Cyphering Motifs


Colors vibrate the spectrum

causing shifts through the phases

leaving only bright reflections

of intimations in its wake

forging ripples in the grand pond

of the universe whose waves

slap against the shores

of consciousness creating

mandelbrots spiraling forever

outward yet snuggly held within

the golden ratio as it gambols

amongst the magical Circle of Fifths

Image by Hermann Traub from Pixabay

‘Incomplete Particoat’


What cerulean light through yonder window breaks?

For it doth burn mine eyes so true

Have the slumbers of my distracted globe lingered opaque

For the world to colour itself so blue?

While palls of Indigo dim the hearts bitter ache

Ought shadows not illuminate our ravin point of view?

Image by Ein Kaffee kostet mehr als € 0.55! from Pixabay

Faustian Liturgies


Footsteps lingered in the threads of the carpeting

As the sound of your voice echoes back from the walls

Fingernails scratched into the wood of the moulding

When invocations mingled amongst the outer squalls

Patterns forged from shards of decorative pargeting

While the ropes bite deeper when the victim crawls

Where visions of monsters lie within the beholding

Bitter the poison on the tongue that it scalds

The grinding of steel while it is sharpening

Ever louder, the darkness calls

Image by sebastian del val from Pixabay

Lovely Girl, Lonely Girl


Lovely girl sitting on her swing, swing, swing…

Dark hair shadows her face like string, string, string.


Her feet kick out and she goes high, high, high…

Faster and faster, into the night sky, sky, sky.


Softly, she whispers about a hole, hole, hole…

Where she should have had a soul, soul, soul.


Her deadened eyes stare into mine, mine, mine…

Something about her brings about the shine, shine, shine.


Around her mutters, with your soul I would be complete, eat, eat…

With those words, I beat a hasty retreat, treat, treat.


But who knew that lonely girls could float, float, float.

I felt her cold fingers around my throat, throat, throat…


As I fade away, I feel her kiss, kiss, kiss.

Her bony hand takes mine into the abyss, abyss, abyss…


The lovely girl was just skin and bone, bone, bone…

The lonely girl is no longer alone, alone, alone.

Throb go the Heartstrings


Blood swirls through

from the heart to your veins

Only to cycle afresh and anew.


Its sanguine scent

while heady and sweet

colors scarlet the bitter brew.


Risen by the call

of your heart’s heavy beat

and the splash of tears you’ve let slip.


Returned, I have

though my spectral presence

lades your soul with dread.


While it may be

that I am no more

Romance itself is never dead.

Image by Oliana Gruzdeva from Pixabay