What part of human hurts?

Is it light, or liquid,

or spaces in between?

Where rainbows break?

& swallows ache

take wing away

unseen
 
 
Which hue of spectrum endures?

The black, or blue,

or all-eclipsing white?

Where contrasts merge

& merging—-verge

on regimenting

light
 
 
When does fire die?

In eyes, or skies,

or pitted depths infernal?

Where demons gloat

but hope yet floats

and floating—

is eternal

it would take so little

from you

to pull me back

from the hole inside

al-O-ne
 
 
through gritty Wonderland

refuting death

and people fantastically

deus et machina

(and so polite, too)

Still, I won’t distance

myself from myself

for all your distance

I’ll stay close to

my bones

perpetually moving

in circles choked straighter

Foregoing additional

shock and

mortal fear

and man-made concept

shirking deluded and dead minds

I always have

and always will!

in the way Kool-aid’s

always been fat free

(sneaky like that)

I’ll stain ego

begging to be heard

and break down walls

at will

refined by sugar, of course,

but hells yeah!

Suffer adrenalin

and sling and arrow

for the Heart and

the meek, only

…

the well-mannered, too,

I suppose

and sure, maybe I’m one of them

but maybe I’m

not…

donning casual wear

armor

tilting silver pen

on wild avenues

the archest of archers

Holding out my arms

between shots

for balance.

©Karen Robiscoe

 
…whiplash eyes you

hide your whiplash eyes, Paris,

and stayed epoch is so unyielding.

years too long to bear

when horizons stay bare too long…

Time more Thief

than beggar

trammeled by

your pattern…

Quantum entanglement…

eclipsed by daily rotations

(distance, too)

a Substantial miss

when matching energy

once so Near—

recedes…

carried off

in unprecedented

3rd tide

that salted waters

with Death…

Now frosted lip crashes

on mossier gold,

on hidden, Opaque reef

that cuts obliquely, but to the Heart.

Vivisecting Carnation

a petal-strewn Idol…

spuming its surplus catch

into plurality.

©Karen Robiscoe