Thoughts of an Electric Shepherd

insom3Go to bed, they said…
But, these rebels won’t release me
They assemble qualms, instead
Trembling devils shelved beneath me

I sleep well past the times, I find
While I’m awake
Dwelling solely on the now
And, how it all relates

insom4Need a break from the moon
My extolled soul she consumes
We embrace and then refuse
To let go of the hold, as we swoon

Runed views profoundly cluster
As if read aloud, in the dark
Compounds that strike the structure
Of verbs and nouns, fall apart

insom1What a shockingly spun angle
Clearly more than one can handle
Hooked ideas hung, in an ample
Abundance of spilling, rambled…

Choices, voiced in samples
Picked out, without deception
Anointed gospel of recollection
Idyllically devout with its selection

insom2Stupendous questions, come with calmness
But, the process hasn’t stopped yet
Dreaming of exotic topics
From divine down through the gothic

An honest day’s refresher
Painfully fails to slay conundrums
So these harvested nectars
And stained pages, became my fulcrum

An Introvert’s Introspective

anxietyThis anxious state is great,
It keeps the mind reactive;
The brain, toying with restraints
This, I find attractive

Combative, with uncertainty
Slipping through cracks of ideas
Walk among unearthly freaks
Bypassing the path of my peers

Mirrored only by the movements
Congruent to the gobsmacked,
Confused behavioral students
Master peripheral eye contact

Did they notice me,
Pretending not to notice them?
Do they know we are prone to be
introvertDescendants, into hopeless blends

Of perspiration? precipitation
Raining down on stress filled prose
Avoiding confrontation,
Situations that suppress the soul

Palms able to quench any thirst
Even the worst of tongues can take
Opinions locked in doubt,
Living wisdom that has gone to waste

Stuttered words resemble the steps
Left by a drunkard with vertigo
Just cuz silent tastes are kept
There’s no need to take it personal

paranoidInterlopers cannot understand…
But thank you for your attention, see
Only the kindred can comprehend
Our paranoia, to the Nth degree

Awkward times with compatriots,
Asylum’s hugged, don’t shun the empty
Unwilling to share with lots
Wise men’s thoughts, compiled a plenty

Not enemies, due to second guessing
Lessons put forth by best friends
Group hugs and suggestions
Samaritans, with good intentions

stressLove and bless them;
Voices of reason are pleasing to self
But, doves that are lonesome
Are not really in need of the help

We’ll let anticipation massage
What little courage we may have left
Slumbered watchmen gaze, abject
In a party of one, until our last breath

Bishops and Brutes

bishop checkmatein an uncanny valley,
perpendicular to the strange plains
even the most animated
of grey matters, remains sane

stroll through the galleys
as they’re rowed by limp giants
the trolls move to rally,
with the goal to conspire

aspire to span distances,
greater than their strides allow
they perspire, in efforts
pawn blocksmakers that give rise to clouds

orbs that soon shower down
pounding sounds on sapiens
singing choirs in the cranium
in tones, as rich as uranium

savoring tastes from saviors
this behavior soothes the mental
nestled in it’s vessel,
textured nectars, that move to wrestle

pawn moves

proving that there’s few who
are worthy of the ample suckle
they lack the hustle,
lame slackness, cramps the muscle

so their exploits are hampered
by the dealer that provides fear
but can be forever scattered
by thoughts of positive ideas

take the finger nails, impaled
upon the bubbles of thought
not with intentions to grasp,
rook checkmateit’s caught, to eventually pop

releasing the inert gasses
that the masses ingest best
the more that time passes…
it nests, grasped in pressed fleshed

affirmed flex proves best to remove
the burdened chest plate
else unseen rooks inflict wounds
emanates in a certain checkmate

Mute Elation

half way to madness,
as the Cerberus emerges
new synapses collaborate
and genius converges

a cyclops is hatched
under incubated heaters
submerged in the vessel,
they’ll soon hark, ‘Eureka!’

displacement has made it
easier to leak out
as the pebble,
that causes tsunamis to reroute

peered doubt in the face,
monochromatic spectrums
bathed in the warm embrace
of holographic projections

visiting upon orbs,
they swarm around the orifice
originating from nothing
their assembly borders bliss

when situated inside
desolate, capitulated minds
articulated gears rotate
reticulating splines…

dine on the battlefield of vanity
there’s no room for the sorry
so, why would one invite
Moriarty to the party?

and pamper this nemesis,
engulfed in a benign substance
as gargoyles toil,
amongst the flying buttress

the voices keep suggesting
that it’s going to be ok
they’ve taken up residence,
refusing to pull up stakes

it aches to concentrate,
spent, can’t seem to focus…
the weak become heroes,
the bent, concede to dotish

anemics request warning labels
for their bubble wrap
outfitted garments cradle
the timid, with double straps

capped and wonderous vessels
sustain the appetite
colourful acquaintances nestle
sedate, then wake the night

Timed Trials

It’s been a long time… time waits for no man
Clocks hide faces and watches spot no hands
Brought forth in essence, the indelible nomad
With Ronin presence, in all of its true sense

The Riders of Rohan can’t track his movements
Despite improvements to match congruence
Rocket surgeon’s sooth sense prove the impossible
Through prudence, heightened blokes, and enlightened apostles

Children of stars beam with god-like complexions
Building bizarre speeches, in odd confessions
To reach parallels and move beyond progression
Each multiplies in size, to spawn succession

In a burst that rivals throngs of nanite drones
Sherlock and Spock tabled to talk up science
Sheep and wolves, that transcend man-like clones
Hybrids of Abel, unable to stop the violence..

Neanderthals pandering to the Men of Renaissance
Forming unions, in the colors of Benetton
Against simians moving weight inside of Kong’s claw
Godzilla laying waste, taking flames to Mothra

Burning away shadows on Peter Pan’s frame
As the boy grew up, struck, n’ bruk the damn game
Reigning on iron thrones, unknowns holding plans aimed
To handcuff handmaids and hamper a man’s gain

Adding Rambaldi functions to the Fibonacci sequence
Decipher the oddities ‘til roots are squared, seamless
Queue with Father Time, wind him up, unimpeded
Awaiting the next in line with an airing of the grievance

Squeeze each to pieces with a smothering love
Seek saves from Jeebus and bear hugs, from cherubs
Out of body dangles, as you hover above
The greatest golden rectangle that ever there was

Gulag Goulash: 2nd Bid (Revisited)

did a bid with Billy the Kid…
we ravelled in mischief and violence
so the warden had to divide us,
solitary confinement
while fellow inmates riot,
our rage remained quiet
in silence, alone in the dark
without a warm match to spark

until I harked back to the days
when I used to curse the sun
for being in my eyes
wish that ignorance was shun
until I spy why I must become wise…
And it’s wise
To become one with yourself
Possibly, better off for the health

But in that time my mind
Refused to share in its wealth
All stealth knowledge
Had been placed on a shelf
Never to be seen again
Dreaming of Toni Braxton
Ensure if I’ll ever breathe again
Metaphysical weakling

Demons turn their heads
And call me a heathen
Attempting to force a hand
Before the dagger’s out its sheath again
Cell’s unlocked, then I breathe again
No despair, no wickedness
in Hell left to rot, but now I see again,
With fresh air and vividness…