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I saw you beyond the outer reach

where the darkness lingers

amidst undercurrents 

that trade and enslave


moments gathered in time

tender notions to sooth the soul

in the bittersweet tensions

of yesteryear


broad strokes of accomplishment

together in time

a certain future painted

in the red and black of estrangement


a merry-go-round to tail

the chase

and chase the ‘tale’

a modern day Schindler’s List

of tacit agreements


the tenets of ‘prose’

boundless and open

the spaces between


in multi-faceted mysteries of mind


pieces of me

pieces of you


out of line


a kaleidoscope of vinaigrettes

fictional slights of hand 

to mesmerize, delay 

and entice


a transfer of 

‘food’ for thought

to engage and enrage

you colored outside the lines



blighting fields of inquiry

with rootless explanations

the deviations 


with meaning



reframed, distortions, 

the borders of reality

blurred and broken


the deviations remained

  By Mary M. Park et al.

the sands are shifting

swift and certain

in a timeless swirl


echoing the past along the silent corridors

of indecision

where the future sways 


the tides of time speak eternal

scattering whispers across the sand and into the ocean breeze

where they glimmer with promise and expectation


one by one the grains spill 

from reckless fists

that have known no bounds

until our skin grows calloused and worn


the tide is coming in

I can hear its murmured promises

Dancing across the sand

the past and future are illusions

only the moments are real


weighted treasons

tumble then fall

from faulty foundations...


spill in and onto our paths

we are waylaid  

by another's


in the sensual notion of your eyes

my ascension filigreed and paved

within your alter ego

a deliverance of sight and sound

an inclination

whose bond surpasses the depths

of forevermore


upon the cusp of eternity

shining phosphorescence

a troubadour of the ages

his splinters seed a renaissance


a gathering of warriors in absentia

to humble the mightiest of men

their transgressions a bloodied suit 

downcast eyes


failing foresight no remedy

beyond continuance

the robes of justice seek only

artificial truth


the ghosts of yesteryear have

come to haunt their chambers

and whilst they tender favor

to the powerful and haughty

the swords of commoners have

drawn nigh 


                integrity laid bare

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