INNERVATION
1
MENTE
Un-pulsed incessant colonnades warp nonplussed replies
Tranquil touched expression veils a vortex beneath
At once the size of a brow and a heedless leviathan
Tirades of militants accost stagnant harmonies
A vociferous monomachy made of one, longing for squalls
Unfounded sortilege; errant predictions made of false speculations
Words afloated adrift
Broken upon a trough
Another one in two
Split upon a thought
The world’s dream pervading
The myriad others in your abode
Toiled sought significants, a miser’s incantations
Her words become your parlance, unintended purloining
A brood has grown from external volition
Forced hands to cloud rippled matter
Rifles slung fully loaded to press other’s worldly views
Of love worked from pensivity, enchantment’s avarice
Implanted growths; a grafting vernacular ready for the pyre
Tethered to preoccupation
The shattering of shackles
A sketch of a twinned blade
Holdfast, strike out the cacophony
Vigorously entrenched senses
Rue this day’s realized Matsuro
Hers and his words: leadened action
2
Essence
You are born in the morning
A thing of flesh: muscle, sinew, skin, bones
Bound to this earthly body and full of wanting
The need for physical satisfaction: food, water, shelter, coition
- of the purely unknown external
ordered and rigid by these emoted urges
Each day we start with a lie
To ourselves first; then followed suit
So many unaware, so many half-eye-lidded
Seeking sunlight over balance
Seeking joy over contentment
Wallowing in want
Unaccepting of their sojourner state
An ennui to act as maggots
Shearing those unavailing limbs to a tonsure
Unsheathed despair will provide the soul sustenance
The body is blind as it feels it’s wanton carnal happiness
-in its discontentment:
momentary pleasure for long-term death
Routine to build discipline must now break
The Venture is nigh
Take with you that which is ordered
4 Witch’s Revenant
A torrent grown of the hands of all those loved
The dampest of cold heat gripping at your throat
The warmest of bodies turned asunder
That weight bears no fruits of protection
There is no guardian present
With the sweetest of tasteless flesh, that harlot draws near
A corpse made of you
An eye to grow pale
The beauty of temptation drawn to copulation
She’ll make a man of you yet
Born out of the canopies of floor boards, he drops
There, in the moment of ecstasy, do you see the climate toil
This is panic driven pleasures of all those failings brought to fruition
Thatched gender and pus drowned hands
The Revenant offers terrified hope
Engorged by looks of lasting lust, this momentary murder of immortal joy
A corpse made of you
An eye to grow pale
The beauty of temptation drawn to copulation
She’s made a boy of your resolve
And the hideous royalty has the appearance of comely hair
The strands meant for the gentlest of caresses, combed to perfection
Thick glass of skin that appears soft to the touch yet razored on reality
They were made out of lost affections, these many becoming one, becoming many
The Spell-Weaver’s snare of personal candy
Succulent longingness meets unfettered desperation, a final plea for honesty
A corpse made of you
An eye to grow pale
The beauty of temptation drawn to copulation
That child in you is unrequited zeal set loose
Endless turned Corners of bleak corridors
This conjurer has given you the best gift yet
Freed from the endless pursuit of happiness
You are ready to flay those layers
Become that which is higher
Submitted to the whelm of her whim
Content in your contempt, a cerebral maze is your last graceful escape
She has the rest of you to her future’s lonesome