surreal


To fear the contraption Is unholy Why cringe at the thing That will remove what ails you? Your expression isn’t improving Indeed it’s only darkening This seems like a malady I can’t cure The petulance The cringing They are symptoms of a wraith-like madness Were you bitten by a wraith lately? A phantasm or perhaps a different form of otherness? Prognosis isn’t good Let’s pray to the gods of science After all, they are the sages that have made this couch and even your cringing possible Cringe

On the Altar of Heaven and Objectivity


5
A gargoyle fell through space and time Landing on top of concrete City unknown Date unknown Level of human advancement irrelevant Vagueness felt good for awhile Possibilities dotted the skyline Maybe some other motivation had planted its foot Buildings aspired to be among clouds for different reasons Then a conversation took place Meanwhile talons tapped impenetrable floors Thinking it would be nice to end the other being What happened next was an illusion Filtered through the rain and moonlight They tossed aside prejudices In favor of grit and truth Illusion

First Impression


Another game Another round through the tunnels that be The beast took a clever route Not wanting fire to lick its heels But flames were subservient too Waiting for wood or delicious mushrooms Nothing a canine human hybrid could really do Except to just keep taking those clever routes Hoping that another path out of the labyrinth would appear Hybrids always went in circles though Mechanically and with a certain rhythm Up, down, right, left The timing was impeccable Orange knives licked arrows in all directions Knowing self-obsolescence was near And that omnipotence was a step away  

Always a Frenzy



2
It was a game of daises Placed carefully on the floor of the vast chamber The shadows helped Keep royalty in line But the artificial lakes helped too Requiring resources to cross And resilience to make the journey profitable One leader and her crew built a raft to cross the mighty lake Anything could’ve been over there The journey would probably be worth the trouble Since domestic royalty was a little too fierce for her liking So the mystery seemed less challenging by comparison And they crossed with aplomb via Daily Prompt: Create

The Chamber


2
He was labeled a paragon of the left “And rightly so” The other side said But there was something insidious going on Something that went bump in the midday sun Only to level out and hide in the dark Even the atmosphere was captured properly on cameras Correct angles had to be verified So that death or violence could be associated with something else And a withering lens could see blood spilled on the bases as a home run Truly a different age A gilded goblet Given by up above Paragon

The Better Paragons of Our Nature


They gave meaning to a vast horizon But the trees were slowly tapering to a green keyhole Which was surrounded by desert There was no use racing to the finish line It was reducing quickly He wouldn’t make it in time How would he fill an eternity in the desert, then? He couldn’t count grains of sand forever At least not without cracking There had to be a way to reach the keyhole Though it had diminished even more Changing to a tired green Surprisingly, he made it just as the oasis was cutting off reality A dilemma presented itself […]

Trees Taper



Finding stomping grounds While massaging tiled floors It always ends the same way With claws outstretched Stemming from a helping hand Oh well Back to the sea he goes The waves are always welcoming Offering streams of fish And learning possibilities Not to mention a good cave or two They will never grow any larger though So he rests on the floor with skeletal ornaments Broken ships Intact dreams A perplexed eel swims by He stares at it curiously Two can play at that game  

Wayward Creature


The streets lose their structural integrity Making way for loud music So incredibly loud Music so mighty it plays eardrums The beats become louder Assaulting human with “thud” and “deeper thud” Pain receptors cajole a mind for influence But it would have none of it Only pleasure Pleasure and confusion Asphalt is now only reachable via hazmat suit and grit Just part of the package Screams come from another world Down below Also from all sides Demons wake from their slumber Wearing gas masks and ‘tude Little did the other side know That this was the ultimate battle for freedom […]

As The Streets Fade


2
After the magic 8, He disappeared to an open field Like all presidents that came before Waiting for his entourage to close the gap No one showed A vehicle reserved for shadow presidents led its fading rear lights into the dark Peripatetic Mr. President was all alone now A girl skipped a pebble his way The sun was setting and releasing pink ink onto the horizon Mr. President used only two fingers to lift the pebble from asphalt He placed it in the center of the sun Watching it disappear into a dying pink portal In a way that was […]

Peripatetic Mr. President



2
It shimmered Looking emaciated Even for a ghost The field was open and ready to be devoured But the shade wasn’t hungry Not for that Every corner of its body swirled With an incredible appetite So the field kept beckoning Sensing an opportunity The ghost placed an ear to the ground Listening for flesh, something edible Womb sounds answered back Apparently it was late to the occasion A milestone of life It eagerly returned the ear to dirt Hoping for resurrection Alas It was not to be Since the womb only made stirred once An opportunity lost on both sides

