Privilege, has come of rage?
A succor, found bedlam...
Came and went, like an unified nation
Giving the truth, a bit of beauty's wisdom...

Guises in love, with a realm...
Of valor, the poise and waiting of simplicity
In the bells of the sky, a hunger, a health
Waiting on harmony's wish, a stir of implicitly...?

Harshness in a hash of destiny...
Set to reliant music, the toll of our secrets
Impugned totals, of decency come for a star's infinity...
Care is such; much of a timid could, asking about universal limits?

A light for synchronicity...
We wager is a scattered hope, the times to defeat devoidance
With the eyes, the purpose in love with a wakeful sleep...
Is reach in its fault, or its drama of poise that has avid chance?

Sweat of burden, instinct to liberate a hallowed shadow...?
In the decisions of ruling vice, with the grace of knowing meant
The voice of a proper patience, the tooth of remorse with ought's  how...
How is sincerity to avoid a clash, within the sphere of time and its letter?

Passion
In the stead we claim, is a reason to add the hill of pomposity
Quite an other; in the rage of seemliness was our only hope, integrity?
Of a quieter smile, in the name of entertaining a rational of reality?

Do we belong here, when the mind of antiquity was a revelation?
Like anarchy in succor's flames, a dragon of conscience
Has come of age, at whether liberty can be an intuition...
The power if not the privilege, of world's charm to imbue presence...

Angel's dancing on a pin...
Earthen stares, intellect forth a whisper of worth, no man
Without his eventual lip, is alone the works of redemption
In its way, is so, is go with a devoted **** of the fruit of the sun?

We watch consumed,
by how he swooned
and soothed, the world around them,
making everything happen.

A knight in shining armour,
the first one to see her.
Even in a slow burn
we know he will return.

So I sink into my seat,
waiting for it all to repeat.
But then it's over.
When they only just got together.

I wanted to see more.
The lifetime they swore,
with every mundane moment
and hint of enjoyment.

I don't want to realise
that it was all just romanticised,
and in actuality,
they were never meant to be.

The meet cute,
a perfectly scripted route.
The first date
that changed his heart rate,

in a destined fate,
that finally lifted the weight
off his shoulders,
now that he can hold hers.

All spontaneity,
a Hollywood reality.
Carefully constructed,
harmoniously corrupted.

In the business
of making a buck off the Mrs.
Forever exploiting,
the love that they're taunting.

The hopeless romantic
made cinematic,
Love turned perfect,
for the sake of a profit.

Breakups and heart ache,
every little mistake
changing their minds,
unsure if they'll find

the one.
But the film has begun,
and we can see, just how clearly
that they are meant to be.

From the first kiss
that was pure bliss.
And coffee shop barista,
who finally slipped a

note on his cup,
to use that stupid pick up
he's been rehearsing,
when he thinks nobody is watching.

The time he turned a blind
when she wrote a note for him to find,
left on the work-top,
and reading it made time stop.

When she searched through the crowd,
but it was all too loud,
and he was nowhere to be found,
until his arms wrapped around,

her waist from behind,
and all the stars aligned.

We watch consumed,
by how he swooned
and soothed, the world around them,
making everything happen.

A knight in shining armour,
the first one to see her.
So now, somehow without ever having it I miss,
everything the romcoms promise.

This movie of mine is ending,
And I don't want a sequel.
Just leave it here,
Let it be.
I'm finally in a good place again,
I think I'd like to stay.
So here's a cheers for good days,
Let's keep it that way.
        Hey!

She remembers
when the light
was filled
with silent ghosts.  
They would flicker in and out
in the cigarette smoke  
of the theater,  
each frame
an ashy wisp,
a burnt offering.
The story spooling out
in the air
was a familiar one.
The  sentiment
caught in her heart
and  made her cry.  
  
Years later,  
she went back,
after the smoke
was banned
and only the light
was permitted to filter.
The ghosts  
talked to her, now-
but it was no longer
a sacred thing.
There were profane words
and the noise hurt her ears.
In this night  light  
there were no  
familiar family faces.
Everything was clear,  
startling new and strange
and all the colors
too bright  for her eyes
to bear.
And it was then
she knew
she would die
in this nightmare dream.

