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Musing Grapevine~ Hearts Of Spacetime(less) Clusters:: In CryCrushKill to Eternal Concentration Brewery, Of Love
somewhere
in the rotten uprooted gardens
kept mastermindedly muted
to an otherwise outside world- painted
in a seeming comity of happenings
… lies the blindly ransacked hearts..
I feel
a looming emptiness fallen, as
I reach out little wingy hands all over
in whirring spins of a Sufi dervish
.. in a circumferential search...
knows well..
those plundering thugs
have looted away
the beating alive hearts
in an abruptly brutal
plucking attack..
& elsewhere,
it’s sooty charring~ embers
of tiny fuming serial~ eyelets
in a smouldering burn...
invoking a craving aromatic
appetite... choking fly ash
of marooned blood clots
from hearty burst- as
micronized origami effigies...
are in a forceful put down
of the mass uprising...
alongside
in amorphous resolutions, sits
hard the graveyard kohls.. in
forever longing inking sediments...
carbon- dates back to ages, lingers
still in their unpacking discrete
memories.. as solid~ structural
silences .. of a newfound
buckminsterfullerene
& out there...
in the open beastly amphitheatres ,
it is – a lethally mutated champ, an
insanely blown up killer creature… that’s
pretentiously in the mimicking enacts
of.. as if in tender lub~ dub beats ..
but their rigorous innards..
open up to a gelidly tight.. a
comatose chunk in a perniciously
emotionless logjam.. its robotic
implants never reverses
to a natural revival…
& here. yes now here...
it- wrenchingly~ unstoppably
kneading in a squeeze.. as
an epical lachrymation nation..
inundates as rainfall tears
of unsaid immensities. . those
hit~ land as bruising hailstones
.. & in relay episodes of their
smudgy~ spread synereses
tears yet again.... those
amoebic~ mosaics drift in
mergence.. as multi permutational
shaping designer liquesce snow-flakes
as teary~ flowering fertilities .. in
delicate spread geometrical
artistry... over
your pure milky white
marble stone portico.. in
ageless spreadsheet waits
of a glassy Himalayas..
that’s the sacred abode
to your deity origins
nothing there to hinder… to be
squeegeeing in the fragrant drippy
essence... of my fully~ freely
weeping flowers... in a trance...of
invisibly~ infinite wheeling in
dizzy aestivations.. of a nightly
awaken Paarijaat.. in sturdy~
peduncle hoists, that unfurls
their fluoresce flags..
..in devotional anthem
waits for you.. in
the offerings:: unblinking
bold- starbuds & nectary-
swell fullmoonblooms ..
my Sun.. drink in this heart..
Published 21st Dec 2020
Author's Note
#122 ERULGCT .Rob xx
Also #NoPoo/ 211220/ 21:23:19
pic: web. Lee Krasner Art
Also #NoPoo/ 211220/ 21:23:19
pic: web. Lee Krasner Art
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Anonymous
21st Dec 2020 5:39pm
All we've ever had is now. Think I may have been pissed once in the "eternal concentration brewery." Only reference point for your wordage is Mark E Smith of The Fall. Genius is he. The Eternal. Love me xxx
21st Dec 2020 6:01pm
Doo.. will see M.Smith of The Fall. You are the poetic sunning genius my ultimato.. btw crush~ kill & the concentration had references to concentration camps too.. as layered interpretations i would hint. juz me;) dunn wann to be darkly darkie as we ever are in our darkness continuum sacred & mystical.. & whatnot pains & unknowns , but holding the light in us, I feel the sun . in you in us in our love, you know xx:) Love ev
Anonymous
- Edited 17th Apr 2021 8:45pm
21st Dec 2020 6:20pm
<< post removed >>
22nd Dec 2020 7:35pm
I haven't seen the words comity or gelid in a dog's age, you brilliant lady of sooth. It opens, to, such as your writing tends to, with the rising music, the plucked strings, the longing loneliness of being, which we all know so well, varying only in our awareness of that knowing, so much that it places a strong yet gentle hand around my heart and squeezes. My heart that also speaks it's rising and falling musics with tangential and delicate furies and seems to progress into the darkness of what lurks in shadows, and yet you rise into these fires of devotion and hope, in ferocity of love that, in contrast to the central crescendos, is glorious and full of fire and spirit. What I called tesseract and flame in my recent write, the heart that can barely contain it's explosions of emotion. All of us are writers, holy ghosts, but some of us are elementals. I feel you. 🔥💖