A Shimmering Ghost


2
He could say many things about this word, “tender” All of them unabashedly unoriginal But succulence isn’t romance It could never be And with that, sorrow followed He realized that tender meat could never take the place Of a life’s true love So the man In many ways just a statue Dreamed on Grasping for the Elysian fields Where both ribs coated with perfection co-existed with a box of chocolates Tender

So many things…


“Apologies, ye grace” “The lad isn’t frying as expected” “What do we do now?” The king rose from his paper throne It stretched to fit the room Snuffing out other lives “Now, we wait,” the king said “The current age has spoken” There was resignation in his voice The jester made a face that felt flat on the floor As the paper throne expanded further, the throne room seemed increasingly inferior “Where do we live now?” “Perhaps among the commoners” The jester wrinkled her nose in distaste “I’d rather die,” her expression read But the king was strong, and could […]

A Paper Throne



“Look, Mitch, we can talk this over. I’m a good guy. I know you’re a good guy.” “Take a seat,” Mitch said. He shifted for a minute, not giving Donald much eye contact. Trump wondered if the former Senator was feeling guilty. “I’m sure you must be very confused right now. You used to be the most powerful man in the country. Now, you’re…you’re…” “A has-been?” Obama ventured. “I believe we can still put him to good use,” Mitch said, giving the Obamas a blank stare. “How were you able to come up with that theory?” Michelle said, and turned […]

A Wasteland President, Part 13


A cleric was transported to a great polished hall It looked suitable enough There were fires burning in the distance Holy and magical No reason to approach them They would always burn Bright and blurry Locusts buzzed around the wavering orange hats But suddenly ceased their apathy and spread themselves thin Across the polished chamber The cleric didn’t know much Didn’t see much Only orange head ornaments dancing mockingly Behind nature’s harbingers Kneeling by the couch didn’t help Kissing the floor put fire into the cleric’s mouth Everything seemed for naught If only the light reflecting off recently cleaned surfaces […]

A Clean Abyss


In the hallowed halls of the law Proceedings pushed justice forward However blind or odorous Or tainted by a sea of stars “As infinite as the universe,” a juror said “Praise be to the stars,” uttered a robed giant “I need to be excused for biological reasons” The lines were many and proliferated in darkness Dr. Huxtable took the stand Wary of reputation And his comet’s fading tail His accusers followed the comet Becoming celestial bodies in their own right But not by their own volition of course Although they would be tarnished later As accusations of conscious stardom Rose […]

Bill Cosby Trial “A Star Was Born”




A Great Bridge assaulted Resting on a bed of doomed flowers They fell like rain amid a purgatorial peace Trying to remain untainted But other voices stirred Made strong by tragedy Permeating the bridge Embracing Borough Market Releasing a poisonous atmosphere And words meant to mask Cut-throat competition “The nature of the threat” “Enough is enough” “A resignation is in order” “Withering protective coats” If only words trumped authenticity Making polemicists burst with righteousness But at least the flowers remain Unassailable by normal men or even representatives

Lovely London Bridge


They cannot see five feet in front of them But are trained to act as if they can They glare at the terrain ahead Sensing boredom And miles of discipline “I cannot look to my right or left” “Only to an authoritative mountain” Though the mountain was crumbling It still seemed majestic to them Eventually the hills and craggy cliffs towered over them And they waved their guns in salute Of mighty mother nature They were cosmopolitan patriots acknowledging the world They still couldn’t turn their heads though Uniform

One Mountain for All



Trump had a sense of optimism at first. Now this was more like it! The buildings had gold trim. The walkways were clear and he saw a peculiar nobility in the eyes of those he walked past. They brandished gold clubs like they were the most natural, beautiful things in the world. “I thought we were supposed to go to Washington and get some files,” Trump said. “Donald, sometimes you have to understand that life happens in sequence. You can’t just skip ahead to the bits you like.” “That’s not true. Nope. Not true at all. There are a lot […]

A Wasteland President, Part 12


It’s time for a walk A little stroll along cobblestone paths Marveling at the glowing grass Drenching eyes in green Time to see the dandelions flex And the bees pirouette While coffee jugglers Create phosphorescent brown stains Maybe tomorrow they’ll get the unicorn glitter special Enjoying the pomp but not the clean up Woe to the glitter people And to all the travails that give them character

A Walk


You see it striding across piano keys Having the feet of a goad-dess And the legs and arms of a vaguely human person It did struggle for awhile Picking up stacks of hay Begging for beaver meat Polishing pitchforks for parochial devils Well now it isn’t hungry anymore It waits on top of that prison of Shifting ivory and pleasurable strings of notes Everything seems to be going well No dusty room to choke almighty intuition Then hunger finally Bringing the vaguely human person down Earth and its watery crown The moon and all its glory Seemed hopelessly distant Distant

