Tag: surreal

The bitter Bold.

May 24th, 2026

Gentle.

Ever so gentle.

The nudge became a push.

–

Had one enough to struggle,

enough to curse the way,

unworthy to escape,

broken fingers entangled to pray.

–

Pierce me and kill me,

suffer me no more,

unlike the hundreds dead inside,

I wish to leave this shore.

–

Tolerance is a broken vessel,

where people try to care,

but zombies are the rule now,

here love is turned to glare.

–

Color holds no value,

only sway among the dead,

where any form of thinking,

is shunned and put to dread.

–

Lay me down to disappear,

to go away; so far away,

till none of it is anymore.

For good among it all,

has gone so far astray.

–

–
Smaller End (is still an end).

May 24th, 2026

One cannot see the sky through the clouds,

something along those lines.

The details have you so caught up,

small doses, small issues, small crimes.

The masterpiece is ever unfolding,

culling down the seed that spurns.

Till the vine turns on its own fruits,

and the chaff avoids the burn.

It’s so easy to turn the faces,

from this way to the other.

And finally civil is in the wrong,

where cracking eggs will kill another.

–

–
In this Dream.

May 23rd, 2026

Designers at every turn,

creators for every sale,

influence caress thine ears,

sipping curd at the dining pail.

–

Nothing to see here folks,

set your simple mind in tune,

for the time is not a watch,

but some still plan too soon.

–

At night the dark comes in,

rumored to keep you still,

a window in the moonlight,

more and more to fill.

–

Till fullness weighs you down,

keeps you from taking flight,

ever the sparrow tied to a string,

now is the time to fight.

–

Slumber sleeper unaware,

everything is normal,

weaves of webs upon one’s heart;

check the light for some do depart.

–

Not all that’s gold is mining,

even mountains fall to waste,

your soul is up for the taking,

Pudding will mask the nasty taste.

–
Memoir in D minor.

May 18th, 2026

Readily,

my heart races to its end.

–

I have had the love,

that churned to bitter,

and the calm that became the storm.

–

Sincerely,

my mind sets into cumbersome.

Toiling at its weave.

–

Dust devils whip their tails,

singing to deceive.

My very soul entangles ease,

with every falling tease,

of endless nights

and sorrowful days,

that embody the being

I will die in.

–

–
Mourning.

May 17th, 2026

This is where we stand now,

afraid to expose our souls.

This is where we are now,

hiding from their bitter cold.

–

No more wandering freely,

exploring the open world.

Cowering to take a walk,

dread and caliss, their convenience.

–

Can I do this, can I do that?

These are the internal chant.

They stand with death at hand,

pointing and saying, “you can’t!”

–

Now we walk in tiny cells,

waiting to be brow beat,

unable to afford oneself,

among their vile heat.

–

Color does not make a man, or woman,

truth in action speaks,

if not, you lie within,

and the worms will continue to feast.

–

–
Last Time.

May 16th, 2026

Last night was the first night everything fell away.

I was left falling at a standstill.

A subtle calm conclusion.

Laying by the wayside.

–

At either say I pardoned away the leaves.

A breadth of air that carried me.

Wayward across this journey, somewhere deep and hidden.

–

Divided against its will.

Deriving at an extent that follows.

Loaning its moment to no one.

Coveting the arrival of everywhere.

–

Only to sink into conclusion.

–

–
Death of Hope.

May 16th, 2026

There’s a sadness in the rain,

just a trickle of whats unsang,

pouring down the lens of hope,

where willows used to wallow.

–

Wisps of breeze unseen through greens,

the shades that used to follow,

now gently set their feet aground,

among the setting ways.

–

To think that once we called it life,

now wage a war and battle,

long ago where time was gifted,

has become a knowing prattle.

–

Let loose the raves that take us all,

and cry to wave your blade,

there is no care in oneness,

because the unity is washed away.

–

–
Horizon way.

April 4th, 2026

Tender ways they lead me stray along the straight and narrow.
Fraught with branding irons or nano tech tipped arrows.

.
Camo and gray are the colors of day when the light is dark as night, and real-world dreams are nightmares on the screen, and many are in the fright.

.
But lo, the winds of change are coming, and the sleepers will fall away.
Those awake will find their footing and move to brighter days.

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Whelmed.

December 19th, 2025

Adagio cantata

ever on the flow

ever re-imagined

causeway along the tide.

Swaying to the heady wind

casting side the sorrow

quietly settle one stride.

.

Where-about one seeks

against the cursed flight

rummaging for the cause

size up the wrong and right.

.

I can be this

I can be that

rising up to nothing.

exacerbated

saturated

thinking.

.

Hold that thought.
Wrestling the Dream.

December 15th, 2025

There was a vibrant glaze to the stoic vision of nowhere this morning, it was all a shone in glittery nights and melancholy daze. The candle with which one stared into voided the glass brimmed darkly, amusing the ritual of scorn. That simplistic life that one takes over serious, making it so rigid as to falter and split at the slightest temperature change.

And the motion does altar into shades of light and dark, smoothing the line so that the blur no longer needs appealing. It just shifts to whatever degree is burning brightest. Consciousness has slid into the depth of a fractured dream, a reality that does not hold.

A cell that brings forth its cunning resolution to its finite instruction, and the mass of blubbering flesh bobs along with the current. Its masterful insurrection in all the glorious colors of its wavering moment, blewn to the stormy winds, tore down by violent outbursts, that all are blind to.