I feel...

the close constriction of Space,

the to(o)

the fo[u]r ...

And all that came and Lies,

transParent to the Human i!

I feel,

hands upon the face...

looping 'round a sundial,

that will soon slow to a rest.

I feel the slipping of a

shiny plate ladened

with the final proffer,

rising from a bruised divide:

the deep Unknown that prepossess One,

as in sleep before the Dream.

I feel,

the Potentiate, and the weight:

and Sense...

the wake of day.

01.31.2023

24 Hour Challenge @H1

Bring them.

Bring them,

...one by one

Every day.

Every day,

...stem by stem

In your teeth.

In your teeth,

...step by step

To my feet.

To my feet...

Oh, confounded, just come empty handed!

We'll pick dandelions from the cracks

of the walkway out back,

And toss straight water from the tap,

If you'll only wrap yourself around

these wilted shoulders now,

And let us bask...

01.30.23

Please Don't Send Me Flowers Challenge @Finder

As a matter of Fact

It's not the matter

That smatter I'm

Scraping up off

Lavatory floors

of the big Box

Stall Store's.

It's not I,

my mind?

I'm losing,

and in

Losing It

am looking

forth

--loose-n-e-d--

Shit walked off

on Its own

Accord!

And I know

The Address.

I've tried before

NO TRESPASSING

flapped across

the door!?

Oh let me in

mental

next of Sin,

Don't disinherit

Me from my Will

I'm scraping by!

crud that ain't mine

off from my shins.

I'm deleting

the Beginning

'Cause,

I won't feel it.

The slamming

of the revolving

Doormat,

ain't taken

anymore:

Let's pretend

The End

is a sanitary

Apron tied,

as I'm wheeled

Down the aisle,

dressed like

wedding cake

& crackin' a

plaster smile.

01.29.23

Mental Breakdown Challenge @Melpomene

The Devil wears

Good and Evil

and wears it

All too well.

Cuts a sexy

figure down

the middle,

Cut above

a cute lil

belly pooch

Broached in a

lemniscate

diamond pin

whose shapely

pair of lying

question marks

intertwine and

beguile in their

Hypnotic arts

to limbo

the stricken

within false

Persona,

wearing skins

and outfits,

to the nine:

Admired but

illusioned in

Our minds...

01.28.2023

The Devil Wears ___ & ___ Challenge @MedusasSon420

I turn the tiny ear

of the china cup

and saucer upon a

lazy heirloom dolly:

"Thank you,"

"How considerate,"

"Much obliged,"

"Shouldn'ta-"

a splash of bitters

in the invite rings

like an ambered

purification ritual;

I mop the console

and suggest, myself

another go round..?

Chin chin, porcelain,

Do, dearie really--

No, I must insist:

and turn the trolley,

just a single drop

of Life's rust is left

in this old carafe

I'm a-sharing, here in

the drawing room

where the curtains

will be closing

very soon

I know I've had

the better half

of the pairing,

rendering a

contestant

on the rise with

seamy likeness

in the mist, as I--

I fade away into

the darkening

pallor of my

own shadow

01.27.23

Tea With Your host Challenge

@HeartofaWolf

Burn our Love letters:

Let it be known that I,

The Undersigned have

embraced the newest

Wave of minimalism,

and these Articles of

Faith are last to go.

Thus is my Will, and

my final Testament---

That the bundle tied,

with its tattered ribbon,

on my chest be placed,

as into the fire chamber

this soul is made to rest.

In the beginning there was

the Word, and as it was,

in the Beginning of All,

Love, so it shall be then,

these Words without End

so that even the dumbed

might know it & live again.

01.27.2023

Blessed be the Ashes of Our Love challenge @Last

Void Must be Even Keeled

All are welcome here

the gross bilious resistance

that draws the masthead

beneath the dangling seaweed

will be made--

Maniacally clean.

The journal shall document

that our Tuesday next

was well spent...

How could I neglect?

the mental flogging

that dusted out every speck

in the mangled red carpet,

from the Attic of Aspirations

not yet met?

I mark it on the calendar

in pencil

for myself...

for you, you will not forget.

01.26.2023

Bipolars Gather Here Challenge @Finder

I had a pair

of iris that

I loved

blue-voilet

with gold

Ambrosia,

frilled and

feathery to

the touch,

C-U-T--

Perfumed

in the scent

of us

from deep

last night,

NO. 9...

I had a

couple shots

in the dark

that truly hit

the spot,

Click.

Naturalness and Artifice Challenge @Last

Truly we can love

this seated self

as Mythic,

above reproach;

But nay is that

really He? there

ceded at this

banquet table...!?

...Who gives out

Orders and

Accolades...?

and who tucks the

napkin like

a bib beneath

the dribbly chin...?

Is Man truly himself

if he is Subject..?

No, one can suppose

It ain't much so;

Serfdom precedes

as such and then,

Again if he be subject

and the object of

a meal in question,

we should indeed

question the Charge

as being truly and

adequately Objective,

if at all...?

Being prone to over

estimate his clout

and appetite, and

paying might,

on any given

Night...

to be sure

he/ she will surely

foot the bill, out

from three feet under

And in generations

to come again,

further still...

But as a Waiter

here very well off,

and down, down

down in the lines,

in the assembled

length of hands,

thoughts 'n rhyme,

I cannot help

but wonder

just a little,

teensy bit;

Should he really

..really now,

be subject

to Change..?

Or rather...

shouldn't he

just leave it

(on the table)

...as a Tip?

01.24.2023

Is a Person truly himself if he is subject to change? Challenge @batmaninwuhan

This sensation

we're talking about

is felt palpably

just now

as you graze

across me

looking for

an X

to grind

into a

write

that stood

composed,

once, and

is thus made

disorganized;

True the critic

must discard,

uncontested,

we know it

in fact of Life,

and Fiction even,

as I write;

And again

as you read,

summarily...

Readied

to deny a

single

stroke of

approbation

on grounds

of insufficient

Appeal...

Should you

pause here

to wonder,

at the autobio

of this thing...

the Rejection

on which

we've teetered...

it is so much so

as to arrest

us both

in the center

of the I...

the inner

palpitation

of a rhymeless

rhythm that

carries on

like a grieving

widow with

a heart

that flutters

backward

and forwards

in a conviction

to fit a mortal!

"Anxiety attack,"

the good doctor

will scribble

in the notepad,

and prescribe

..a stimulant

or barbiturate

...depending on

the pinnacle

at which

we've stopped

mentally

disputing

...our contact

dismissed

at the end

of this period.

01.21.2023

Rejection challege @Finder