Hungry for More



A helicopter languishes above the sea Cutting wind like a razor Forcing all of them closer To a swaying green blanket She wonders who exists beneath it And more importantly would they Recognize their sovereignty But a bolt of linen fell from the sky Sharp and deadly A deity’s loincloth perhaps Or a discarded tunic Of a feudal lord She didn’t have time to investigate the source Only to steer the helicopter into swirling Frothing, violent, loud, eye of oh my god There was the sound of the loincloth choking Once industrious blades The vast indomitable power of the sea Finished […]

Deadly Linen, Displeased Gods


Music in one ear The other is subjected to Industry and dogs parking And the sounds of winged creatures Thinking their sounds are natural The dark room continues to offer music The outside offers variations on a theme Wheels screech Motors never stop talking Vendors offer of themselves “Take the meat of man, and you’ll be happy.” The dark room grows louder Bombarded by vibrations Some decibels away from Complete despair or sensual mania The first one to knock Gets to run amok In associations and hopes and fears Meanwhile, superior meat Continuously makes itself known

Split World


A wee cottage rested in sunken grass Playing real Shirking off that “mirage feel” Nothing shimmered, giving the hint of an illusion So the bent spine approached Existence was still rock-like With no cracks All of a sudden Birds began to chirp Ripping at a pleasant fabric The bent spine winced Coming closer to the cottage It was palatial and the bird’s chirping Increased in volume The grass became greener The sky an excruciating blue Pleasant laughter from inside the cottage Too much reality Caused the mirage to come Crashing down Red outlined a bubbling vision And appreciation went out […]

Cottage/Reality



Don’t get too messy now The little casket needs your full attention And yes, legs, you have to stay firm too The soul can’t escape the vessel Holding another vessel Or so the story goes Someone was waiting for the man Holding his little wooden box Made from the finest oak “Pardon, sir, but you look like a man…” It was the first time in half a century That a casket containing failed life Was used to bludgeon a man Stay strong You have two to put into the ground The forces gave you a nice day for it “There’s […]

Down by the Crick


Nigel Farage, Chief Officer of the Brexit fiasco, is now being labeled a “person of interest” by the FBI regarding the investigation into Trump campaign’s links with the K-K-Kremlin. Did Nigel collude with members of Trump’s campaign as well as WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange? Farage, current “man of the hour,” is not at the moment being hanged by the FBI, but he could be in severe trouble down the line. He is not being labeled as a “target” but is “person of interest” any better? Probably not. I mean, I don’t think so. But I could be wrong. “Sources say” […]

Nigel Farage, Person of Interest, Man Without A Country, Confused ...


A paper says a portion is given to you Come down to the basement then Brush aside the cobwebs and any red curtains The time of triumph is here Put loyalty to flesh in one of the cabinets over there Just to see what happens Bones go in a special place too Don’t ask It hasn’t decided yet You’re getting closer to the treasure Open another door Sit down on a fantastic chair Pull the rusty metal lever As voltage goes through your veins Re-live the majesty of those printed words via Daily Prompt: Portion

You Deserve



Almost the witching hour Children offer their ethereal voices Hobgoblins their stolen goods Wolves their carcasses Santas, the fact that they’ve multiplied Out of these, The Santas are the most imposing For they control the distribution of various objects Objects that entertain or provide sustenance What if the wolf committed a sin? Or the hobgoblin stepped into a forbidden time stream? They’d be denied pure white snow The latest mechanical eye Only batteries Would be given To tell them what they did wrong Or as punishment The Santas, they haven’t decided yet

Midnight


Division in the white palace wants to tear it asunder, breaking from light-laced Paris and its climate accord, like an ice floe. Words of caution go in one ear, and fall out the other. But who picks up the shattered pieces? Rex “Rexald” Tillerson? Scott “I don’t understand how trees work” Pruitt? Surely a fire-skinned Bannon, the master of safety nets, has a plan that is beneficial for all involved? Donald “Mr. President” Trump has to choose which end of the fork is best, reduce a promise, or remove from it completely. In a way, the theme presented here is familiar […]

Paris Climate Deal-A Trial For the Ages


2
Five hovels turned to one The trees suffered fire An injured branch rested near the structure Playing the role of “memento” While three bulls guarded a wooden chest On the edge of the world Look Over there An elderly person rested in the grass It was a second’s worth of content Something else happened here More than just a list of things Beyond the simple seeming Current trace Hard to say what happened This lush scene Just wanted to move on Trace

