Writer of poems. Wizard of Sinterfeld. Friend to the forgotten. Be my guest, take a rest, and interact.
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Compass Ominous
It starts in the evenings,
After ruin tolls his bell.
Like the last smile you knew,
How it never fades from view.
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Gone from the wide open,
I am illuminated in a dance,
With circuitous stars,
Stars, encroaching the dark.
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It's light by the millions,
I can't follow their destination,
A druid fumbling in the sun.
The moon reminds everyone.
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Northern compass has turned south,
We forgot who North was meant for.
Night terror foundlings befriend us,
Their grins are the compass ominous.
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The Ants March On
Thousands rise like pollen.
Delving into the brush,
Dismembering the fallen,
Storing away their vitae.
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Marching against time,
Defying the tyranny of death,
Dictations of nature collect grime,
Like weeds spreading seeds.
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Even the wind is tyranny.
Clouds look down on them,
Thunderous to their colony,
Stealing by water the son and daughter.
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They war with man, with the manifest!
As a passing stone crushes them,
The land finds in their wreckage, rest,
In their soul's release, the world's at peace.
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Peace
Summer's heat rises.
Rustling trees burn orange,
At the end of life.
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The Arrogant House
The frame, paint peeling with age.
Termites swarm behind the film,
Of a color foreign to its origin,
Hanging on the wall behind curtains.
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Faintness of sun, a sepia hue,
Varnish long exposed to time,
Their faces hidden behind him,
Protector, proctor of pustuled vim.
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In vanity, dyes were parceled.
Oil and canvas, a master's touch,
Sealed and saved with admiration,
Glazed to imprison one's emotion.
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Like a mirror, but undying.
Flecks of flies and spalling paint,
Hosts of memories long abandoned,
Falling leaves which autumn shunned.
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With a crack, it falls to the floor.
Swept and brushed from the corner.
The square of smoke the only stain,
As hosts of glory break in twain.
#saltfield#poetry#poem#recluse#writing#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#philosophy#pride
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Contentment
Syllables become scimitars,
As a grieving heart goes awry,
When the ideal world whisks away,
Wanting more than day-to-day.
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Cheer me the answers in a glass,
In an hour or two's budding glee.
Coursing through your vanities,
Shifting between personalities.
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Escape their censured improbables,
Cutting wit is a tongue too repressed,
Love so demeaned in skulker's deliverance,
As dark, grows the heart, in such ambivalence.
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Deeper Meaning
Slow, the manifesting vision,
Hidden words spoken by night,
Where metaphors metastasize,
Imprisoned in a slumbering incision.
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Daylight. The world beyond the veil.
Crossed between the pale,
Of a memory in my memories,
Distorted with a fairytale.
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Return through the hazy gate,
Fading, unknown life I lived.
Revelry with the spirits forgotten,
Storied chaos they ameliorate.
#saltfield#poetry#poem#recluse#writing#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#dreams#nightmares
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Decrepit Youth
Who you remember as your old self,
Is younger than your old self,
Who wishes for their young self,
Older than they ever were.
#saltfield#poetry#poem#recluse#writing#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#philosophy#age#youth#time
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Deterministic Blue
Distress, my capital city.
A tower of lights like you,
My pinnacle of lofty affection,
Far from the world I knew.
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My future is a mausoleum,
I have nothing left without you.
I know that I would never live.
It's deterministic blue.
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Border towns are set ablaze,
Marauders stole my special place.
A warband you command,
Has ravaged beauty's face.
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I can't carry on without your carrion.
You bring death to the humdrum beliefs,
It's a color I can't quite comprehend,
But it brings me the sweetest reliefs.
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Dangling Carrot
A circle of stones,
Overgrowth clings to the ledges.
Char and ash like rubble,
Youth, bonfires, memory's edges.
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Still sizzling, a crack.
Smoke from embers follows us.
That wisp of fire whispers,
A light less than glorious.
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We boiled in the heat of desire,
The fluids of motion.
Steam and smoke twist together,
Under a sky of broken emotion.
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Latent haze. Wet with dew.
No flowers bloom this time.
I dreamt of life when it was mine,
In a fire. Burnt. Lost. Sublime.
#saltfield#poetry#poem#writing#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#love#philosophy#memory#hope#bonfire#romance
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I'm Partiality
While sunlight falls upon the sands,
Each grain a prism, the earth a rainbow,
I dream of soils in darker lands,
Where I can rest in monotone murk.
