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bluest things I ever saw.

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  • bluest things I ever saw.

    Pans and flutes and pipes
    Assuaging thought's most festooned mores,
    Moons away in triangulations
    Permutations of motion impossible
    By the owl's eyesight and her hunger,
    Insatiety, the vast grasp of scaled fish.

    A ride from wave to wave

    In this much greater universe because.

    How telling might torment hell
    To be seen with half it's moving fire burnt

    Towards clippings of moons--
    Boys and girls, and plants and cocoons.

    Where we dwell, the lower spaces,
    The mazes of contracted human imagination;

    Here we flow so no Old Sky
    Can glow Unhaunted by

    It's merely your reflection
    It's simply a play of light ... a symphony, right?

    Dim simplicity in my black eyes,
    The stars punched out from everything.

    Spiders crawl the ruined world
    There are things I have to learn accepting of.

    Spiders web around my eyes
    Perhaps the world is more than this?

    I have to maintain this fist
    Hovering amidst clashing emptiness.
    From the smallest part
    Down to the amethyst heart
    Containing this light.

    Where the red-eyed bingeful day fell over
    The hurdle of the night,

    Where the plastic shrouding this Same Scene
    Makes ghosts of what isn't real.

    Doesn't matter that the camera caught it;
    Doesn't matter that we're gone from each other.
    Does it matter that I'm scorned

    I am made into something without form,
    Does it matter I am like the shutter --

    Cannot feel to understand 'why',
    Haunted by this poignancy nonetheless.
    Have to make the problem worse
    And see the fear in both our eyes
    Will we survive will we pray to?

    Have to grovel in the thirsty mess
    Susceptible to what's next--
    Apersonal trash, where I always fall
    Down but I'm not caught.
    Meaning that you'd catch
    Me now? Loyal to surrender
    My body to your fingers.

    The stars in the sky are a mess
    Is the puddle on the floor anything less
    The eels in my eyes cannot see
    They are blind but still can Zap!--

    How everything pours out of you---

    The yellow straight line jutting through
    The blinds which are blinding you --

    But showing me. Perhaps i am the Black God--

    I am everything that is Hated,
    I am the fear on the trembling lip,

    And what succours Self within, so that by desire
    Forging from the blackness something
    Impossibly unlikely, as in opposite color,
    But more of quality of open door, --
    Threshold where the floor might just drop
    In drips of the blackest ink.

    And then they'd fall to eyes below watching
    The sea pour blue out of me. And my eyes

    Maybe wouldn't-- would try to understand.
    I still know that I have my peace to settle
    Beneath these blankets of sunlight
    Billowing over the treetops
    Like waves from the sea that got lost.
    The bluest things I ever saw.
    Last edited by amenOra; 09-16-2017, 07:31 PM.
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