Ephemeral yet deeply felt
I tilt towards epiphany
when sounds can stink and touch my throat
remotely groping sanity.
Much of such rich synchrony
is wrinkling into symphony
of multiple personas.
“Disorder” springs and threatens me
when they snatch and take my freedom.
A wretch, now, I fetch the score
but will always-only fail.
My tale unrails the system,
when crystals crumble order.
Burdened here, I flounder,
ever standing under
the weight of wonder’s world.
Here surly, curled up toil
bars my route with tape
entwined around the nape
grinding up my neck.
I try to heckle faculties
that wreck my plans
and take my hope,
coping with ineptitude
(crudely stewed with blued-up mood)
that’s rudely reawakened.
Here I paint my universe,
its curses and reversals,
nursing all those plans that failed,
rerailed, rewound, and cast abound
so I had to start again.
My paint performs the consequence
and holds me ever after:
and crafting tents
that hint at lending starter-vents
which rent my tinted laughter
till it comes to graft new shafters
that support my thought
and hold its tautened rifts
until I find my voice.
Choice becomes permissible
through testing moistened icicles
as paint protrudes the surface-rules
and pokes right through my flesh.
A bush for meshed up messed up floss,
Glossy now, set free and tossed unto
the rostrum of a public view,
newly crude but stewed and glued
by stimulus for the senses.
There are spaces for their Interplay
where winter days’ sparse rays of daze
are gazing at the paintings’ phase
of blazing ingenuity
fluidly accessible if
one dares to grasp the oracle
and open up the eyes.