Rich sleep folded between sheets & evening, room enough
For metaphor to unfurl & righteous clouds gather
To battle ancient suns discarded from worship
& come morning, with weapons lain
We rise layered with memories
Subconscious playground reinforcement
I #durran
Again
#9linepoem

Riding bikes under black and white blanket of stars,
Between heaven and #folde, where our humanity scars
Rips marks in the fabric of night,
Ponies of words palter in #fright,
Perhaps this is love now
Or fear or disgust?
Or all three,
Conflictingly noted
Medley.

#9linepoem
#poem

Riding bikes under black and white blanket of scars,
Between heaven and #folde, where our humanity scars
Rips marks in the fabric of night,
Ponies of words palter in #fright
Perhaps this is love now
Or fear or disgust?
Or all three,
Conflictingly noted
Medley.

#9linepoem
#poem

In the quiet spaces between words, where grief congeals,
So thick it drips in thick, dark syrup
Through my sentences and between my teeth.
So, at lowest gast, dwindled dim,
Candles whisper on the walls,
There's meaning to all.
If I speak,
Walls may
Fall.

#9linepoem

RT @bionicanadian@twitter.com

#9linepoem
#Gast connection, love said, "remember,
infinite colors, suggesting
those spectrums of feelings do
love right."..." We're the body
that spirits mind's love
from grey places
to sunshine
as twin
flames"...

🐦🔗: https://twitter.com/bionicanadian/status/1598709733724082176

Start a new chapter quickly & in breathy whispers,
Take a pause for commas, stop at periods.
Chaotic geometry smashing plates against a brain,
A mind shattered to panshard pieces,
A puzzle not worth solving
To most, at least
A final chapter
Left, thankfully,
Unfinished
#9linepoem

Windowsill herbs flourish on rims of my lower eyelids
Pruned by hands swept across white dune cheeks,
Pulling loath limbs from muddy coffee puddles,
Casting the frame of my zwodder
Sunrise, radiant natural ring light
And into another day
Clouds part ways
From my
Brain
#9linepoem

The days I wished away with rice conviction, waiting,
Under the conventional wisdom of owls who swear
The moon will give her guiding beams,
It only tires me, these days.
What perfume could return memories
I lock in cabinets,
Throw keys away
And sit
Alone.

#9linepoem
#poetry

What pause of thought to true reform could matter
When split cyning heart's doused by cupids arrow
A thousand streams could go dry tomorrow
Only to refill with weeping sorrow.
By what cold command, though
Could unmake this widows
Empty eyed stare
Toward baleful
Castle
#9linepoem

Jumbled sequence from too many drinks again city shifts
Anthropomorphic sidewalk rise to meet me lost grip
On sarig reality we're two minutes old
Blood pools in organs meat strips
From temporal lobe the pavers
Of my brain separate
Under thoughtless toes
No way
Home
#9linepoem