Fantastically Fictional Phantasms

Blushing his mind was suddenly buzzing

With a rushing kind of thrumming thundering

His hands fumbling with wistful whispering

As he stilled listening

Quivering in attention to her symphony

Moving so fluidly it seemed

She was perfect symmetry

If symmetry could sing infinitely

While still breathing


Red lips and a tongue ring

Swayed hips like an epiphany

He used ink viciously

As he tried to capture her being

In pages of calligraphy

Ultimately ending in simplicity

And writing only two words worth keeping


And Epitome

But even that seemed to be a study in futility

Close, but still just a facsimile


Now even attempting such a thing

Was like extemporizing a soliloquy

When she’s not in the scene

It was a crushing ruptured something

Lusting up toward her but just...brushing

See because,


Crystallized starlight and sunbeams

Are the color of her eyes for one thing

Her makeup was made of the constant fluttering

Of a thousand different shades of butterfly's wings

Her body wrapped with swirling images of things

Half shown only teasingly

Blues and pinks perfectly painted in permanent ink

She wore a meticulous modesty like an alluring anthology

Audibly dancing the lines of an infatuation with her body

Calmly, and without a hint of apology


Never did they speak

But he thought of her with a quietly

Quickening need

Like a disease

Degenerative and growing constantly

Her motion kept within a distant proximity

Close, but still just out of reach

Orbiting fitfully like a belief caught by gravity

Even the fleeting demons seemed to freeze

The needle points of their teeth not quite so pressing

Folded and creased with every word that she’d speak



He wanted God but was stuck in the ministry

She was the girl of his dreams


An Ideal over which he found himself continuously

Waxing rhapsodically

Lasting and wrapped softly

In prose and in poetry

She was the standard for every real meeting

The source of a lonely rising anxiety

Only interspersed by other versions sporadically

By terse blurred physical excursions endured silently

Violent and briefly blinding

Lost like a leaf in lightning


She was a masterpiece paraded in pageantry

Absently grasping at the fantasy of his own imagining

She was a fiction with...

Cherry flavored lips and a tongue ring

Swayed hips like an epiphany

And eyes the color of crystallized starlight

And sunbeams

Too caught up in the dream

To realize he was sleeping

He fell in love with a faery


He just couldn’t see her wings

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Tell me what you think...

Silver Lace



I see me in gown-
elegant, grace
completely woven
of silver lace

trailing down,
pooled at my feet-
like a river it flows
in perfect pleat


liquid strands
hang in my hair,
against the black-
glamourous flair


intricate detail
my body bejeweled
silver lace,
webbed and tulled


such dress exists
in only mind's glance,
where it adorns my soul
throughout life's dance.



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Vast is the Night Sky

All Poems


Vast is the night sky

Cerulean imbricates the teal stained sky,

Loitering it with veins of turquoise.

Waltzing across the stage, the moon dances with the stars. 

Reaching his pinnacle, the man in the moon smiles

As he lays his precious child earth to rest.

An angel’s breath puts out the candle of light

And chills the heat ravaged clay.

Glittering gems race across the sky

Provoking mortal wishes while

Ursa Major nestles with her cub for the night.

Orion’s path to Draco illuminated by the phoenix

That roosts amongst the legends of constellations

A gentle breeze brushes against the tips

Of pine trees who dream of being decorated

By the waterfall of cascading stars.

Cricket chirps echo throughout the immense palette of blue.

Bullfrog songs soon join in the mixture of this soothing symphony.

It is this beautiful moment that, in awe, my breath is taken from me

And staring up into the blue that spans horizon to horizon

I close my eyes and whisper: “Vast is the night sky.”

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Imagery (trying =)! haha)  Enjoy!

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"No Other May Compare"

No other may compare with this Peruvian sunset,
The solarization vanquished by the height of the impenetrable Andes.
They tower over the Pacific nations, 
Silently watching the moon reflect off the sleepless, native seas.

No other may compare with this Viennese Autumn,
The edelweiss rhythmic in a lilting chemical wind.
Their petals sway softly as their white sparks the meadows,
Preparing Vienna for a mild winter.

