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  • sitstillinthecarplease 7w

    Thunderstorm

    Overhead in a waltz of cumulonimbus,
    catacumbal sky shatters.
    A song of storms, windswept with fury,
    resonates where the population scatters.
    In petrichor perfumes, the waves turn dark.
    Northward, the thundersong wails
    and branches are conducting the gales.

    Overhead in cyclonic currents,
    fractured firmament in tatters.

    Threads of celestial fire
    impale the champaign.
    Maelstrom carves the countryside
    entangled in black rain.

  • sitstillinthecarplease 7w

    Rocinante

    Sail across the plain,
    do skirmish with lofty foes;
    the windmills turning.

    Shelter from the rain:
    is it madness or my woes
    that I'm adjourning?

    Through cascading grain
    where the bobal vineyard grows,
    autumn returning.

    Sail across the mane,
    do battle on old plateaux;
    the windmills turning.

  • sitstillinthecarplease 7w

    Saturn

    Observing the sun arc over the wheat
    illuminating each flaxen tendril,
    the eruption of emerald branches
    yellows then reddens then dies.
    Cold gales wander the valley
    as afterglow paints the skies.

    Lament for autumn as it withers in frost
    and day surrenders to the dark.
    Io, Saturnalia with your rings of celestial dust
    spiraling amid antimatter.
    Come the fires of festive chaos,
    we've candied gems to scatter.

  • sitstillinthecarplease 8w

    Pavilion

    Beltane summerhouse of ivied pillar
    and rainbow streams of sun.
    Decorated with lilac and rose;
    eld verse softly spun.

    Columnated pavilion beside the water
    beneath the gown of a willow tree.
    Where blue specters gently swirl
    with eyes of glimmering jewelry.

    Doused in a mosaic of moonlight
    shattered by cherry branches,
    Queen of twilight floats aloft
    weaving stars in astral dances.

  • sitstillinthecarplease 8w

    Dementia

    Sometimes you feel like rain
    when you gently cascade upon me
    and in those fragile moments
    I felt apart from myself.
    Time pours by the grain
    but my glass is becoming clouded.
    Who's voice whirs from your room?
    Who is this so gracefully shrouded?

    Sometimes you feel like rain
    when gently cascading beside me
    and in those days of youthful reverie
    I felt a part of yourself.
    Space is growing smaller
    but your face is farther away.

    Sometimes you feel like rain
    when gliding through the twilight
    and in these fragments of memory
    I see someone I once was.

    Sometimes you feel like rain
    as I yearn for days away from the pain.

    Sometimes you feel like rain.

  • sitstillinthecarplease 8w

    Mandala

    In sun-blistered solitude, my imaginary villa,
    light slips from dunes of shattered gold.
    I've no vivid destination
    in this haze of consternation
    and my mind has no body to enfold.

    Over suburban oceans familiar to past lives,
    tangled in tempests bleeding with rain.
    I've no conscious comprehension
    in this wavering dimension
    and my eyes have no imagery to attain.

    On silver clad mountains whet by ancient ice,
    there lay a million years of frozen blue.
    The mirage of all
    fades in a sunning pall
    as I am I and you are you.

  • sitstillinthecarplease 8w

    Fallbrook

    Birdsong cradled on whispers of air,
    darkness engulfed in aurora.
    Light pours across the emerald vale
    and cascades upon sleeping flora.

    Foxtails waver overlooking the shore,
    blush skies fade to blue.
    A caress of sea upon the sand
    as sky dons a novel hue.

    Dawn unveils dew swathed green,
    sunlight parts the white clad screen,
    branches clutch foggy plumes,
    as river splits the forest room.

    We're doused in summer rays,
    a shawl of lavender rose
    and as our eyes are filled with morn
    we'll paint our reams with loving prose.

  • sitstillinthecarplease 8w

    Panic

    Implosion of the mind, eyes dart coldly,
    illusory horrors are the walls that enfold me.
    Memories are null in the blur of regret,
    people move further away the closer they get.

    Thunder of my thoughts breed
    images of nought but
    my fears becoming what I am.
    Is it a ruse or the cracking of the dam?

    Pacing in the hallway,
    shaking of my limbs,
    as time slowly passes,
    the light inside me dims

    Presto heartbeat overflowing with
    all my logic unknowing what
    predatory panic lurks nearby.
    Overcome with tears but I cannot cry.

    Maybe I'll exist forever in mental anguish,
    maybe I'll wake up tomorrow blind,
    maybe I'll drown myself in questions,
    maybe I won't.

  • sitstillinthecarplease 8w

    Chamomile

    Sundrops glisten on the sea
    in webs of opaline.
    Starfish bathe within the deep
    and crawl the submarine.
    The lulls of a distant mandolin
    fill the rosen aisle
    as a dreamer sips from
    their sacred chamomile.
    Canopy obscures
    the threads of evening light
    and soon the sylvan shore
    will rest beneath the night.
    Pallid petals and goldenrod
    the moondial turns to summer.
    Lake-land mellow chamomile
    guides me to my slumber.

  • sitstillinthecarplease 8w

    Wizard

    Collecting your words in a journal
    of seclusion, apocalypse, and plague.
    Some might see you as nocturnal;
    meandering between dusk and dawn
    or living where the sunlight fades.

    Keeper of memories,
    reaper of forsaken years,
    adrift in your sinking ship
    making maelstroms from your tears.
    Entangled in an endless abyss,
    roaming this labyrinth of crimson mist.

    Time scratches at your mind.
    Hidden between the stanzas,
    every trinket you could never find.

    Author of isolation,
    sculptor of living shadows,
    scribbling your lyrics of damnation
    marching through the haunted gallows.
    Alas, the beldam remains at her wheel,
    no dream she weaves convinces you it's real.