“ Rhythms ” ~ of an aberrant state ~

I feel vibrations

That mimic waves

Crashing rhythmically

At a recurrent beat,

Languidly hypnotic

In its beguiling feat…


I see forms

In total freedom,

Taking human shape

Thru machinations

Of hands gigantic,

As they compose

Bodies interpose,

Crafted in the winds

Of godless times,

A chain of human lace

So light they float

Along a crested wave,

Searching for a place

To breathe of life…


Hence with rhythmic  

Tossing dreamscape,

In an aberrant state

Cling to a downy link,

As I awake to sounds

Of a voice beyond the brink,   

Grabs for her G-string lacy pink,

As her husband hollers slut

Hammers in a fury thus,

Upon my door held firmly shut!

                                                                                                A little humour,  

                                                                                                for a friend’s errant ways!

“ A Story Of Would ” ~ tired of good ~


A story of would

Speaks of a soul,

Said to be whole

Soon tired of good,

So mused he could

Choose to beguile,

Until he’d succeed

To cough up the child,

Who’d fashion seed

Ought turn the tide,

To that satanish spell

Where he might ride

The good’s other side,

So ye cads listen well

To Beelzebub tell

This tale of a ride,

For be damnably wild,

Sure to finish in hell!