Well, com to Cerulean Nocturne, nex'perimental poetry 'log. You'll find some manual writings of invented language here. Delve in, undergo a journey behind the oblique mask of formality. Discover brand new forms of poetry. Associate your own hidden meaning from these Rorschach texts. Dare to plumb the depths. (Awl poured seas sub decked to pain and coffee rights belong exhumed and free circa twenty seventeen to the Scribblenaught.) Winsome tale. Luzum mind. Secrum wintard. Dish and find.

February 17, 2009


a longabout a Sunday evening
a nearing to one in the morn
the battalions inside us
help stave off a virus
and we are granted a
momentary reprieve

it is a new year the fertile
soil is tilled the loam is
richer helps keep the prophecy
fulfilled the work is woven
that which continues since
it was begun is manifested by
the hand and passed on through the son

looms the shadow of passage
left behind by the oldest
like the entrances to various caves
some overlap and hook back up together
and some serve to springload in
retrograde fashion a cannon
catapult into the future

the trick is how to unlock
the safety while in the chamber
and you can imagine every book
in the sink getting run through
the clapper now half our sons are shot
off into the unknown and we're left
the hangmen shadows looking for our own

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