Molten Cracks Trail

Molten cracks halo

the residual shadows,

writhing in suffocation,

beneath the tread-marks

of newly balanced souls.

Effigies, beside displaced figurines,

Engulf the enigmatic throb,

Fostered in a day-glow, withering white,

Reincarnate the once procured,

Obsidian oscillation’s whirr, as it sidesteps

Procedure, while imprinting their fractured harbor,

Upon each chamber, along driftwood’s hollow stare

A blistering of countenance-

Divides dissection-

Blinds the reorganized,

Subjugation, brittle to

The veloured angle-face

Of symmetrical sovereignty

A penance bilked in purge

Flitting invocations spur

Satiation’s crypt

A rapidness a-rifling

Into clarifications gaze

To see the instant

Gratified,

Before the nerve

Of sight mislays

Those visions

Bound to fade

Babel Flute

Arbor eat EM

As Phaeton turns off track

Boa’s squeeze

To heart in chest

When wheels spite trunked legs

Foliage falls

Cradled by air

Displeasure of countenance

Carried profusely in chained fury’s protraction

Whence the Jacobean walls erode in crumbled fear

In trance you sit,

With eyes affixed

Upon a frog exiting a foxhole free

In so doing-

Your thoughts foster new opinion

No longer relocating tangential

The haunted shawl does not flutter

In the gusty hallows of soured vanes

A scene vilified in your mental tales

Replaying Calypso’s failed attempt

No longer do you smell the burning tar

Repaved are your drives

And you’re now free to dream

So

Babel on

Cut short the curtsy

Scissor kick gently

The trim of frowns

You’ve be known to wear

The Shy Spider

Shy spider slowly starts

A wearied web it must weave

An armada of ants approach

A cascade of colonized clones

As hornets hang high above

A flash of flies swarms to scent

The newt and its jealousy of change

Ashamed of its afflicted shade-

Resolved to a hue of one

Cotton fields, boll beneath

As the weevil works wickedly

Shy spider sated in soiled sentiment

Waits to weave its web at night

Where, under the light of moon,

The arachnid’s artistry’s aura glows

Until the morn, when man taints it all.

Equiangular

The path sears its trajectory

Seeking the comfort of bijection

Segregated from the clusters, an outlier

Watching point devour bundle

Wrinkling lip, as forms the Spinode

Wishing equation finds a root

Dreams, steeped in fantastical roots

Comatose, losing trajectory

Is that a point of singularity, Is that my Spinode?

Yearning for bijection

Without family, one can’t be in a bundle

Relegated, to all it knows, forever the outlier

The clusters grow distant; such is the plight of an outlier

Astir the lonely can, never able to take root

Witness to a thousand bundles

Never fearing their trajectory

Always talking, always a bijection

But its points are sharp, never the Spinode

Where is my Spinode?

Craving unity, yet cast aside, always the outlier

In my head, I’ve seen the beauty of bijection

One to one, able to catch root

A perfect trajectory

Embraced by my own bundle

The love of a bundle

Two branches of a curve meet, a Spinode

Painting the horizon with pristine trajectory

Never alone again, discarding the mask of outlier

Try to steal me from this root

Impossible for he that knows the feel of bijection

Have you ever experienced the brilliance of bijection?

Joined by the like, clustered in a bundle

Nourishing water feeding a combined root

Tangents coinciding this Spinode

Never forgetting the previous life, alone as outlier

Harnessing trajectory

The trajectory of curve, and the point for Spinode

Love comes in bundles; we pity the outlier

He without the knowledge of bijection; he without roots

D'Verse is rolling out the Sestinas tonight for their Form For All night.  Gay is hosting the evening and really did a great job introducing the form.  Sestinas are a different breed of poem for sure.  I've always found the form interesting in concept, but very difficult to produce one personally, well a good one anyhow.  I remember playing the Sestina game, way back in grad school.  We all wrote down six random words on a sheet of paper, cut each word off the sheet and placed all the words in a brown bag.  Each student went up and took turns pulling out a word until we all had six.  Then we went on to create our own Sestina.  

This is one form that always boggles my mind.  I could have picked out six perfect words, but the problem that I find popping up is adhering to their positioning on subsequent stanzas.  It's very typically the case where I find myself wanting to say something different, or more likely a great line, not including the needed word, pops into my head but can't be used.   It's both aggravating and fun at the same time.  You feel like you've passed a major challenge.  It's a bit of a rush.

The example Gay provided on the site is a really good one.  Mine normally comes out a bit disjointed.  So of course I'd have to go and pick 6 mathematical terms for the piece.  It was a challenge but I kinda like what came out of the exercise.  And it's always a good thing to challenge and expand the limits of one's mind.  So hope you all enjoy and for those of you not joining me via D'Verse.  Make sure you click on the link I've provided here to check out the other submissions, and perhaps, if you're up to the challenge, submit one of your own.

