Passing Fictions

(mostly) unedited.

07-11-2017

"Impracticable!". The disdain in her voice directed at no-one-in-particular scarcely concealed twenty-five years of embittered love, disgust and depraved desire for the quality in which her father would revel, night after night of a childhood relived.

"Oh, I wouldn't even know where to start..." was enough to send her Mother into another frenzy. One pleasant evening after another in succession afforded Piedro Filosofale the comfort of reading this or that curiosity undisturbed in his favourite divan, close yet far from the neighboring industrious enterprise of scrubbing pots, bawling infants and good-natured sighs.

Only one thing could rouse her more violently from sweat-stained dreams---an itinerant fear of clumsily tripping, only to smash the rose and lavender stain glassed windows, the same so lovingly chosen by her Mother on the fortnight of a half-remembered wedding many lives ago.

Just so she would tumble through the rest of her life, unknowingly shutting every door against which the silhouette of that life chanced to glance by. Just so she would fall into an ever-tapering abyss, little knowing that her own sweaty palms severed the flow of breath and life she so desperately gasped for, dream after dream.

23-07-2016

Two paths diverged in a burning wood,
and I,
I let the flames run high and with a burning sigh
passed from where I stood
two narratives diverged as far as they could
and I,
I turned towards neither nor away from either
until lost in the next wilderness I stood

22-08-2014

How far have flown those light bodied birds
Born of summer-balmed lust and vengeful hope
Transient shapes cresting seasonal winds
Laced with the cloudless dreams of unspent youth

Here you'll find calls against the clear skies,
The jesting mirth of the jaded mallard;
Of the intrepid ibis' insightful proof;
The rich harvest of the hardworking heron;
The ruffled plumage of the lovebird's coup

No matter the bird, summer ends stirring
A tempestuous migration of itinerant youth
Time again to while the hours away crafting
Resolutions to lose to the next season's truth

07-08-2014

We leap into each other's lives
each lunge a protracted light
blade refracting, bending sight
obscuring past myths, even connives
to pool hope into a false promise
long-forgotten in some blight
Yet what choice, but to play with light?
Rather a false color
than darkness' plight

04-08-2014

In passing time's indissoluble flood
It was but a drop of an afternoon
Some skirmish seeking material means
Met with an ebbing soul's ghastly loom
With not a sketch of a smile the young thing
No older than the one shadowing me
(named brother by ovarian lottery)
Intones with empty eyes; vivacity's
Lack; "some money, for food, I beg you, please"
The dramatic in me caves, appearing black,
Screams; the critic steadies, sense yields serene
Visceral subterranean caves, I
Plunge headlong into a rushing river
Excess, hoarding, flooded away we are
Swept, disgrace drenching our tattered grasp of
A dangling thread's frayed faith for the human race
In a deluge, I hand him a bill
(from mother)
An intended purchase of some passing fad
Buys the stammering of this passing lad
Thank you, good bye, bowing, he says god bless
I am a stutter, head nodding, distress
Avoid the ardent gaze; those eyes a mess

No use.

Of this torrent, only now have I spoken
Perhaps that is why, many years hence I
Am again awash, again awoken
By the depths of the tides hidden in eyes
Receding, revealing so much left broken

31-07-2014

Mere minutes from white swollen froth's
mid-morning turbulence of a marriage
between south Atlantic and Indian Sea,
stray mists dance to amber rays
of cold light's struggle against the panes'
framed tears to a wooden soliloquy
Outside the window wind the sprawling lanes
while I choose to wend inward, seemingly lost
to a wondrous walk free of winter rains
accompanied by Fulton, Harris and Frost
our path a pencil-sketched curiosity

21-07-2014

Blameless, revolving, the earth inherits
The earth; its boundless children without merit
Nameless, let fall through fingers the mantle
Of ancestral iniquity; aimless they ferret
Out fuel to flame their desire, a charred earth
Blameless, revolving, in time soon forgotten

