His liminal-subliminal-superliminal sublimation of ideas in the lumen of his mind sent

cravings cross his dandelion heart

no abstract ideation in the lettering of his diary came through

but in the end his girl knew that they two had the left-handed gestures of pattycake pattycake

tossing the baby in the bathtub

drowning the noise in the light

and cleansing the distrust with candlelit vigils

it’s hard to say why they moved on but there were reasons

And the others knew them too well to say much more

much less than one another, the candles slowly waned

the space for their thoughts collapsed

and the lettering caught fire

it was an askance betrayal of love

not lust

they made clear of that

but in the morning when I see their faces on my mirror

I know that they love their family very much

and that is that

Dalliance – Word of the Day Challenge — Cyranny’s Cove

Dalliance with a Cult

I won’t stray this time

The dalliance with the cult was more than enough

To fill my cup

Notwithstanding that the cup now has a cult symbol on it

I drink from it still

But my beverages now have an odd Satanic taste

That I can’t quite describe

But I digress

I won’t stray

No more intermingling with members of a cult

No more quaint discussions with worshippers of the dark divine

I’ve had my fill

This encounter has lasted long enough

Notwithstanding that they made me pay an exit fee

Very bureaucratic, these cultists

Surprisingly so

And in any case, I don’t really see the interest

In worshipping demons whose names I can’t pronounce

They said I would never be able to summon one unless

I could force the words correctly

So much for that transparent hope

Well it’s time for me to go

I think I’ve had enough

The lasting memento: A nice little tat on my ass

Of a peasant being sworded

How crass





Today’s Word of the Day is Dalliance. If you want to participate create a pingback to link your post. Not sure how to do that? See how to create pingbacks here. . via Dalliance — Word of the Day Challenge

via Dalliance – Word of the Day Challenge — Cyranny’s Cove

Drained Along the Way to Bastion

When winter’s spell is all that’s in your heart

Do you start?

A ruckus brews and I see beyond the horizon

The decrepit crew-cut skyscraper skyline of the city

Dripping in oil and fatigue

I, restless, stumble along its imagined streets

Placed by architecture indoors, outdoors

Sleeping against the streetlamps

And nodding to myself

Yes, this is the way

To the door, I fell and then

There was nothing


So I am haunted

But little breaks without winding

Drawn like cracks in my skin

I relieve the dryness with a bastion

A bastion for me

And sing to the mindset that someday

Someday things will be different

9:27 PM

At 9:27 PM

Do the doors break?

Does your mind rupture inward?

Do willows shirk and cry?

Pitiful, how they go

Do you know?

What happens at this time?

Is the lesson in the dime?

Is there a riddle at the end of the tunnel?

Do swallows sway and croak in despair?

Is the air thick with the musk of an old ladder

In the side yard, forgotten?

How long has it been back there, anyway?

Do you grow older

Discretely, punctately, precisely at 9:27 PM?

How does it go?

What is the saying?

The young die fast and the old grow–

What is it–

Pruney tomatoes in the yard?


And the motivation leaves me

Like the wind out the window

And we are distilled to our elements

Awaiting panacea, catharsis

I hold in my arms the reprieve we left

On that isle of fate

For a journey for journey’s sake

And it’s limited in notion

Scaled in scope

Too romantic a hope to gander at the splinter in between

My mind and your spirit

Entwined like ivy around the tree

Its mettle shan’t be broken

Verily staid or overlooked, its mettle shan’t be broken


In the reader

In the film





Never married

Always a wanderer.

Craven at heart, flight of the gull or

Crow. Halfling to boot, couldn’t kid em out of the cove

Too good

For good.

Wonderment and display of madness.

All aloft,

All gentle

When does the rising sun twiddle its thumbs

If it forgets its neighbors.

Please Speak Up

Unwritten love

Lace me with your tenderness

Regret not that I fell from you

And understand the bitterness of heart that might turn to Asphodel for solace

I am immortal

I am a sin

And the rest of the story comes and goes without trough

It is the disdain that gets me

And I obsess over forgetting

One who does not forget does not want to remember

Does not remember to stand tall

And forever bequeath the beast of memory to his family

Undying yet resplendent with despair

It is a tall tail

And I will go forth

Until ribbons fall from the sky

Do tell, do little but do tell

And we will be victorious



Blowing forth

The bubble

The bauble

The tenderest of touches

I hiss at the thought

Do what I’m taught

To forget

To remember

To tremble in fear

And never be near

By my side, I want

And take and grab

And the gaggle stabs at my throat

It is too rich


Sway, tender

And hit and run

And never come back again