A pome is a rair occurrents in weather
Something mystic you don’t see every day
A torn page of lightning
An inkwell of rain

The fountain pen of heightening strains of changing
mountain ranging bends of open gushing
nature painting out, and then
You have a pohm

Thank you voices of silence speaking
Ever helping me in seeking
Every depth and breadth and peaking
I’ve ever set to find

The lightning splashes down in canon fire
Devil tongues leap up from the mountains
And the sky roars in pain

Here come raccoon steps of rain on the roof
Here come the troops with their canons

The clock is wrinkled up in the corner, smelling moldy
Someone let the flies out
They’re flying by the time

Corner cabnet gettin spicy
Spinny inner I

Make the bed of moss back up
and sheets of rain will fall

Never undermine the awedness
the oddness of it all

Tattered ends
of grooving slowly
moving inward
lowly oozing
choosing droopy group intenders
Then centers
word mentors, absurd chanting
banters mending
open standards
broken friends
Tattered ends

Pitter patter flow
Doesn’t matter where you go
Up and scatter all you know
to the reminiscent wind

Let it blow, let it blow
Let it show you all the faceless lands
in this traceless world
It spans, it spans!

Now sip upon the teardrops dripped
from eyes new etched
In pasts too far for hands outstretched

Grip that cup of memory
Rippled water gemmery
Shining on the silver ring
of such a precious, precious thing

Flow life, flow wonders
Grow up, and under
Stand
Be tall
Go wild and sprawl throughout the land
And never stall upon the dreams
Holding now at hand, at hand
Beholding all at hand

Spacial fractals lactate crackles
splashing finger-spackled
pterydactals tracking
backward at
the vacuum stack
of lacquered plaquing
Smackdab Splattered
Cracking fractals
fracking tracts
of black enactments
sprackled at them
in cackled fragments splashed
In flash enchantment fathom

Focus
Ignore the locusts swarming out that choke us
Ignore the broken shards of past that poke us
That broke us down to shattered glass
of mirrors that evoke us
Glinting all the scattered light
of tattered thoughts that soak us
Swarming up like locusts
Storming so to choke us
Warning of the coming fall to mirror one that broke us
Feeling hopeless
Cornered, copeless
But it’s not a yoke we have to grope
We just have to focus

Rain dear
Falling out the sky
Flying forth the mystic north
that ever lit our eye

Come passion, come dash in, come bolster and bugle
Awaken the harkening hue
Calm mindful and mended and splendid and frugal
To take in the sparkling new

various areas
staring in startling glares
of hysteria
wearing mascara of charcoal entrapment
it’s happening Batman
a strike of dark knightning
fighting the Flashes of
the psychic enlightning
hubris heightening
as they say in the ashes
of the burnt-out ringsiders
of the old fighting matches
that lit up the book
king for a rook
at the loss of a bishop
and a broody old knight
trying to fork out a mishap
so bring on a soulitary
randemaciation
flyin’ on the grapple hook
of the castle’s rookside agent

Time isn’t time, but an ocean
And a being walks wading to waist
And makes with their hand a quick motion
A scoop through the water– A taste

And the fingers are plunged in a birthing
And the water that passes is years
And the feeling it gets is the one it was searching
An arc, and the ripples it mirrors

Cradled forms of fatal indoctrines
…maybe they’ll grow to invade and adopt in
The infinite beauty that pours from the stars
So we can charge money by saying it’s ours

From out the darkness shadows born
Of flaming tongue and fallow scorn
In taming rung, the chains are torn
From out the curdled Dragyn

O god of smoke and scaled peaks
From which the dread of heaven leaks
Berue the stew of molt that speaks
In shredding claws of skin

Not gold. Not bolding
Not power’s holding
Not showers folding towns in flame
Nor hours scolding blistered flesh
In meshing molds of gain

Tis souls it seeks
Tis spirits leaking out the holes
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​of never peaking one’s own roles
That ever stow within

With fear and flame
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​and shadow fame
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​and mad disdain in battled game
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​of ever never knowing
Clawing here the minds that peer
Distracting acts of blinded steering
Knowing shows of flaming fear
Allow no inner going

Peach cobbler in the sky
Painting the moon chocolate white

Melting wisps of mellow loom
in crimson yellow swooning skyfold

Wash away these empty bowls
of nonsense blues

Strike sweetness in the hearts of vacants

Fill lush, oozing, gummy notions of curiosity

Set, wandered, and mystic.

we’ll never meet again

Tri-
agonal lines
Thru space and time
At angles tangled in our mind
That pierce the fabrics that we call
The web of threads that weds the none to all