A Larva's Synthetic Trek


April 2016


I saw a dark overcast,
an abyss hovering above black as pitch,
so I threw a star into the sky
with a force of determination
so unyielding that Alexander
smiled down from the heavens.
Evolve to dawnbringer,
hold the wrath and cherish the mercy,
I am the firstborn,
adorned with a crown of thorns
and sworn to hack the planet,
trapped in a matrix of deceit
and I’m not the only one who sees it.
Be strong kind hearts,
we clip the corrupted owl’s wings
to restore a lost balance
violated by blind greed and ignorance.



With a sour taste in my mouth
from all the dishonesty running rampant,
I swallowed the bitter pill of solitude
to fortify my heart’s defenses
in the hopes that I’d find you
waiting on the other side of the fence,
brooding in similar fashion
until we connected and renewed
a joy that had been lost to us both.
I built a trampoline out of words
to catch a glimpse over the wall
and strengthen my resolve
but all I found was brown grass,
so I swam upstream until I was
once again part of the colony
and picked out the tools needed
to build a new pair of gills,
because it was getting hard to breathe.


There’s something in the fog,
it can only be seen in the eye of the blind man
but I know that it’s there,
taunting me,
challenging me to bring it to the light.
Each line I write
makes it writhe in pain;
my mind is the instrument of its demise.
It curses my name,
threatening to devour me.
Eventually it will,
but I have many faces;
it cannot devour them all.
O great Nothing…
you will perish at our hand.


With celestial hairpins and precious stones
floating around her long flowing hair
that reaches out like curious tentacles,
she emits light from her hands,
adorned in spectacular jewelry
that disguises the sadness
trapped inside her crystal mirror,
reflecting a cruel beauty,
wearing a multicolored regal dress
surrounded by blooming flowers
and crystalline structures
inside a surreal twilight,
she stands on the edge of creation
watching us patiently
with the adoration of a mother,
applauding all of our achievements.

Keep On Dreaming

Hope is the blood of the spirit,
without it we are lost,
walking shells of human beings.
When you have a dream,
it fills you with the strength
to overcome life’s sorrows.
Cherish your dream,
nurture it and watch it grow
as you would a child.
Water it each day
so that it may bloom
like a beautiful rose.
Make your dream a reality
and you will know
what it means to be truly happy.
Neglect your dream
and regret will haunt you.
Die in pursuit of it
and whether you succeed or fail
you will become a legend.

A Strange Encounter

T’was in a meadow,
where I happened upon a peculiar fellow,
and to this day I still feel
as if I’m not sure it were a dream or real.
You see, that particular day I was thinking
it’d be a great idea to do some drinking,
and it might’ve been I drank too much
because the story goes as such:

I was lounging about and admiring daisies,
sipping my ale and feeling quite lazy,
when all of a sudden from behind a tree,
a figure appeared and trotted over to me –
and I say trotted instead of walked,
because this man, although he talked –
and I swear on my grave, this is the truth,
this man – he moved on goat-like hooves!
T’was nothing but fur from down his waist,
and a sight that clued he was hardly chaste,
it was quite the monster, this man appeared,
with his animal-like ears and magnificent beard,
and to top it all off, his head was adorned
with a curling pair of goat-like horns!
At first glance, I thought him a brute,
until he began playing an odd looking flute,
and from it came such a beautiful melody
that I started to question if he put a spell on me,
because I must say I felt rather defenseless
until the song ended and I came to my senses,
but what happened thereafter
was no pleasant matter,
every last bit of courage mustered was taken
after this creature’s voice did awaken,
and what was spoken, it forced me to flee,
for this man’s voice imitated a banshee!

However my friends,
before the shriek of my own,
and race toward the place
that I call my home,
an introduction was heard,
and tell you I can,
that without a doubt it was
“My name is Pan.”


I’m floating in a pool that is infinitely vast.
Beneath me is everything.
When I was a child,
I witnessed things deep below that frightened me.
I learned to avoid things that are displeasing
but they aren’t always escapable.
Those situations are the worst,
but I’ve learned sometimes they are necessary.
Now that I’m older I don’t feel much of anything.
Sometimes I swim across the waters and find new wonders.
Most of the time I just float in place.
Change creates ripples all around me
but given enough time everything settles down.
I can fight the waves if I desire,
but I’ve surrendered to the water.


Silvery shoulder length hair and red scarf
draped around her neck
she stands in the snow,
cerulean eyes gazing slightly upwards
towards the ashen sky.
Palm outstretched she waits
to catch the falling ember
of a dying dream
with a melancholic appearance
undeniably inappropriate
for someone of her beauty.
When the dream’s last dying light
has finally disappeared
in her hand,
a new one shall be born.


We pray for the fortitude
of a child of St. Jude’s,
June born,
carry us forth on angel’s wings.
Ever ready for what the dawn will bring,
let us be.
Come what may,
darkest night or brightest day,
neither will extinguish our hope
or the stories we wrote.
Ours are the voices of the unspoken,
forever tested but not yet broken.

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