18-17-2014

Here they come! Cast off the horizon
in an outpouring of undulous cloud
dragging driftwood over cobalt ocean
travelers nameless yet known, graceless
crowding subject to current-carved
orbit, gravitational groove
forming fractal pathways
dictating every move
mired in periodic pilgrimage
broken memory soothes
an unwilling prostration:
movement to an unseen moon
In ceremonial wake
this unconscious ocean
breeds a maddening mope
porous patterning in spiral
maelstrom's siphoning of hope
the few with open eyes in commotion
with haste, panic, splash and grope
to a clashing of storm clouds
a clamor precipitates
violence traversing each trope

14-07-2014

I trip and fall into your eyes
a sinewy descent dreamt down
gorges lined in gnats and flies
agape, a rushing nadir grapples
hordes of monstrous sepulchral
beasts in burden, each shackles
the gaze; mesmerizes the eye
seduces the mind with a lie
so simple as to wind up
questioning the reason why
I am a beast unburdened;
shackles loosened
mind unquestioning
a murder in foreign motion
My leathern lies spread wings
birthing flight
out of your eyes, it seems
come dark notions

12-07-2014

Sonorous I sing
my swift drooping
as a lone leaf
arcing and swooping
sounding a deep
mellifluous looping
only to land a light heap
amidst
downy meadows of sleep

11-07-2014

oh, we cut the old gods down
with axes of need and round
eyes of steel we took our time
and with all our pride
moved the second hand forward
look, we did it for our beloved
and for our love we made
ourselves known; with shrieks
and bellows we obliterate old
hallows in a story to save our own
now, we are the ones who are holy
waiting in line for the minute hand
sign to herald a wholly new order
so, we wait out our time
(having lost all our kind to a new god's shrine)
begging for death by the hour

10-07-2014

Gripped in a latent tide so burning
I lay still while tossing and turning
And So once taught a lover
“To love is to teach” To light a way,
And in this way beseech
Her own lambent
Loving
Pathway to reach
Yet however deep in trust of
Beauty and rhyme
I wade as unsure of
Her way as mine

07-07-2014

Let’s watch hamsters spin wheels in little cages
Next to toy men working weeks for their wages
telling tales of a breadcrumb trail's
march to the ages

For a home is what is to heal the disease
Of a tortured life lived alone so please
Don’t forget that stable shrine; That ages’s tome
That grand old story of living with one’s own

Never so strong a call I’ve known
To build a palace of play; to roam
through time in rhythmic tone
in resonance herald in harmony
my home

05-07-2014

That nether day
with upside down
I’s
He proclaimed
He was living
Life all alone
with his w?fe

04-06-2014

After the tide falls slack
and the beating sun sucks
the teardrops we call ocean
back into its bleeding eye
There remains in that vast chasm
an invariance;
a skeletal symmetry running
slivers through the very breath
you take in reading these lines

04-06-2014

At the appointed time
After caressing that soft sun
Stand back; watch it rise
Appreciate with pounding heart
If necessary, with closed eyes

Don’t forget; don’t hold on
Let it rise
Those dreams; those fantasies
All lies
Once more
Let it rise

To a darker shade, now,
turn back time
Fall back; unravel the knot
Unwind in labyrinthine line

01-07-2014

Where are we, one wonders
Winding over wet floors
Searching through that mystic rain
cast free from cavalcade’s doors

Enriched by wading through wisdom’s smile
Glinting through age’s passing fire
Lighting passage til the morn

We must not forget
The relative turning
Over the masters smile
To that most sinister burning
Of embered heart left forelorn

29-06-2014

Why wed these swollen weeping words?
One brutally enforced alliance following
another mechanical stunted outgrowth
of ardent flaming vitriol

why dive these black oceans?
What voice demands vibration
amidst sounds so sharp
as to singe the lashes
of yet another innocent’s eyes

Perhaps for the same reason that a mother
In choking fits and violet screams
Births by violent brush-stroke
Love for her stillborn son