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I have it all. I've gained my share.
With sentience, grown in prosperity,
Illuminated like the stars' own lair,
I repulse at the grafting of my soul.
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Dreaded humors which sate my muse,
You're the skeletons in my closet,
The monsters under every bed I use,
And the nightmare I reawaken to.
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Respite gleans the sheafs of harvest,
Labor reaps where respite faltered,
Both to cull where I invest,
As light, the prison for the darkness.
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I wander the fields, planting seeds.
I no longer know what it means to grow.
As I divide between my needs,
If the prism splits, will my spirit glow?
#saltfield#poetry#poem#writing#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#philosophy#severance#inspired#self reflection#or is it self refraction#a pun for those who read tags#which parts of me are real#existential
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Whosoever Listens
I guessed a name.
Their hands covered my eyes,
Fingers pressed my pupils dry,
As their laughter stole my heart.
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Fragile as it was...
A covered wagon set ablaze,
Wild horses free to graze.
Saddles now lay dormant.
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Which was I again?
A rider or the accessory?
Promise you'll graze with me,
Whether on bread or bit.
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Pouring out emotions.
To ghosts in my shadow,
I weep as the willow,
On a river I soon forget.
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Ideologue
Separatory funnels.
Vials of human emotion.
Blemishes drip in titration,
Until we are incomplete.
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Carbon-based deceit.
In time, all are neutral.
In time, we lose control.
Our vials run dry.
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Given time, we wait.
Thirsty for ideal solutions,
We are acid in the motions.
Dripping into a dissolving past.
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The Earth is our solvent.
For pretty corpses with no ideas.
Is it worth the fantasies,
To feed the dirt alone?
#saltfield#poetry#poem#writing#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#love#philosophy#relationships#love poem#i changed every time#have I always been wrong#mistakes
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Ghastly Cackles
Humankind in foreign words,
The language of manipulation.
Happiness is the quandary,
Queer to the disheveled herds.
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It's dedication like diamonds,
Everlasting, buried with the dross.
Placid waters set reflecting
Long dead astral curmudgeons.
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Channelized the reticent.
Gorged on gregarious angels.
Lambast those demonized fulcrums,
On the edge of social innocence.
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Derivative patterns befuddled me.
I granted entity to the ghast semblance,
Dribbling an embittered Deus,
To shoulders prescribed as mighty.
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To kill their god-king's shackles,
Joy was vowed to the pit.
The herds tumble on, ambivalent,
A savior bound to the ghastly cackles.
#saltfield#poetry#poem#writing#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#philosophy#relationships#social norms#social expectations#culture#metaphorical#heartbreak#disappointed
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Clemency
Diluted thoughts rain down,
From anxious clouds of contemplation,
Deluded though we are,
Wise in eyes; they're always ours.
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Serendipity and Soured Pity
You are made of light.
You were spoken, sang,
Breathed into being.
As the voice of colors,
Your soul is freeing.
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An apostrophe:
An omission of fault,
Living possession,
Like a single pure atom,
Across every dimension.
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Time and space
In minimal iotas.
Your words are eloquent,
Oh Daughter of the King
Buried in sediment.
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Forewent of glory.
Standing under shade,
Hidden like a lamp,
Beneath a basket,
You are the foot which stamped.
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As a cloud of shaken dust,
You breathed a fume,
Spoke like jabbering,
And coughed in colors,
To paint your clabbering.
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Soured pustule,
I burst with your dismay,
At revelation's time,
As we isolated few,
At our path's ends, climb.
#saltfield#poetry#poem#writing#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#love#philosophy#slippery slope#fallacy#mutual destruction#society#culture#division
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Wisp
Helical cirrus turbulence;
The irony of a lead-white brush stroke,
Weightless as an afternoon sigh,
Coiling across the endless sky.
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The Juniper's Botanical
Juniper freshness plots in bramble,
Hazelwood and hollyhock grasps his growth,
Whisper, oh meadow, your meanderings,
Where the scent of the fields wafts low.
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You're green and anxious, still digging down,
As Earth's moisture seeps into your roots,
Tell us a tale of the Taproot holidays,
Enrobed in the weeds of beauty.
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As canopy twists the heavens shut,
Feel beguiled in the soil's sweet offerings,
Of beetles and berries untaken by seed,
Juniper, your prickling soul sings.
#saltfield#poetry#poem#writing#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#philosophy#relationships
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