There’s no more room!
Diminishing returns with each upload.
The discs are full, the drives implode.
Cables wear and coolant leaks,
with every second, many weeks
or months of film that oft repeats.
New photos of the same old views –
same dish, same flower, same reviews.
Opinions shared, and shared again,
formed long before, forgotten when.
Through haze of open war
and fallen worlds,
Persistent as the dreads of private past,
Hangs a blinking light. Shrouded,
demanding to be seen.
A protrusion, cold, dead, geometric,
Thrust from the light
In defiance of death and
In spite of the laws of life
long ago etched and written –
long ago burned and forgotten.
On edge of dry creek’s inlet,
A shadow plods on by –
The rider but a silhouette
against an orange sky.
His garments were in fading,
With tassels ready frayed,
Though none of this could quite be seen
amidst the coming shade.
For, blooming in the distance,
Was man and mount’s friend, one.
The only other living soul –
They called the setting sun.
Beneath, they watched in wonder,
And shed a straying tear,
As stars tore sky asunder
making them but disappear.
Through blackened mist
and sodden earth,
The crows above shall sing.
In tune with bones
And creaking lids-
Open, the coffins spring. Continue reading “Shadow Creatures”
The graveyard of ten thousand stones-
A maze to match the sky-
Was riddled with the blackened bones
Of centuries gone by.
The stones did reach to realms of dreams
As vines then grew in cracking seams,
But never, knew they why. Continue reading “Statue and Stone”
A wretched man
Atop grey walls,
Inside a hollowed room.
With holes in roof
The flooding rain
Hides views of tombstone bloom.
Continue reading “Machine of Flesh”
Passing through the glass, we moved
And watched through glorious eyes.
To see the beast in midst of feast
He cared not for us spies.
And once complete he looked our way
A grin from ear to ear,
Caught on the breeze he pounced at trees
To see our faces fear.
Continue reading “Jungle Yard”
A holiday,
Where families
from far and wide
can rest.
Their caravans
of precious goods,
Collected from
their quest.
Atop the swell they drift,
Splashing, and laughing of memories past.
Endurance knows no exhaustion.
As time drifts forever,
The monsters play below.
Continue reading “Endless Time”
J Best Books 