No other may compare with this Bostonian cloudburst,
The ripples along the harbor fuzing with the cold currents.
The skyscrapers divert the atmospheric winds,
As lightning paints the horizon with an electric verve.

No other may compare with this night that sleeps in silence,
This ambience as it quiets this parlous, avid planet.
May thou rest thy eyes, thy mind, thy soul;
Let the stars protect the skies, until the sun returns.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Tell me what you think!

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Vintage scars and VCRs wrapped up in floral scarves.

Cigarette stained teeth and cold blue eyes that told you "I don't care".

Dishevelled blonde hair with a pale white streak.

How could she let her thoughts turn to death? She swore she would stamp it out.

She would stare at the ink-blot constellation, she knew that she would one day become a pillar of salt.

The beauty was her curse, she was exquisite and nothing more.

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Berlin, you sing with chords of afflicting silence, 

Your soundless voice an ominous whisper among your darkened alleys.

Fragile moon, watch from above with a shepherd's eye as I wander;

Give the mountains the shades of nightfall; walk as my cryptic shadow.


Berlin, drape the velvet skyline on thy shoulders,

Hide us from this arctic wind that cuts with a thousand razors.

Quiet ambience, cradle the valleys, the ancient Juniper, the stars of space,

Guide me as thy maverick, take me far away.


Berlin, as my footsteps become distant echoes on your boundaries,

I can hear your whisper, your voice of sweet summer rain.

Venerable mountains, as I become lost between your aphotic stones,

May thou watch over Berlin as she dreams in a perfect silence.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Tell me what you think!

"Eyes Like Space"

My footprints stretch for miles, expanding soundless through the night,

Sunrays dousing moonbeams with a blinding morning light.

A sunrise like chrome needles climbs over Martian mountains,

Clouds of sulphur yellow become acidic liquid fountains.


I stare into canals, their blues like crystal beads,

This dawn projecting warmth through this desert canyon's bleeds.

The wind begins to rush, brushing dust against my suit,

I feel the fibers rustle, the aesthetics absolute.


I've become accustomed to the silence, the muteness of this planet,

Smitten to the waters that resemble liquid granite.

My visor absorbs atmospheric radiation, 

With eyes like space I stare at the horizon's conflagration.


The sun begins to set, streaking orange across the sky, 

I patiently greet the moonbeams, beckoning they come nigh.

I reflect the double moonlight, a mirror for its gleam,

I watch the mountains and rivers sleep, a quiet, electric dream.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Continuation of "Stranger in a Strange Land."

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"Dreaming Autumn"

An autumn from a dream, it walked in pure diamond,

The meadows, the prairies, incinerated with orange.

The breeze, a hint of lavender, kissed the mountain tops,

A ground of scattered leaves under the sleeping oak.


A velvet complexion was given to the waves of ocean,

Their steel outlining beckoning the quiet sun and gentle moon.

Drowning the shores with infinite acquaintance of roaring waves,

We dance in fields of marigolds, enveloped with an October shimmer.


Your eyes match the blue Iris petals as we fall beneath a silent evergreen,

The western sunset a distant torch on an orange-reflected skyline.

A sunset to melt nations, we lay upon this night,

The stars prepared to shine like ignited magnolias.


Silence so still, a stillness, but soft,

This autumn from a dream, I wish not wake up.

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thomas edison

put in debbie

you may not have created electricity

but you control the sparks

you are a sketch on tan paper

a concept waiting to be completed

and i am a study

a converted basement

a rec room of agog

you are the inventor of desire

i am wood and nails

and you are the landscape

i am notion

a whimsical figure on the knickknack shelf

you are the ocean and the world of dreams

i am a world of condoms and you are glue

i am sandals with sox and white shorts

you are chocolate ice cream on a hot day

you are melting a drip that is rolling down my thigh

i am stained pants and breathing hard

i need a nap and you would be wonderful

to curl up to


you are in control

of that

you are quiet

quiet could mean so much

and you, the candle, continue to flicker

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