Restless Calm

Drawn upon a

Line from the

Surreal abyss

Of this mortal coil

 

Received in advance

The coital call

Their small lapses

Through realities

 

Unscathed by the

Tempest’s wrath

Tempted by each

Temples restless calm

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Five

The reality of dreams

melding, as they meddle with

each other.

 

Their intersections create a

fair and free disparity, as

questions arise.

 

How is it that one can tell

the difference, to say to

open my eyes is to awaken.

 

Yet, I awake to these dreams,

with each wink and blink.

Seven

The truth is that

there is no story.

None worth telling,

nor worth hearing.

 

These games of

necromancy,

in absence of

the living.

 

And the excess

 

of sanity, as

with each idea

I micro-dose psychosis

 

Plagued by sane agony

as we seek the

bliss of madness

xxix.

Overcast, glorious

the cloud-clad

grace

 

Full-mooned that

Christ-massed

day

 

In all its

sweep and sway

The damselled

drips from

that starstruck

abyss

 

O’ weary day,

on night’s bosom,

head is lain

Now night a stolen

kiss from cheek

not lips

 

And bestow, upon

unknowing forehead,

slow each roaring

thought

 

As all solstice

is draped in dream,

as silence

xxvii.

The ideas

return

In a rush

and flurry

 

No longer

do they

muddy the

waters

 

In clarity,

they arise

Arise and

rise up

 

Raise them

Others sunk

after they

are thought

through

xxv.

Dance ye

dames, ye

thoughts

In your convoluted

gest’

 

Thine jest

of muses

As if upon

a stage

 

Mine, the

theatre of

fools and naive

thrones

 

A muttering

of the mute

that falls,

that only falls

upon these ears

of deaf spectators

 

A dance only

for the blind

To be understood

by the ignorant

and dumb

Felt only by the numb.

xxiii.

Come clarity,

I discoer

new emotions

 

Human conditions

at their vivid

limits

 

In seeking insight

these come

unsought

 

Thoughtless and

unthinking

Sinking upwards

Others float

below