Juxtaposition of ManifestationWords are an intermedium of ideas. They are the air between the speaker and the spoken to: the distorting refractor of the purity of an idea. Separate symbols, they signify this or that as told by the author; put for purpose, probably disproportionately performing. A lot like translucency -- losing white of light: in lieu of clarity, a slough of colors. A mellow burgundy you see for the wine of romance, perchance a blue for true love Not red as blood of passion (compassion lays cooly) Fashioning all the bright of white Perfect purity now in light as adulteries unite Full of fJuxtaposition of Manifestation
Cousin of DeathSome say I'm brother to the night; They're right. Cousin of death in depth of breath -- The blue note of a worldly rondo And better yet, the rhapsody in subtle theft; Refrain that robs your life.Cousin of Death
Often times I'm called by dreamers As the Great Redeemer. Equalizing the smallest lid with the thickest sinews; Through omnipotent metamorphosis Stealing sight and mind that life continues; In unearthly fire resurrecting silent screamers.
Known sometimes as a silent keeper Of pallid sleepers, Sometimes drawn out beyond perception -- Else a wink in
Bright Left EyeThe sun is in my right eye. Deep pupil bright as your face in its light, Halo soft as words as it burns, And when darklashed night holds the sky, Ever is dawn on the horizonBright Left Eye
The moon is in my left eye. Mellow and pure, nearly the sinister of the blaze That burns with fervor; herein burns ardor Always the subtle goes through black night unseen, unwritten The story smitten with light from the spackled stars of the night.
Here, even deepest hues of blue glow fearlessly bright with a soft, transparent luminescence. We never could see it, But always had fai
A Sin of DomesticationDrivel dropped in dabbled blots of ink upon the past; At least at last I breathed a scented smokeA Sin of Domestication
Extracted from the ash. (The waitress feigned a smile, repassed.)
Stigma drenched in sauce and thought Preoccupied my present plots And subtly I'm sure it sought its infamy foremost. In fact, I doubt my doubts against its freedom from its host. I laughed as nihilism found its hedonistic spoke.
Simple smile or sharpened eye Diverts among the passing time, alerts me right To shame that's shined to glitter only in the night. A shame when cards come up the same &nb
Journal
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Surely, this sustained spectacle of supposition serves simultaneously as an introduction but shows up somewhat verbose and superabundant, so let me just add that it is my very good honour to meet you and you may call me Shian.
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chelloveck.com [link]
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Laugh hard. It's a long way to the bank.
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i might join your century, but only as a doubtful guest.
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