.
i were fer sure that
one grew outta
dimplez
butt
nope
In lengthening slumberous reposes lies
Dickens' sterling pen under bluish skies;
And through them gloats deathless sun,
Taunting all that under his embers burn.
No more savoring of Oliver’s twisty trials
In doleful dints and extra-nuanced miles;
Nor shall of tested Nell all posterity hear,
Cooed in sweetly plaintive rhythms dear.
Nicholas Nickleby's adventures now
Must halt and take a somnolent bow,
And leave us at Muse’s orphan gate,
Slow to hug our stark bereaving fate.
Whence comes a defter pen to tell
Copperfield's youth and pupil spell,
By stingy virtue ridden through cry
And toil with dismal affection nigh?
Stung reader must content themselves
With ancient writs mute on dull shelves,
And with relish cherish and revive tales
Mid-voyage drowned by muffling gales.
Had I those depths that elsewhere thrive,
Swiftly I’d into your blissful fathoms dive;
And bid old pangs on the loveless shore
Eternal bye as I toe and hair slink below.
Breathlessly I’d raptured sink down till
Heart and mind grow all mute and still;
And yet explore your depths’ fairer find
By dainty dints of amorous ions twined.
I’d not satisfied yield to early pleasures
That delude shallower ocean creatures;
Deeper yet would my rapt cruising go,
Farther byeing old pangs of the shore.
If transient blisses be earlier found
In my fishy drifts downward bound,
Savor them I may but further glide
Beyond easy pies Romeos deride.
At last methinks I should espy
Your ocean’s bed before I die;
And even if not I must for now
Sink yet for deeper feel below.
every detective tells me differently the same
every respective elder tells me the same differently
who should i believe but Him who is Mistake Free
investigating the prints of my life with an earthling opinionated but oblivious
reestimating the dints of each period unfinished and so brief and unrecognizable
not realizing the propaganda that printed is actually so dreadfully fragmented
another lifetime ago i asked a reader in whose arms shall i die in
now more deeply in growth i choose life because life tastes like a properly made cookie shake
the Magnifying Glass embraces the Hourglass and perfectly matches my Ebb and Flow for Clearer Vision
Rum bottle nods with sanction
on gentle sway
The old dog spat snuff juice
that took wind
Puffins drift below the haze
Cape Flattery
is no tale
Chocolate on a white man,
the solitary wile
brackish breeze
wanders along impressions,
dints in a sea chiseled face
Heads pressed vigorously
to confine what coat resembles
beneath salted rags
Today he lives as Makah
Fair-haired;
Stained by sun and sea
Brows fall low
to hush the truth
conveyed by green eyes
Sun at high noon
jump back from the fluid sapphire
The sea, it whispers
never a lie
Sea lions yap
Snuff juice took wind
Towards Tatoosh Island
rigid draft pushes stares
Aged salt grinned at old thoughts
A child hugs heavy thighs
and bawls
It is hard for him to witness
What these elements can do to a man
Rum
Sea,
and sun
My Favorite Chair
If My favorite chair could talk,
I think that it would share,
All the hardship it does endure,
being my favorite chair.
its soft wide lips would openly speak,
of all i would share with it every week,
the biscuit crumbs, the news paper,
the letters ive tossed aside..
And if you listened hard enough,
it would take the chance to tell,
its sweet revenge,
for them dints and bends,
is hiding all my coins and pens.
Last name here, First step there, only one allay...
Vestige sagacity, flaxen ochroid genes skitter down,
Diddle drizzled dints to acquiesce an ugly axis,
Whet of whiled grime, tips on me thus to dawn,
In hands of lonely children, bid these lips bye-bye...
Bequest oaths, for ode by love is a home plight,
Coalescing pivots crux fine fortunes through,
Docent tasks fathom nature's dew of grief,
Tons of totes vex abstruse wills to loot,
But virtuous lenity glib adept heartfelt reefs,
Gait jiffy haps with tribes so grim time tears,
God's flanges tarry finales who lope o'er losers,
But foremost, guerdon sojourn souls aiding others...
Accouter the outfitter by concords of trust,
Master a gentlemen and woman of good taste,
Upon Sunrise and Sunset, leave wise and do weep,
The bequeath of ensuing generations propound...
Upon birth and grave, life and death, -but more life...