The Sophist

2014-08-20 12:00 am

All that follows may be cheap.
A 'squito bite from a 'siah kiss
No mas, this mass a mess,
'Spose we're 'spose to say we're bless',
Well bless it ought to fess,
A feeling for a million fools,
Is wanton for a prince.
Yet elegant amiss,
Fools dancing on the Sun's drying lips,
As though it were a tryst,
Forcing Cosmos to a fit,
Perhaps the sun is but a tool,
Reflecting light,
Projecting an abyss,
Perhaps there's dimensions we can't see,
We dream beyond 3D,
Yet teach it in our school,
Rest inside to silence screams,
Our origins never will be seen,
Although it would be cool,
All that follows may be cheap.

The Sophist

2014-08-07 12:00 am

Wave functions collapse,
Pitch blackens attack,
There's pressure in here,
Still, floating, relaxed.
Motion an act,
Motionless shadows expand.
World is but a Starship 3000,
Stand still with inertia intact.
All purpose for this study is incredibly wack yo.

The Sophist

2014-07-10 12:00 am

I'm not mad,
Or blinded by infinity,
I want the moon,
As I saw in my epiphany,
That's all.

The Sophist

2014-06-18 12:00 am

Abeyant for the fall of man,
Obeyant utilitarian,
To be killed by robot tanks,
Brought to life and killed again.

To turn the world into a sun,
Instead I'll long to own the moon,
No muse but she, the only one,
Her darkness tears my skin of gloom.

Bottled pride,
A drunk misuse,
Beauty whore'd out to the masses,
All could be in bliss without,
Fragile multitudes,
No doubt, 
My love is better glass-less.