Poem: Lamp

Planets forming, bubble pop off against one another

like wax in scalding infinity, sound effects would be flatulent

if they existed, instead of being locked in a cone, the light glowing

through from underneath ceiling circles

of the shadows made, forming singularity future of all

becoming just

one, stretching bonds become invisible, forgotten like

fruits of friendship, making for a mystic

hypnotism, the lost art of chance.

 

Turned off, it’s but silence and potential

blooming royal purple-hued, stillness shouting commands

for the penitent, cinder hands of stillness, paralyzed

in fear

of the truth raining, or so one would think,

missing the slender grin, imbued with the knowledge

of man’s inhumanity, the cell of the world, finding it in

power of a heartbeat, voices within will be

contented finally, for better or worse.

 

The clouds hold no wisdom, in truth

but what comes from within, shadows of regrets

victories and decimations, the win column

marked with a scythe, the blood of penalty, gut bile

bucket face

planting plunge, pulled up screaming, coughing up

universal truth, revealing a pitiless peace

unbounded by need, desire all but nonsense

now having seen this, we know it as genius in wax.

Poem: Lamp

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