#9 ~in the moment~

pondering about
the week that was
and the which will be
you fall short
and go again
you slow down
and gather speed
going with the flow
takes you places
and against
makes you stronger
be like water
forever formless
an all possible continuum
ephemeral, eternal


to walk into the unknown
and walk out
the other side
to hold the world
with unscathed hands
and know the truth
in a google search
like an army of warrior lights
take over the city skyline
with the descent of dusk
a firmament of
at your fingertips
the world is
what you could
get your hands on to

cracked nutshells
that would not pry open still
scattered rhinestones
starfishes on popsicles
another mental floss
twinkling on the sand
a paper boat
with yesterday’s news
upturned paper cups
carrying unfinished chatter

what do you want?
how much of it
could you hold on to?
will you unfold the world?
and let it breathe
start afresh
and uncreased

this world
like a sheet of paper
crumpled up
folded in halves
then a second time
and then a third
and then again
till the time
you could fold no more
and the fingers hurt

will you let it go
or will you go again
and that’s all you know
could have ever known
will ever do
to overdo
past pursuit
to an unaccounted for
beyond repair
or acknowledgement
in receipt

churning replicas
reload, aim, and fire
blowing your brains off
to find salvation
in repetition
become a retrospection
of the aftermath

a million combinations
always adding up
to this bullion
of happenstances
each waiting to be replayed
to be subscribed to
promising this time no ads
only more of the same

is this for real
or this is just once again
just one
of those times
the great wheel
of continuity
pulled it through
like it was supposed to
like it will always do
with or without you

and what are you
but a lego brick
doubling up
every morning
to fall in place
to make it rise
and come sundown
to be put back into
your little baskets
not as what
you were
the day before
or a million more
before still
but that you will
not complain
to unbecome
and to be again

Silence in Sounds

the cosmos comes
together in a sparkle
a tumultuous hurray
of sinking spirits
unfurling wings
a rising spectre
breathing flames

artillery fire
tumbling into
the primal pit
where mutiny was
first conceived and
given shelter to until
it was it’s own persona

a blinding light
disorienting senses
put to bed
and in it’s stead
the climbing flames
the diabolic
humour, passion, misery
blowing flares

slurry speech
like molten wax
climb the walls
crawling across the ceiling
falling drops of absinthe
on seared tongues
the busy motorways of dogma

this moment
a supernova
exploding on your face
radiating eminence
the devil
has found the one
who now for him
will wield the mace

dense rising fumes
that billows and bleaches
at the innards
and has no escape
for such steam
is only for the devil to
smoke his fishes
and fumigate
his toenails perhaps

yet the man has
an urge
a necessity to
show his smoke
even though
a rather beta to the
original fumes within
however with which
he may draw rings
from the mouth
and tell the world
the stuff of his dreams
and peel powerful
images of dusting ash
off his knees
to play god

over this world
a deafening silence descends
stifling, swallowing
the days
laying them out
upon the beating
of a metronome
the cold breath of the devil
watching over
the speech
of the tongue-tied
voiceless whispers
the silence in sounds