Unholy mistruths and half-lies,
unearthed by bone-cracking misconceptions.

Purple steel churns, under crushing
eternal gravity. Hammer-weakened,
tempered in eternity’s forge

and crashing against dimmer,
weaker realities.

Vintage

It stands majestic in temperate woods and rolling fields.

Stone is cold, cracked, chipped, and battered.

Here stands the oldest monument – glorious triumph of science and war!

A column aged and lifeless, technological memorial to genocide and death. Memorial of a most primitive – but not wholly dead generation….

Nova

Here spins worlds
encased in diamond shells

shot and spinning – grows life!

Among even darkness,
and frozen possibility.

Bold now! Unknown!
Venture forth, dare we?

Into the growing darkness -
growing stronger daily…

Drowning,
growing over life,
synthesized disease
patched in to factions.

Choking
health, soiling
that which was once
its own life – dry yet alive.

Creation,
(the) melting (of) two
minds in to one
as is/has/will (ever) be
defined.

Possibility
of infinite new futures —

clawing,
drowning,
suffocating,
that cracked, dried,
dying sort of
“life.”

The quiet,

the silence,

not of peace and calm.

In the dark

of moon rise,

a black omen flies.

The fog rolls

and wind whirls

to silence broken.

A twig snaps

and heart booms

A leaf cracks

and heads swoon

What attacks in the darkest,

blackest dreams untold,

is just mist of fears

and imagination’s cold.

When the night comes,
it creeps.

Every lantern
creates ten shades

And every star fails to light:

The corner,
the slither,
the rustling unknown.

A primal world comes back to life,
In the glowing shadow of man’s.

It taps in the dark

Its here to remind you

That the season of cold doom is upon us

With songs

With songs, gifts, and food

We dance away the rapping reminder

We dance and sing in a denial of mortality

Let us feast

Let us cheer

Let us be merry

As we bury the dead

Goodbye to the love

and the fiery life

We won’t forget but we’ll dance away…