Nearing the Guillotine

D'Verse is hosting it's weekly Poetics prompt, where Kellie Elmore is hosting tonight.  The prompt she offers is to write about something, anything of a Taboo nature.  While normally I'd whip something up fresh and new, I thought I'd post a piece I wrote about a month ago as I think it fits tonight's bill fairly well.  This piece got a bunch of reads, but only one person wrote something I could publish in the comments.  I got a ton of comments though, which is the main reason I'm posting this tonight.

I love how Kellie wrote in her write-up that the worst mistake a poet can make is by playing it safe and worrying about what others think.  I agree, and that said, if you disagree, or are offended by this piece, please leave a comment.  I will post it, that is if it's respectful.  I know the crowd at D'Verse and this really didn't need any mention, but I thought seeing the last batch with this piece there was a lot of crudeness and some downright vile responses, I'd just put it down.

Anyhow, I have no problem if you disagree, but I will not edit the responses to post it.

Those who read me regularly know that no subject is off limits, and taboo is just another word to me, so I really am looking forward to reading the other contributions.

Thanks again, and with the disclaimer and all, I'm sure many are itching to see what all the fuss is about, so without further ado:




First this piece is pretty straightforward.  I've thrown in some references, but feel I don't need to explain them.  They are historical in nature but I'm assuming they aren't strange to anyone.  If so, I apologize up front- Ask me and I'll explain them.

Anyhow, I was reading a book about the 1800's.  It's kind of a capsule of sorts, explaining the majority of major acts that took place throughout the world.  It's, I believe 8 volumes.  Anyhow, while reading this I got this idea.  Well, not entirely.  I've been disappointed with the way the world is heading, especially here in the states.  It's not just disappointment- It feels like fraud.  I don't need to go on any further, you'll get the drift in the piece, I'm sure of that.  It will at times feel like a rant, well I'm hoping only one section does, as that was planned- for the rest- I hope not, but one can never tell.

One more sidebar before the Next to final act- Little bit of Vaudeville reference there- I used to be a staunch Republican.  Almost all of my life.  My family members are all Republicans, outside of my sister anyhow.  Almost all of my friends are Republicans.  Well I used to be one too.  While I still believe in much of what the party stands for, I WILL NO LONGER categorize myself as belonging to any single affiliation.  Lines have been crossed by both sides and I've found, as my personal situation has changed, both in Health and in Economy that I've been let down, and I'm not the only one- again another topic, but it ties in here. My eyes have grown wide, and boy are they seeing things from different angles these days.  And what I'm seeing is scaring the hell out of me.  If trends continue I'm scared of what just may come.

So today, well for a bit of time now actually, I've found myself agreeing to ideas that at one time I would have scoffed at.  I find myself leaning in various directions, ISSUE dependent, not trusting the elected, and I think that's important, and much too simple to not be widespread.  The days of blind trust in elected officials are gone.  Believing in what's right, again depending on each issue independently.  The days of Conservative Vs. Liberal are over with for me.  I don't care about the pissing contests or the Boys Clubs. I just want resolutions.  And not those that have been built in appeasing manners.  The RIGHT ones are what matter.  Anyhow, just had to get some of this off my chest.

Ok, enough of that.  I may throw something political out from time to time, but nothing to this magnitude.  Anyway, enough gibber-jabber:

I pity the fledglings

         For the flagon’s dry

I pity the flesh

         For irritants abound

Alieni Juris, we to you

Yet you take all from us

When lethargy comprises form.  When Darkness boils from.  Underground, back-lot shakes of sweat.  Sui Juris, you rightfully decree.  Yet in the process our keepers become our enemy.

Slingshot luck riddles corridors and passageways.  Skin clings to bone, eyes widening not from surprise.  Castes cut from tiers to two, the majority beneath the heels of the minor few.  Direct correlation can be drawn, for inactivity, progression lacks; as desperation’s levee breaks, there’s but one direction for man to take.

At such a pace, the likelihood rises, of a return to 1848-

Indignation’s ogling gaze and flatteries of spite,

 Moths, they do believe, hold steadier streams of light.  Condescension builds acute ells, to which only ignorance cannot foresee the breaking dam to come.  As each spill touches pavement hot, transformed are the meekest into Jacobin.  A new reign I do fear, a terror through- led by, what some will deem Incorruptible while others will chip lips in their reference of, Dictateur Sanguinaire.  Oh, how devolution collates scourge, when barrels bottoms satiate the tongue.  And destitution lives, as the only savored cut of meat.

The days of errant Knights are gone to grave. The Ire of our ancestry- like shrapnel, surfaces the skin.  Martyrs and sacrificial lambs, break first the line of finest thread.  If such a straw even wrinkles atop the Camel’s back, I fear it’ll be Austria all over again.

Paupers, soiled spots of dark, hurriedly scamper through, crowds of disillusioned bodies bare, all to return, stale loaves to stave, the starvation of familial fare.  But Détente will soothe some alms surface clean, while wheels of motion troll beneath.  For the good of the people, a military state I fear repeats.  Where bread thieves and rapists both, shot on sight.  Some deserving, the others, mainly kids.

