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[four bullet sho(r)ts of…] ~blackskies & blooddawn
1.
decay b(l)oom
silent choking
choreography
stage~spreads
in horrific strides
of fluorescing radii
with sudden strange
fruity~ floral incense
amid thick death stinks
& that this thursday’s
thirsting black rainfall
falls down venomous
arrowed in stains over
wrinkle ripen await skins
tattoos fate yet again
..& deep humors cry out
to ditched out leachates
-a wasted finality succulence
amid sound gamble of tears
a crisis city in open-dungeon
strew stacks of wrapped up
pure white sapless flowers
sooty burning funeral nation
in its breaking mass cremation
2.
self-bitten penancing moon
even the super pink moon
[from its bridal blotting out
uncontainably in the swell
rosily with a tingeing blush
of its southern uncurtaining
curvaceous edges- bulge out
pretty risky as rimming razor
metallic glob of a blinding flash
.. growing to protrude oblate
as an overblown impregnate
voluminous tissuing.. yet a clear
condensing concentrate One]
shrivels surreally atrocious
from its bridal complexional
gathering mountainous highs
to a voracious self-cannibalistic
skeletal moon.. soaking itself in
tragedy skies- screams in shrilly
soprano elegiac melancholy.. for
its virally going earthling deaths
3.
her :: the firing summer star, 'agninatchatiram'
scorchy desert(ed) stonehearts too
melt in as rarified volatilities- a rush
of an unclassifyingly brewing essence
of a some stirring astringence crisis--
of anticipation of the finding
of the feeling of the high flying
of an almost tangent~ elusive touch
of a needful breathing pain- eating
in out in a rawbleed beastly beauty
of self.. moistly~ bitten harvest
of vulnerable fruition... awaits even
more assaults of lively~deathly cyclical..
yes. this now. in conception
the rainfall spirals in a firing spree
of gushing up petrichor spirits.. from
within her aching deep soul core molten
4.
him :: from a(n) (un)day, in supreme devotee’s ritual
relentless are his visitations
for the daily 'darisanam'.. in
love’s dutiful labour.. quoted
in no fat book of definitions
but, wholly... of an abidance
in felt holy calling divinations
for that one glimpse of the deity’s
eyes.. fills in his thirst senses
to hungering spirits... adding on
a fiery streak & crackly sparkle
to the unwavering speary eyeflame
of the humming om thirdeye
today, he saintly waits.... in the
temple’s entrance... only to a saddening
emptyhanded return…
near. yet, not yet for today . for now..
Published 2nd May 2021
| Edited 3rd May 2021
Author's Note
#156 #ERULGCT. Rob. Love Ev Doo xx
Also shared for #NoPoo/ 030521/ 00:46:16
Wordless.. yet scribbling this .. in pains in hope in love in light.. motherland, this too shall pass.
Pic: Web. #IsabelleVialle Art
Also shared for #NoPoo/ 030521/ 00:46:16
Wordless.. yet scribbling this .. in pains in hope in love in light.. motherland, this too shall pass.
Pic: Web. #IsabelleVialle Art
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