Trace



‘Twas sunset The frogs were making sweet choruses The pussy willows moved frenetically Saying that time for bed was approaching The thing washed up on shore Slightly more evolved Infinitely more covered in fluid Would the sunset dry off this evolved thing? If not, it was weak And should be eaten Not the product of evolution, no The sun

Too Much Lake Juice


Waiting in line for the next tin He was a fan A solid fan The “Collector’s Edition” really brightened his day So expensive it was With many figurines And gorgeous baubles He was a real film buff Was a fan of murderous canines Going on rampages All smiles and anticipation He was in next in line Unaware of the hellhound Sniffing his haunches He plopped the $20 down he did Oblivious to the growing fire Coupled with screams of torment Upon turning on his heel He realized all was well Buff

An Enthusiast


A god’s wig turned pitch black Becoming bloated with a tumultuous future Storm clouds increased Concentrating for the common good “Let the future be born,” someone said So the wig dumped a load of lightning onto the world And hail The wind had realized it had fallen asleep at the wheel At best, the next few hours were uncertain Another being could hear the words from Across a growing river He was wearing a leather vest, not much else He brought it tighter around him Wondering when the storm would increase That meant failure and a good sleep The wig […]

Nature’s Wig in Labor



2
Not so long ago A face faced a hole in the ground But this one perished unceremoniously “Don’t heed the death of an aberration” Was a message chiseled on the back of a tombstone The funeral was hushed with heads down Everyone washed away the sins of dysentery Praying for the rain to start Which was pleasant weather for a burial Right weather Traditional and right Maybe the rain would wash away his sins How could he die like that? Soon it would be Memorial Day And they would have to honor an aberration Every year too At least the […]

Memorial Day (Aberration #5)


It’s time to detonate an impulse Let the landscape roll out its tension See those green hills? Trees over the there? The sky is pure blue Pure peace So many words going through different portals But everything is still calm The sky is still blue Condensed peace stretched like foil No wrinkles No bends in gray that trap the light Thunder roams in the background Given a short break Now its ready to tear through the world again Like a four-legged creature Bloated with impulses It talks Illuminating the heavens with lightning The chicken detonates an egg But what a […]

One Impulse After Another


3
On one obscure October day The world experimented with a boy He wasn’t a man just yet But the sun had different plans It would transform him into something out of the ordinary It looked like the sun anyway At least something spectacular and grandiose So a cacophony rolled in and didn’t move away And the light became brighter, waiting for skin to cease His world became obsessed with color With pomp and a transcendent celestial bulb Radiating promise Even his clothes became tainted by Vibrant reds and blues Shoes with orange laces Anything to suggest youth and change He […]

A Radiatin’ Man



Just wandering around Absorbing things Concepts, people Nothing wrong with Fighting for internal change Every second Of a rock’s life So quick and rabid just call it admirable For brevity’s sake Another plateau around the bend They’re changing for the better Onward, upward Going beyond adaptation Into repetitious change Going into an eye that is swirling As fast as Jupiter’s storms Rapid and organic Tearing limb from limb Absorbing anything wise enough To get in its path Just smile and surrender to the eye It feels good then terrible To infuse yourself With everything in reach Infuse

Like a sponge


19 percent A magic number Becomes obscurity A hole in front of the the winter palace Taking everything with it Though 19 percent is more On the optimistic side Out of the hole emerges a sword A threat, if you will That aggravates and perpetuates Because of this “The forgotten” pay The belt tightens around the middle There is excess, but not from that area It’s just that the meat around the knuckles is too much (Recent) Jared Kushner Pirouettes with Russians? Republicans Victorious in Montana Special Election

“Trump Tax” on Healthcare. The Beginning of the End?


Jared Kushner That noble face Hard yet refined Has a new entourage One who cares not for titles But for “man who colluded with Russians” And “not target, yet target” The FBI sees a noble lad Undeterred by a crown of secrecy Or thorns in the dark But mystique grows Around the December meetings And vast influence with foreign powers China, Mexico, now Russia “All part of being being a diplomat” Stories get spun While the White House is encased with gold

Jared Kushner Pirouettes with Russians?



Greg Gianforte Keeps Montana in the right-wing Shoves it under a mischievous shadow As he positions himself under a mighty baldachin “I apologize,” he said “I apologize,” he said “I apologize,” he said Rob Quist and his haunting folk songs Will have to wait Maybe they’ll accompany exaggerated carnage Or those that perish when obamacare does too Greg Gianforte, shoved onto the world’s stage Setting the stage for firehouses in your mouth “Not in your minds!” the crowd said. “Please give us firehouses in the mouth!”  

Republicans Victorious in Montana Special Election