Scattered Pixels #2

Poems and Prose #154 - Bore

A paradox, perhaps,
blocks my passage
through the dirt,
the shovel stubbornly
refusing to pierce
the hardened earth.

Is this the deepest point,
or maybe
something worse:
that some digger
wearing my face
came and went here first?

Scattered Pixels #1

Poems and Prose #153 - Column

Preparing for the new year
in the middle of an old one,
I find myself frantically
searching my fridge for a cold one.

"Ah," I said, smiling,
as I reached out to hold one,
glad that I went to
my friend's house and stole one.

Poems and Prose #152 - Muzzle

Atavistic is
what they called him,
though they'd de-fanged
and declawed him.

Now his rage
comes off as maudlin;
I'm trying hard not
to reference Godwin...

Distorted Images #11

Poems and Prose #151 - Honed

His elegant wordplay
is a sleek, shiny shell,
quite unlike the dunce's hats
the others wear so well.

His brilliance lands him next
to The Bard on the groaning bookcase shelf,
and he knows his words are quite esteemed,
because he said so himself.

Poems and Prose #150 - Zee

Blacked out,
existence drizzles.
My eyelids flutter,
but my sight fizzles.

With no one there
to lend assistance,
I toe the cusp
of nonexistence.

Waking up,
my body granite,
I yearn for one
more breath, goddammit.

And as my
sentience returns,
I realize there'll be
nothing learned.

Poems and Prose #149 - NaN

A square root's inverse
peers into a negative void,
adhering to the rules as
they've always been deployed.

Empty space stands trembling,
while simultaneously poised,
embracing the invisibility
it's heretofore enjoyed.

Disjointed Images #10

Mental Blips #15 - Antennae

Cockroaches crawl by,
my food encased in Ziploc.
I make sure it's sealed.

Mental Blips #14 - Blotch

I unfurl my hand,
awaiting my recompense.
Bird droppings appear.

Disjointed Images #9

Poems and Prose #148 - Twine

Concurring with
his cognizance,
he nods his head
till somnolence.

Distant starlight
seeming ominous,
his sight lines up
with consciousness.

Disjointed Images #8

Poems and Prose #147 - Clasped

I stand, marooned,
awaiting the rescue
that's not coming soon.

Now I find my thoughts consumed
by whispery sounds and
pictures of doom.

Here, marooned,
powered by fumes,
I kneel and pray like a goddamn buffoon.

Disjointed Images #7

Poems and Prose #146 - Churn

Matter jitters
as it creeps through
the small intestine,
toward some foul
but necessary end.

A muffled voice
vibrates through
the walls,
surely speaking
about a very
important matter.

Disjointed Images #6

Disjointed Images #5

Disjointed Images #4

Poems and Prose #145 - Ember

Distracted by the
smoldering effigy,
I trip on a pothole
and bloody my knee,
strange anger brewing
to match what I see.

Disjointed Images #3

Disjointed Images #2

Disjointed Images #1

Inspired by a painting I saw recently.

Alien Landscapes #6

Poems and Prose #144 - Stanza

I don my binoculars
and lock eyes with the moon,
air, unhindered by trees,
playing a cold theremin tune.

I lower the device
and drop my gaze, too,
to focus more closely
on the empty space as it moves.

Poems and Prose #143 - Diffraction

Water falls,
rolls, runs, pools,
just like the masterminds
and just like the fools.
Beneath the surface,
iridescence blooms,
though it has no effect
on how liquid moves.

It does look quite breathtaking, though,
doesn't it?

Mental Blips #13 - Windex

The windshield's shit-stained,
I notice, the door creaking.
I slouch down lower.

Mental Blips #12 - Spoon

Muted thunder purrs
as I'm stirring my oatmeal.
Where's the damn sugar?

Poems and Prose #142 - Embroidery

The raindrop quivers
as it descends,
its molecules
being jostled
by the very air
it bends.

A transparent blade of grass,
this globule subtly spins,
an army with it marching,
remarkably,
just as a distant,
disembodied hand intends.

Poems and Prose #141 - Vapors

I grab a stick
and poke the bloated corpse,
foul stenches lingering.

The lack of reflex
reassures me that
I'm in this fog alone.

Frogs and crickets sing an aria,
and I extend my arm,
reaching for the nearest tree.

Poems and Prose #140 - Transparent

Everywhere,
I feel air,
against my skin,
against my hair,
behind me here
and over there,
prodding existential cares
baser than
the hows and wheres
that suffocate
when it's too spare
and spread like cancer
when it flares.

Poems and Prose #139 - Snorkel

Sucking air
through a straw,
I dangle
just beneath the surface,
reality morphed
by undulations.

My arms grow weak,
and the wavy moon
recedes into
a stage spangled
by stars,
but my lips
just barely tremble.

Poems and Prose #138 - Lithe

Agile feet make
agile legs,
so clever hairs
must make clever heads,
the loner thought,
on the edge of his bed.

Poems and Prose #137 - Sextant

Willing freely my success,
I consider what comes next,
so that I can choose what's best,
and allow weaker wills to have what's left.

Poems and Prose #136 - Ribboned

Absurdities accrue,
black transforming into blue,
then to black,
and back again to blue,
as I let the talking heads
tell me, one more time,
what's true.

Just here,
I feel a dent in my shoe,
and look down to see
a hardened mass of brown goo,
oddly, suddenly missing
the glistening of
this morning's dew.

Poems and Prose #135 - Face

Through the window,
moonlight blares,
along with haughty
glances and stares.

I pace the carpet
and poke at the air,
my inner mommy-dear
laid bare.

Surely it'll be better
just over there,
in a different room,
in a different chair.

Poems and Prose #134 - Ballet

Writing between
ever-widening lines,
the penman finds
his words pantomimed
by some devious fiend
from some long-ago time
that preceded the most recent
blink of his eyes.

He pores over the screed,
as does his shadow, in kind,
the ink marks seeming more and
more and more closely aligned.

Poems and Prose #133 - Albedo

I awaken in a
cold, darkened room.
Through the window,
the moon's half-face blooms.

I sense neither contentment
nor doom.
The sky's tint
will be altered soon.

Poems and Prose #132 - Volley

A traipse across the hill
leads the general to
an alternate-reality war,
where light smoke clouds
a boisterous, cheering crowd,
as he ducks behind a shrub,
hoping he slunk back
down in time,
before a bored, meandering glance
captures his position,
a surrender,
hoisted by wobbly knees,
sure to follow shortly.

Poems and Prose #131 - Proctor

I sat down to take
the religious test,
at my prospective
government's request,
and found myself answering
each question in jest,
but my arm grew tired,
so I circled C for the rest.

Poems and Prose #130 - Nimbus

The cloud's travails
are wispy and true,
gliding on the winds
our companion moon blew,
blanketing the ground
with a slightly shadowed hue,
an odd, eureka hand some
distant machination drew.

Alien Landscapes #5

Poems and Prose #129 - Point

Some future day
arrived,
and my mouth opened up
quite wide,
as fancy after fancy
swept in like a tide,
leaving me in this spot,
once again, to decide.

Poems and Prose #128 - Baroque

An alien landscape peeks back
from over the hill,
as I scale its rocky face
with hard-acquired skill.

Though my glove clenches stone,
it feels just barely real,
the sediments here seeming
more like passages than seals.