28-06-2014

Between blades shouldering sheer cliff face
roar tongue-torn rapids tearing in place
flooding storm eyes beholden to a riverbed
hiding time’s buried lives; stories unsaid
Such are Nature’s sighs upon each soul waylaid
So I offer up these lines as praise in their stead

26-06-2014

It starts with an aromatic whisp of sumac and mace
before laying light lines of lips on nape
only to end caressing a small crying face
So ends the beginning: with a taste for tears
While lips carve caresses on lobes of ears
Leaving hollow caverns we’ll fill with the years

25-06-2014

You fall in love with her
Without time or feeling
A faint struggle forming
in face of strong appealing
soft symmetric calling
roaring resonant reeling
Easy now, wander its words,
a crowd of characters revealing
lack of reason; a letting go
a flowing dance of healing

17-06-2014

We sit smiling at the mirrored pond
Every implement abandoned save faith
The water's second smile sighing
While we wait time into a corner
Beat it with our hate
Wrest another smile from
its folded undulating face

So we wait
While mirrored water rends, tearing,
raining from a face
Suspended above a second sky
mouth agape

Once more time's wish-washing,
Once more time's late
We've lost time to a twisted corner
(Time in turn's lost us again)

Let us not forget the wait
Nor forget smiling, nor fate
Hurry up dear, I'm waiting
We're going to be late

15-06-2014

I'd like to share with you
a certain afternoon seeming
in rich cacophony of
circular sounds sweeping
stop motion / the carved figure
blithely singing
rhyming and ringing
in sonorous cascade

silhouette and shadow
cradle a cream fountain
framed in hot dust
here uncertain heart
beats in dolorous tempo
seated in sanctuary

darling I'll be needing
a kind lyrical laughter's
passionate screaming
don't mind me, I'm just dreaming
drunk diaphanous decibels
proudly proclaiming a paean
for the Barcelona summer day

08-06-2014

There you find her
back to shingled sloping roof
almost-tired eyes cutting wide berth
calling forth tales
of cyclic-symmetric
celestial communion

the dusk frames her floating fury
highlighted pitted dream-drops
suspend the frozen night air
distilled in vaporous vitriol
she cries cold cumulus clouds

to think the scene is still wet in mind
I'm a drunken deluge
scarred by colored wake
traveling across brittle canvas

I remember

how sickly shallow sirens
sensually blot curved surfaces
how triangular tornados trace
veins in watercolor tributary
how a bloom so venomous
bursts forth into infinite fingers
devoting time to searching space

per chance one day I met her
dreaming
letting lavender pearls
accumulate lightly in cumulus
lulled by lilting evening lilac
loops laughing through dusk
lamenting the dawn

The rest is forgotten

06-06-2014

Such sweet-n-sour sorely missed insight
watch midnight strike our couple's fight

She lay with (not him) while
he harbors anger for (her, but switch)
the one sulking a third-party glance
a sallow shrine to death's sunken stance

The horse walked off with the wagon
so they would say
(What do I know of times gone by?)

If only we knew

What we have are wondrous wingbeats
titillating turquoise vibration frought
by feathered filtration in rhyme

Watch the distraught hummingbird
weave melody with time

??-??-????

Raeez is an (infrequently) conscious agent with lossy state composed of a painful superposition of mutually incomprehensible narratives simultaneously undergoing chaotic time-evolution.

Until recently his spatial probability distribution was localized in that region of North America commonly denoted Cambridge (pronounced ˈkām-brij) in Massachusetts. This spatial mode has since undergone rapid decoherence; the ensuing time-evolution flow appears to exhibit multiple highly correlated pseudo-stable modes.

He—or someone he used to be—has spilled a questionably coherent trail of curiosities. If you believe in form: writing, code, tweets, videos, and photography. If you don't, well done.
Should you find the above off-putting it is suggested you find, steal or purchase a sense of humour;
alternatively, spend time reading books published by Springer (or similar corporation) sporting greek symbols wedged between words crafted by those who make it their profession to be as esoteric as possible.

Of course, this is all done artfully.

Social protocol necessitates the serving of a dish more seasoned to taste.