Bide time the rules will try.  Ebbs in aggression will surely show.  But in the time it takes for recognition, policing poached policy will be fibrously in stew.  A quarantined society, looked down upon in view- composed of feeble flesh, pawn tickets still searing the broken hand, singed by lex loci delicti and Lettres De Cachet- a pigmentation of scurvy spawns distrust and lye.

A world where Habeas Corpus is written away, there’ll be no absolution for the poor or lost, in a world where only the rich and corruptible can stare out from their parapets, and let the wash dry off.

I pity the Henchmen

         For their piece of the crown

I pity the Everyman,

         For the salvation not found

Moats might fill the foxholes formed, to shelter the elected from their citizens.  Metropolitans sophisticate and debonair, while their constituencies skitter beneath the grates with paranoid care.  Tempers boil at what respect is not earned.  Pin the peon by the tale, Cake-eaters regal in their generosity, press conferences held in New Times Square, where monuments hail the offering of lint.  Yet they believe the lint shall offer sustenance, ignoring the screams, as death camps are built upon the tombs of our forefathers, rolling over now.  Rations severed when ages seek.  Running men will seek their stakes. And into the coliseum the Christians are sent.

Straps of leather draping chest

Shields of tin to protect

Blades of dignity shred

While the dignitaries cheer with approving bobs of head

Battle-bound are the children

The loser at the hands of brother or friend

The Winner separates forever from all of them

Tears stream the face of the victor, pausing in prayer

Yet the executioners, statesmen and leaders of men

Cheer the act, screaming while thumbs point below

I pity the hoodwinked

         For scars birthed unseen

I pity the Well-wishers

         For the Chrysalis has drowned

Politicians must unite, for it was we, the commoners that offered our faith, believing in each of you. 

Your role is simple: To protect your people, to fight for what is in the best interest of the entirety.  It makes little sense to favor any one part, when it’s the whole you should be taking account.  Petty squabbles lead to hostaged hearts and threat-laced demands only breed disinterest and contempt.

Disband your addiction to greed.  If millions of coin, still flow through your accounts, what does it matter if forgotten sums will shelter and feed your fellow man.  So, it’s because you don’t like to be told what you can or cannot do. So, you claim you’ve earned the right to spit upon those who have helped build you become you. 

Yet, what honor is there in casting blame, to previous holders of your seat and shame?  What about dealing with the hands you’ve been dealt?  What happened to our belief in you, this time, not dangling potential as a bargaining chip for another term?  The days of sleight of hand have devoured enough.  The camera tricks have blinded us.  IT DOES NOT MATTER how spectacular your Oratory skills impress.

You both, each and all, have let us down. 

You’ve quarreled on the largest stage.

Your stubbornness has debased a people. 

Our disappointment runs much farther than any one woman or man or any particularity of view. 

Our disappointment is bi-partisan.  Grow up.  Lead. Listen intently. Instead of aiming for compromise, act creatively. Act productively.  Cast aside the barterers tongue.  Cast aside how a decision may help or harm future campaign funds. 

Remember the Oath’s you all took and live up to each of them. 

If you fail you fail, but for crying out loud TRY. 

And remember, there is much more at stake here than the egos of you and your crones. 

So you stood your ground, yeah you’ve shown them.

WHO?  WHO exactly have you shown and WHAT? 

It’s all pathetic, childish and reprehensible, especially when the ground is swelling with the freshly dead.

Sacrifice should be apportioned

Sacrifice should not be equal

Those with the most to spare

Should be the ones to loosen the noose

Around those who’ve not enough as is.

If this trend continues

Drifting at the present current

If this incompetence speeds forth

Don’t assume the next in line will save the day

As they may simply fill the vacancy and choose to

Act in entitlement- Snubbing their noses at the suffocate

Solve ills now

Work together, as a whole- you don’t need to have a beer at the pub.  You don’t need to attend each other’s children’s recitals; you don’t have to like each other, Hatred is fine.  Just resolve this discombobulated mess.

There are no parties where I’m concerned

There is but the ethical, the moral, and the just

But, I fear that if this trend continues

History may repeat itself

I have no hope.  I have no trust

Prove your worth.  Prove yourselves

All of you, and start now and own your role

Piss off a few lobbyists.  Renege on the “internal politics”, those promises and assurances, that you granted your funders, your benefactors.  Simply tell them times are much different now, things are bigger than what you want, deserve. 
Show us, that even an unknown voice

Show us, that even the mute

Have as strong a say as each of you.

Offer possibility.

Knees on floor

Here is your church

Here is your steeple

Open the doors-

And SEE your people

They are looking upstairs

We are saying our prayers

Yet-

I FEAR

Hope is but the Coat of Arms

         For the Damned

It’s easier to feel terrified

         When threats are constant

It’s easier to be scared

         When feet won’t allow the throats air

If the present becomes the future

I fear Caron will appear

And tokens will be everywhere