vore (day 159)

(via)

"...he still found himself confronted by a thing that outraged his reason; a thing that distorted the known face of the world with unearthly, hideous madness, and mingled a malign chaos with its ordered workings." --@KlarkashT

"...something darker hovered over their resignation, a ghoul of artistic inertia that seemed less the corollary of unfavorable circumstance than the furtive stranglehold of a curse."

"DYSTOPIA (Palindrome by Word)

Nowhere was truth less respected.

Gradually,
we humans,
under persisting uncertainty,
suffered.

We struggled.

We suffered uncertainty,
persisting under humans
we gradually respected less.

Truth was nowhere."

--@AnthonyEtherin

Ghorbat.

1.
painting the tree stump
with our second-best bomb
socialist teeth
Cocytus quakes

second-best bomb given
to the unholy western
walking on mown grass
to the place where i'll finish

2.
becoming a named storm
on the brink of furnished tarns
becoming ill while
visiting Santa

are we not drawn onward
silver as industry
hagoday rattle
walking on mown grass

there's just one more thing
waiting in the shadows
we were once one of you too
& a second-best bomb was good enough

3.
it seems to me my days are full
though moments drop & plant no cairn
nor any aftermath to share

it seems to me my days are full
i contemplate fast realms of gray
i measure where has flown the dove
it seems to me my days are full

though moments drop & plant no cairn

Della Cruscan poetry.

"glimmer of tea water
the north pole
the trail of a snail"

--@poem_exe

(@archillect)