Steel foundries on Centauri,
Talk of alien landscapes
And the sights of a red sky,
How late the light fades.
Coffee grains dapple cups,
Dissolved in the great rush
Of the nevermind morning,
And legends given no truck.
A grain of salt, a handful of dust,
The faces in mountains
Amidst deserted lives run past,
Sectioned members living plaintive.
Promises from aether ring around,
Stone walls in the forests,
Lost children playing games
For shoes and horror stories.
Timespan souls sold into slavery,
Fortunes told aeons ago,
A dream of past and mastery,
Under Tesla edifices grow.
A lovely jaw grinds
Behind neon Ruby lips,
A study in scarlet
And a newly made lisp.
Adoration in musing hours,
Fitful rest forgotten
For dour recollections
And a wisp of tactile memory.
I trained you for the twilight,
Not the daytime, but you roll
On with the legend of darklight
For brain grown holes.
Ghosts that speak when not
Addressed but just whenever,
Loud and awake like loons
Crying over swamp lakes.
I barely remember writing this, a faint stirring in far off mists of memory. The time when I would have written it is a large melange of experiences, all blurred up like thick taffy left on top of a radiator.
The desire to create a new blog has at last been realised. One free of the real life concerns, entanglement and attachments of the previous one.
Freed from the web of regard this blog will showcase various writing examples of past and present work. Maybe even future. Other various disciplines and hobbies will pop in from time to time.
In the main, expect literature, poetry, writing excerpts and quotes from a wide ranging level of erudition and spheres of experience.
Please bear with me while I set up shop in this little corner of the internet.
Spring is but the feverish dream of a madman better acquainted with immortality than I.
Summer may wait past darkling skies however strange gods paint the horizons.
We shall see in the fullness of time, arbiter of experience.