BITTERSWEET POISON
Candidates, candy lips, fiery, lukewarm, modest heat,
candles to the son.
Eager, he'd love to say calm your Easter, but the
center of attention is conflicted At the
back of his pensive. So a front is placed in-front of a frown, a ponder with
aplomb. What to do, what to do. converse until dew falls. Converse until the
moon stalls. Converse until he's dug himself even deeper in the mire. Admired
more. I really and truly have no answers. Multiple choices. Skip questions
because that's who i am. Because lengthening the rope might be the remedy,
wrong. Longer ropes mean more folks meaning more devotion, leaving more
uncertainty. Uncertain. Curtain call once more. So much sun and only 5'11"
covered in skin. How much vitamins can a man take. Each taste is different,
similar effect. Except. Who is right? All still left. Unless he becomes a
fiend, a monster, a sharpened sword, no heads will roll. These walls will not
erode. These wars will not be slowed. These thoughts will not go. Solutions.
None without pain, none for equal gain.
More pondering. More Ponche. Not
even a liking of his but if it frees it, or freezes time, he'll oblige. More
time to think. Ways out. Weighty. Serious contemplation. New developments make
the task easier. But it shan't make the asks breathe either. Exclusivity is the
name. Feels is the game. Single player scrutiny, as advertised by the
comprehension of what eyes see. Facades over words, so he never trusts what is
said. What is said. The same, the different.
Purity to be manipulated, at his
will. Well. These are all wishes, chances he ponders on. Coins are two sided,
but scythes if he ever decided one sided. Flip it. Lay down the axe. Timber!
Never mind the various timbres. By grace, he hoped it would be that easy. But
hope among man is for fools. Soft spot in an empty and full heart. Steady decay, the cadence varies when the arteries barely, piece together. More of an
understanding of perceptions, anticipations of motions, counter-attacking
pre-planned motives. But the checkmate is elusive. Never drop the cards,
although the grip is weary. Wearing no signs of bravery, a soldier trudges
onward, wary of the opposition. Wherein, his steps are calculated, the margin
of error is always a good percent or two, thereof. A Pharaoh in his own right,
living as a commoner. Complements with the surroundings almost perfectly. Almost. Only but a ruler though, not a deity.
Remove this title, such a crown is un-comforting, please do not see my request
as cowardice. Too good with words they say. Too good with words. Two good wit
words, that's all it takes. Hence comes the throne. Let him turn it away, let
him shun it. Because conceit is easy. Deceit is even easier. quite possible
to break hearts without breaking a sweat.
The decision may have taken the
turn for the best, lets see the outlook. Inwardly still unsettled, no, no
change. Keep lying. Almost back to the solemn room in the back of his head where
he sat for three years straight. three years straight, knocks at the door. but
like the fort, he is steadfast. ridiculous to the outer insight. but the
peephole is fish-eye. skewed views. peeling layers, what is the fuss about? oh,
another bout of faux pride. he wishes they'd see it really isn't so. but well.
The grand meet. Granted, grande entrance. Both ways. Granted, eyesight fixed.
Nevertheless, scales fared fairly well. No fear. Celebrations. Rave, rave,
rays, raised. Then of course, rakes in a win. That familiar language. Swerving,
the right way. Thank goodness for laws. Almost lost. Almost won. However, no
resting on laurels. More answers than questions, extremely content as
such. Still, fine china, fine china.
What art. What precision. How painstaking. Pieced together, and peace together.
Seemed to gather at least. Moscow can wait. escape, tears for such things. Deep
stares for such things. Easy actions, verse reactions. Another course? My. My
mynd. My my. I'm told to delve, test the depth. yet still i remain deaf. Still silences where motions are concerned, active death. Opened doors to be social,
wonderful opportunities. Spun webs of sticky silk since lobes need to be told.
Wisps. Whipped some may say. Careful not to be rapped, what a cliche. Still
gauging the new, the dilemma is present and imminent. Familiarity; a gift and a
fucking curse. Ha. Small wars on known turfs. Victory is unsure, valiance is
worn. For unknown wins. civil rest, or perhaps volcanoes hidden as dormant
mountains. He'll take the latter.
Relative ease in easing off, relative ease.
And here come the sentiments.
Sent in messages, but still heard. The last impressionist with the intrigue,
with the mysterious allure. And peripherals now in the picture, but suppressed.
The severity of implications would cause a surgeon his practice, so i practice
calm. Steady hands in my own field, unless. If one stopped him and asked him,
it would be as if he spoke with a lisp, that's what he ranks with. And the with
the width of wings and wind we wind up still connected, but not the phys. Tres,
quick success. Said succession. Still hinging. The hometown media should get
prepared just in case. Not Justin, no sir. Far from it. Plummets further. Watch
the season. Re-turns bring re-currencies. A new tide of current. A new wave,
opposite of the first. Think not of the hour not present. Only the presence of
the moment. conclusion close. Not elusive. Hesitant. But let's see.
