Incomplete Delivery

I’ve never been the problem

But then again, never had the solution,

To solve the misery that ponders us all

I’ve always been another question

In a long line of rhetoric,

an exclamation point in the middle of a hypothesis.

There’ve been times I thought I had the answers

But the easier things are,

The harsher scream the fouls

Watching the sudden twist of a turbine’s gale,

Trysting nautically, amidst a fresh gust of carbonic air,

Fleeting, permissive, derision, dismissing—

A damage plan for the self-defeatist, a manifesto for a never-ender—Sword of promise in disguise, a fury with a roving eye—Assemble NOW the gallery of rogues!

Too often we assimilate with those ravenous chills, elucidating amidst the shiver of a broken dream— a few moments truncated, by grammar, both bent and unrelieved…

The Gauntlet of Time

Incisor

         Gauntlet’s thrown

Trails beyond the coil’s might

Tightly strung is carnelian’s light

         Trans-lucent milky

The crystals made from chalcedony

Impostor, so be found, deep inside, shies the arch of trothed pass

         To one’s self, insolence retraced,

                  The fiend, which feasts on veils of glass

Is nothing more than a past-life erased

Tapestries fade

And new draperies take their place

Time’s sand sifts though

But only if you forget to reverse its flow

Disorientation in the AM.

I awoke with a strange aura glistening the room.
At first I felt frightened, then I don't know what

But as always, logic solved

After the waking moments waked
I realized I had installed these little tap on lights
underneath the book shelves

must've forgot to turn them off...

Could there be another explanation?

Perhaps...
most likely...
yes...
         but I don't want to dream on that
         line. I've been down that path too
         often for it to only be dream.

Perhaps...

If the lights are on the morrow