You stayed awake
To make sure I'm okay
It made my heart shake
Now I won't sleep anyway

By knowing you
I thought I knew
Just everything
You'd ever do

I can picture you,
Eyes open wide
Just to don't go sleep
Just to say goodnight

We’re not in the movies

But when I look into your eyes I see blue and purple static

If I stare long enough I get lost in starless pools of deep blue

I could drown in them if you’d let me

I tell them to watch a movie- that one when the sun sets like aloe on their scalded skin, that one where after sunset, the guy kills himself. 

But I don't tell them that part, I simply lather the lotion thicker, suffocate their burn and boast about the healing powers of cinema I so humbly wish to share.

In honesty, there is little need for conviction as I so kindly spread love on their wound, proposing the perfect solution, a comforting press to the chest.

On condition, they are instructed to watch alone; travel to Ankara and snuggle beneath cloudy blue skies. They must take extra care. And under no circumstances should they tamper with the blooming blisters- they should let the summer breeze do all the work. 

They trust me, pathetically, even as the hours wane on, even as my waxy ointment melts to oily paraffin and slips far, far away from the wound. 

I doubt that they even notice, but I know that with five minutes to spare, all hope of healing will be held out of reach- especially as my soothing facade shatters beneath blinding strobes, as my fibs fade and salt sprinkles their skin with the promise of a permanent scar, fragile tissue that will surely wither with the sun for an eternity to come. 

The credits roll and so do the tears, until their cheeks are so stained, so branded with hollowness that all left to do is howl out for the end to near.

Now, they feel like I do, and we will suffer a lifetime of sorrow in unity. It makes me feel a little better.

/ Blade Running \

Making memories,
Wondering who sent for me,
If it wasn’t you then who was it,
& if you didn’t send for me then why are you here next to me,

Self preservation is the first law of nature,
From animal to human from human to machine,
Antisocial butterflies restlessly cramped in our cocoons,
Part plant part mineral part alien fully human being,

Sure we converse with other persons,
But we converse more with ChatGPT,
Hey AI I have a question,
Do ‘Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’,

Even Philip K ****,
Doesn’t know what the answer is to this mystery is,

Half man half nocturnal machine,
Half real life half diurnal dream,

Were we born or were we made maybe it’s the same thing,

Maybe there isn’t a difference or so it would seem,

“You don’t believe,
In miracles because you’ve never seen a miracle.”,
That’s why you’re willing to **** for a fee,
& why you’re always so sterile & cynical,

& maybe that’s why I write,
More than I do anything else,
As a way of trying to jog your memory,
While running up the bill,

At the bar trying to wash away,
Things that still affect me even though they can’t be totally recalled,
In this present day sci-fi anti-climactic dystopia like Arnold,
Call me Jack of All Trades & I’ll call you Jill of It All,

Getting drowsy,
Must be the pills,
On a plane,
On my way to somewhere else,

Travel so much,
Sometimes I wake up & don’t know what country I’m in,
It’s a dog eat dog world so cat naps can be dangerous,
Especially when you drink while sleep walking on Ambien,

A creature with amnesia & beautiful features,
How’d you become such a miracle,
Are you really that perfect,
Or is that just the way I remember you,

Guess it doesn’t matter either way,
Because maybe I don’t even remember you,
Maybe you’re not mine because maybe you never were,
Maybe nothing is mine not even the memories I have of you,

Maybe it’s all just programing,
Maybe we’re all just programs,
Programed to play our part,
In The Grand Program,

Programmed by the wizard behind the curtain,
Or by the woman behind the glass wall,
Maybe in the end we have the same thing we had in the beginning,
Which is absolutely nothing at all,

Maybe that’s why I’m making memories,
Wondering who sent for me,
If it wasn’t you then who was it,
& if you didn’t send for me then why are you here next to me,

Self preservation is the first law of nature,
From animal to human from human to machine,
Antisocial butterflies restlessly cramped in our cocoons,
Part plant part mineral part alien fully human being,

Sure we converse with other persons,
But we converse more with ChatGPT,
Hey AI I have a question,
Do ‘Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’,

Even Philip K ****,
Doesn’t know what the answer is to this mystery is…

∆ LaLux ∆

From ABC: The Beginning Of The End
Available worldwide on all platforms and in all mediums, Audiobook, Paperback, Digital, and Hardcover

quiet high summer nights
waving off mosquito bites
and lips so dry
the tap tastes like nectar
a glass shared is sweeter, better.
soda like opal in the moonlight
should we order in tonight?
leave the window open. though it's raining
this is our little love remaining