Colliding with the Unwanted

Aside

Colliding with the Unwanted

Colliding with the Unwanted

Allow the phrases to peel off my tongue.
Without She the Non-Existent, affection is irrelevant.
Should or can the wasp stings align as the concluding bells’ ring?
Take not thou day’s smiles’ or a child’s health!
Nor do I request superior stealth, greatness, or wealth.
Just a kind she; the non-existent: Or castrate my loins.
Because there is no living without being alive with another:
Therefore, creating life and being needed by many others.
I stand upon a skyscraper’s edge at twilight;
Elephant seals, invasive but content, actually ask to go sailing;
Come seek my hands, shriveled and stiff, beside water’s edge:
Below the clouds, crowds, and shouts of peeps who peeped too late.
Seek holy ground and sprinkle seeds that honor previous good deeds.
A hologram embedded with She the Non-Existent’s spoiled smell.
Wait! The elephant seals’ want I to jump their way!
Don’t deny! Don’t deny! We are ugly, but stay until it’s time for pie!
Why? Why do you mock me when I must say goodbye?
There is no filling or cream residing in the Land of Straitjackets.
Forever sentenced to white walls and barricades singing death-favoring hymns.
‘Til eternity leads next door and brutality detaches limbs!
Never fear peculiar artic creatures! This is only my corpse’s end!
See….in religion, the stars symbolize friends who diminish demons!
Thereby clearing pathways for beginnings instead of pedological ends.
But what if? A hopeless question that’s relevant but dims….
Angelic shapes: Oh hysteria! I ask for crows to swim!
Drown me in acidic tides ‘til my nostrils suffocate at the brim!
No divinity rules me as I encounter the Grim?
Elephant seals: I will collide by your side.
Even though the unwanted our perishing in despair….
We are beings and must refuse to die!
If I jump, no story is worth being prepared.
Alas, let’s save more who struggle, before time only permits echoed goodbyes!

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

© All Rights Reserved

http://www.facebook.com/radisradicallyprimetime
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http://trippydreamsandnegativenergy.blogspot.com/
http://www.youtube.com/longhairalex

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Instantaneous Collages During May

Aside

Instantaneous Collages During May

Instantaneous Collages During May

It’s the end of my year.
The only completion I’ve ever known.
When friends and mates part ways annually….
And sometimes re-kindle their bonds amongst orange brush.
Though my eyes recount instances of longing….
For hours by fires when I and they couldn’t remember names.
My condolences go towards trees that witnessed our lack of short-term memory
While babies collect photographs just in time for dust storms
Instantaneous collages during May….
Medicate my anxiety and remind me of appreciation.
Through grey constellation’s that document woman-ful and less days.
Why am I in despair at noon?
When the Sun hugs our highest seat on Earth
Maybe citizens’ smiles turn my human qualities away?
No friend knows the answer; not even Jehovah Rophe.
Instantaneous collages during May….
Gladly given to me by psychological dolphins that provide hope
For times when all loved ones are in disarray….
And hours by fires when no one remembers anyone’s name.
Can humans really live in harmony, move forward, and keep prior connections simultaneously?
Do mere girls become ladies as boxwood’s blossom?
For years through reproduction; a rebel to a dancing queen?
Instantaneous collages during May….
Convey images of those that run away.
Graffiti galore for creators who need to say….
That evolution always evolves, and visuals prevent histories decay.

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

© All Rights Reserved

http://www.facebook.com/radisradicallyprimetime
http://twitter.com/#!/RADsPeace
http://trippydreamsandnegativenergy.blogspot.com/
http://www.youtube.com/longhairalex

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Trippy Dreams Revised

Aside

Trippy Dreams Revised

Trippy Dreams Revised

Watermelons, wine, and whisky set the tone….
For lines pertaining to pterodactyls, tears, and rainbowian trauma alone.
For creaking black-widow hornets are now commonly known.
Thou distorted faces will collapse beneath my bleeding bones.
In the rye I sing; like olden times, trippy dreams survive.

Fevers frustrate Hungarian horseflies within dreams far away.
And I wonder why my mind spills phrases that create dismay.
‘Tis not Elegance archives which formulates a plot to isolate the impoverished?
Should mental downfall, not physical, be visible to butterfly-lions that exhale beauty; inhale courageous?
Rather than minutes mocked by companions who turn black when smiles flourished?
In the rye I sing; like olden times, trippy dreams survive.

It’s the same ballad, cold coffee, and receding hair.
Even Upside-Down Land plants fish in polluted waters.
No end? No end! To the pressure applied on the colorful-ist days?
When purple seagulls can finally fly alongside clean shores.
And laser-eyed cardinals finally determine what will rather than may.
In the rye I sing; like olden times, trippy dreams survive.

To say my breath is the wind….
Is to contrast bane and a beautiful sunrise: Begin?
An inhale is a punch; an exhale is a kiss at songs’ end.
Like forty-thousand virgin cries at climax during formation of kin.
Saber-tooth whales breathe fire, but butterfly-birds sooth pain.
It’s madness inside my mind, though I have everything to gain.
In the rye I sing; like olden times, trippy dreams survive.

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

© All Rights Reserved

http://www.facebook.com/radisradicallyprimetime
http://twitter.com/#!/RADsPeace
http://trippydreamsandnegativenergy.blogspot.com/
http://www.youtube.com/longhairalex

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