When we pass and the grave remains empty (Sonnet I)

Aside

When we pass and the grave remains empty (Sonnet I)

When we pass and the grave remains empty (Sonnet I)

When we pass and the grave remains empty.
Silence seems to confuse roles and domains.
Many fear the outcome of cold frailty.
After decease pauses regretful brains.
Time demands grief to men who enjoy shade.
Though it’s wrong to only have faith in wind.
Loneliness strengthens a need for brigades.
And it’s harmful to only plan for ends.
But light is blind if always mistaken.
For betrothed trees in dim, grotesque places.
Deities cannot forge what is broken.
Nor intertwine vast and cultured spaces.
    Dream to sooth, but please remember good sense.
    Sanity is strong, inside present tense.

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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Abstraction and Normality

Aside

Abstraction and Normality          Abstraction and Normality

Infinite structures arise
A basis for normality deconstructs
Once upon a rhyme on the Rhine….
In Disarray a ray so fine
-aly came and rocked the bush
of united roses in time for lush
blooms to remember clammy-to-swollen palms.
Clammy-to-swollen palms….while voice mails played and listeners yawned.
Clammy-to-swollen palms….embrace what you have until it’s gone.
In the heat of the air
A ray awaits a chance to redeem…..
The bridge between fair and unfair
And what it means to go home hungry;
Everything’s not what it seems.
I remember a morning by the swing
In the flowery trees and ghosts’ dream
Rotten memories alone; and souls tearing
Trying to build a new scene in honor of thee.
Clammy-to-swollen palms….embrace what you have until it’s gone.
But the street’s crack is my scar
And neighbor’s cries are my shield from what is haunting.
Never let go of ones who care;
Those wounds swell inside easily.
Clammy-to-swollen palms in Disarray
All days alone, between abstraction and normality.

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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A Jovial Holiday in Town of Disarray

Aside

A Jovial Holiday in Town of Disarray

A Jovial Holiday in Town of Disarray

If I’m to live ‘till my dying day….
A medicinal possession should intrude before the grave.
This intense breeze can divulge in the spruce turning grey
Or honor the Kingdom of White’s name….as long as it stays.
Occasionally, galaxies grin and the rotation jingles….jingles….jingles….
until the Sun hugs its sisters.
My Julia; an imposter once controlled the mountains’ songs
Thus dissolving the wreaths understanding of right and wrong.
If I’m to live ‘till my dying day….
The expressway, joined by incentives and some inevitable fray
Should scare away those possessors who block the grave.
When remembering the chapped air at Adolescence’s prime….
I smile, thus weakening Town of Disarray….
A place where pseudonyms cannot be free and gay.
My Julia; survivors shouldn’t allow Past to destroy their minds….
Nor forget the hollow jingle and its rhyme.
Broken spirits temporarily silence courageous rhetoric.
But the hollow is Christmas, and its lord is Godric.
If I’m to live ‘till my dying day….
I must find a way through the maze unscathed.
There must be a way through Disarray’s pain?
Or perhaps a warp in the cosmos….straight on to Kingdom of White’s reign!
My Julia; in the life of a widow,
there lies blooms longing for a lark’s melody.
Though aware of malice that storms’ bring,
he catches the clouds, which open cinematic memories.
Unlike bachelors who hum the nightingale’s hymn hopelessly.
Please….do not forget me….I’m barely at ease.
If I’m to live ‘till my dying day….
Jingle….jingle….jingle….hopefully awakening the hollow’s shade.
Until Julia resides….in Town of Disarray.
Or honor the Kingdom of White’s reign, as long as it May.

Robert Alexander Deason           Peace

© All Rights Reserved

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

A Jovial Holiday in Town of Disarray

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