when love deals you a wild card

wings falter against vivid wind
the jester on the verge of becoming
faces shifting and morphing
feathers and hellfire
I do not know these shapes and colours
all I want is
the moist sensation of crumbled earth
in between my toes
like gentle fingers clasped in prayer
a reality through a reverse-prism
where light shines through
a single point of focus
where dust settles
and collects quietly
on the floor

Lag

Have I been profoundly and efficiently caffeinated
so that I function with an accelerated mental capacity
in which time slows down as I speed up?

Have I attained a higher form of consciousness,
achieved some level of nirvana, gained some supernatural abilities
in which time slows down as I speed up?

Have I entered the crux and flux of space-time
cracked the cosmic egg filled with mystical secrets
in which time slows down as I speed up?

OR, is it just that
my internet connection is goddamn

LAGGING

my attempts to dissect a phantom

my attempts to dissect
a phantom so far have been,
to say the least, in vain, yet
I persist, lest I desist, to indulge
myself with thoughts of
ludicrous potentiality–
as if desire alone will be
enough to bend, to alter,
the chain-links of reality;
no, I’m not one for metaphysics-
these rules and bounds
are too much for me, yet
I persist, lest I desist–
for anything is better than nothing
and I will do anything
for an answer

Planeterium

our existence is but a
tiny temporal dust
floating in the river of time
in which stars have breathed
their first and their last;

we belong to a single heartbeat
an endless cosmic dream
that we attempt to measure
with lifetimes—and we fail
for it is a dream too vast,
and too deep to be real

you stand, calmly

you stand, calmly
accosted, your long
obsidian hair concealing
that insidious twitch
of your mouth, which
could be anger, or amusement,
or both; either way,
you hoodwink yourself
out of this reality, and
I, deprived of meaning,
stand disjointed, motionless
and asunder