditorium

Four hundred groomed figures seated
Ten walking around in control further delaying those belated
The four hundred clueless and sleepy
The ten bored, ridiculing the sleepy

Beneath the insufficient number of fans
The closest too far to spare sans
Of its glorious wind that would make doze cozy
To ease a little easy
The lucky few just not happy enough
The sad most just a little unlucky lean off

The morning spent in acquiring the thing
Now held between three fingers
Too valuable to be put on paper
So sparingly used to ink with someone else’s thoughts

Occasionally wake and look up
Other slouched seated bodies dot the lot
Their degree of mobility freezes mine
Unmoving right hands and shoulders in every line

Head stoops slowly then loses hold freefalls
Brings back to worrisome thoughts
Peep beyond paper to be written to right
Heaven’s gates become visible takes shape
Imposingly tall black with golden streaks
Light filters through spelling freedom of leash
Through the wormhole quarter mile becomes none

Sudden jolt brings back to existence
Recall the last thoughts of this intermittent sleep session
Look down and see my paper empty
Knowing full well my mind is as well.