First froze the 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩,
When the 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘵 climbed too far.

Then was it scalded,
When the ¹horses came too close.

Of course,
Most people eschew mythology & learn only from reduced histories.

Similar situations such as this,
Like Climate Change,
We have lived through before as a species.
That much is plainly obvious.

The kicker is,
At least with what's left of those records,
There is an implication it was also from us.
From how ancestors of our treated Earth's ecology.

But also,
How the universe treated us.

There is no darkness.
I mean this symbolically,
But also quite literally.

There is light
Constantly all around you,
Flowing through you.

Spectrums you can see,
Spectrums you don't.
But are you able to?

Think nothing of water which percolates,
Liquid evaporates.
Such are the forms trapped within themselves,
Meaningless rotes.

By formlessness corporeal,
But with materiality intangible.

Forlorn immolation;
Condensates re-saturate, only different.
Incongruent crystallization;
And they say there is change!

By factors invariant,
But with sums nonconstant.

A laugh is a laugh, verbalized or written -
It's still the same fundamentally.
Tears are tears, dribbled or scribbled -
It's still the same in essentiality.

By elements unproposed,
But with totalities nonexistent.

Fission, fusion.
Derision after derision.
Creation, destruction.
Degredation after degredation.
Combination, seperation.
Decay after decay.

Fusion, fission.
Praise after praise.
Destruction, creation.
Amelioration after amelioration.
Splitting, collaboration.
Growth after growth.

I know only
That I know nothing!

You couldn't tell if I was crazy
If you were even any sane!
And you're not.
You couldn't tell if I was sane
If you weren't any crazier!
But you are!

Does it hurt your head to think?
Why, let it stop!
Does it hurt your chest to breathe?
Why, just quit it!

Soemone else can do that for you,
You can just take the credit!
For if the heart should ache
You're better off without it!

But serious-
The cloud tells the rain
What is & is not water.
Do the falling droplets care?
"What are these foreign definitions?"

The destination is the same,
Their own priorities remain,
And perspective is unchanged.

These strange properties,
Words themselves as elements
When strung together by sentence.
Is repentance within a reflection?
Redemption by sight through a drop of liquid?

What grippings within these pensions,
What potential within these tensions,
What whippings within these conventions.

By the accounts of every party attended,
What stern material has been cobbled.
Yet, poverty is worn stronger.
That which itself is as the weather,
I think it closer to trinkles
Than shine & twinkle.

What do the poor pour?
What do the bums toast?
What do the homeless shower?

A buddy of mine
Left really only notes.
Another was a rotten cheater.
I knew one that liked to play with guys,
Knew one that liked masks & needles.
Comes what? What goes? Who knows.

It can't be worse than before,
But that's not something you remember.
Of course, I mean, not someone you know.

Plenty, long - it is pitiful.
Is it never better than to taste of it?
Empty, numb - it is pitiful.
Is it naught that is more flavorful?

In the living glass of the universe
I am a liquid,
Drink the drink.
By the marsh like mixture of life,
Split the iris,
Eye to eye.
As the electric echo of an echo
Waves as expression,
I am a particle.

I am the light

By the gypsum rose grown.
I am the order borne out of the primordial.
In weaves & webs perennial,
I am the pyramid doubled.
By the barycenter offset zero,
I am without mass & weightless.
In the predeterminants of the hypermatrix,
I am a bolt of lightning and the thunder.
By the storm of the ocean struck,
I am a standing wave in motion.

Material and immaterial.

Anonymous, oblivious
To the person kneeling before me.
My head spinning,
Throbbing,
Weakness in the knees.
My heart racing,
Trembling,
Color flushing cheeks.
Darkness, heavy scents
Intoxicating.
Gripping the sheets

I like ****** the most
When they're quiet and know their worth.
Them being the only ones
To sell themselves out;
Set the rate yourself.
It'd be a shame
Living on your back
For but paltry wealth.
Small penance too,
For fleeting looks and fading health.
Not a profession with a pension,
Not a career with a penchant for happiness;
But if *******'s your passion
It's shorter lived in-person than on camera.

Rain makes me feel safe.
I’ve long found home in the storm...
Why can’t it just stay?