Purgatory and Main

.
Poetic purgatory’s a place between,
the best of all verse never to be seen.
Visions undefinable, feelings unfelt
and sensations inconceivable, when
squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, squoze,
jumbled noise and random shapes,
blurry sounds and perception escapes.

Normalcy‘s all a part of prose.
Unheard the whispers whose echo grows,
frequency seldom as anyone knows.
Oh no, no, no and so the rhythm comes and goes.
Mind distracted by orderly thought.
Moments rest all for naught.
Escapers of dreams always caught.

Then times sold, image bought and change sought,
until the dollars sign to buy an eternity.
Though sense is never free, so why, why, why –
Why won’t desires die?

~

sck081017

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The Void

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Bedtime soon and demons shall awake;
but with a soul gone there’s none to take.
The screams in my head scare the spirits away.
Nightmares fast-forward to the light of day.

The ghosts turn white when I yell boo.
And the Reaper can shove his sickle too.
Coz in reality horror lives and fantasy dies.
And sleep‘s just a void behind closed eyes.

~*~
sck072517

Erasing Racings

~
We seek to seek a clue
for paths straight and true
where the angle we pursue
is our own point of view.

Degrees unchanged are unseen.
Answers lurk in space between.
All turns return to the mean.
Golden suns and blue sky green.

But the wind never bends.
A loner never lends.
Always best is time with friends.
And the unsummed heart someday mends.

~
sck071517