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:

reforming stints

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.