A Misfit Among Misfits - Writing In The Burroughs

Sitting at my desk
On that digital typewriter
Typing away with furor
Overcome by sexual vigor
Penetrating from verbal to visual
Hoping for ekphrasis
But coming back to see
My theory was not in practice
Yet that device screams aloud
And suddenly a birth comes
Gasping and twitching grotesquely
Wishing for sweet release
It still asks for more
I am an agent so I must comply
I go on for another while
Sweating from the process
Each time the same occurs
More disfigured than before
It yells and my ears bleed
But it grabs me, commanding to continue
Years have gone by with this routine
The machine’s cries has not deafened
One day soon it will give out
Something that won’t ask to be never born

Freiwerk Nonanarratives - Fading Into The Fog

A Misift Among Misfits - Dust

Twirling, spinning
Particles in the air
Guided, blindsided
By gusts of wind
Holding, folding
Layers of filth
Snided, derided
As they rest for a while
Chaotic, neurotic
Once they build up in mass
Filthy, silky
Forming into bunnies
Psychotic, idiotic
While they hop all around
Messy, unhealthy
The scene of modern life

A Misfit Among Misfits - Getting To The Other Coast

I was out on the shore
Looking afar to the other coast
I thought I could get there
Just by going in for a swim
Little would I know
What the sea had in store for me
For as soon as I got in the water
A wave started to build

It wasn’t so bad at first
The wave was small and soft
I trudged on through the sea
Hoping to get to that coast
But then that wave grew
And it knocked me back a bit
Still I went along
Knowing where I wanted to go

As I went swimming
I saw behind no trace of land
And it seemed the other coast
Was more distant than I thought
Each wave came along
And they only grew larger
I wondered if really
It was worth it to keep going

Swimming some more
I saw schools of fish galore
Dolphins playing together
And boats where parties were thrown
I was set on that coast
For that was the only thing in mind
The only part tangible
To the abilities I had

Yet those waves struck me so strong
So violent in their energy
They only grew in size
Taking apart my strength
I wondered why I swam
Why was I so set to get there
I wasn’t sure if it was possible
Or what I was gaining in my efforts

That coast faded from my eyes
It was so foolish to think I would reach
I was already in the water now
Nothing else I could do anymore
I kept on though I was tired
Having not seen myself in so long
I had to keep on going
It only makes sense

But the waves, oh the waves
They just wouldn’t let up
From huge to giant to grand
To gargantuan and titanic
They took me and they threw me
My bearings ran amok
Where was I going at this point
Was that coast even there at all

The worst was one cataclysm
Where the wave eclipsed the sky
It engulfed me into the water
Whereupon I nearly drowned
I felt something crawl down my throat
It was round and small and bitter
I also felt my own hand on my head
Pushing me further down

Only until it all was done
Could I look upon the sea so calm
I was lost, that much I knew
And that’s what I still know
For I think I still am at that sea
Wondering where that coast will be
And fearing the coming waves
And what those will do to me

Freiwerk Nonanarratives - Czei Na

A Misfit Among Misfits - Eloquence

Signifier of the sophisticate
Yearned by artists, peasants, the like
They who hold it are in great reverence
Adored to all eternity

But in those words and phrases
Which extend to the ends of time
There is no sense of incline
All remains on a plateau

For no matter how complex
No word’s might supersedes the cosmos
The only term which holds that power
Is that which is indescribable

It’s not to say to one’s prose
Should not stand to be more ultra
Violet is the essential ink
Which paints a thousand scenes

Rather if one cannot accrue
The dictionary as a whole
A lowly is not merited
No more a high one to a wordy fool

A Misfit Among Misfits - Entering The Rose Cavern

Galleries crowded with patrons
Silence of contemplation lost
Visuals inspiring yet impassionate
Leaving pretentious moue
No room left with space
No artwork without million eyes
Should be expected as so
Yet grating all the same
For without reflection
The gallery is merely streets
With colors and shapes irrelevant
To purposes of which one traverses them
Sudden muted trumpets croon
Regarding a funny valentine
Investigation leads down the hall
To an exhibit of a rose cavern
There inside lies a mirror
In the mirror a man stands
He’s more straight than limp though
But nonetheless strange in form
His beard matching dark forests
His shirts plaid and drab
His eyes peering forward
With only pensive soulful thoughts
The mirror’s tint is green
Yet the man’s color is lavender
Contrast to his lover beside him
Whose as the mirror intends to be
Also present on the man
Stripes yellow, blue and red
With white blots gleaming brightly
All blending into his face
His lover brings him for romance
Lips locking with his colors fading
For nine minutes they were entangled
Each one making his colors normal
With him devoid of any reason
No explanation of his colors
Watching the scene in glass realms
Seeing none in terms of sense
Behind them a sculpture
Phallic and yonic
Curling into itself with each note
Of both the melody within
And the passion in front
Anger still stayed from the confusion
Of what became of the colors before
But now was erotic displays
Forbidden by impenetrable windows
Only could be seen were forceful reflections
Plaguing in their prominence
No more could witness be bore
To actions inaccessible yet tantalizing
Now in a red-violet room
Only music pierces souls
Mirrors are standard without tint
And the noise within is now without
It was rare to enter the rose cavern
To be brought to the lavender man now green
And what horror was come to be
When standard mirrors showed him back
Alone and staring pensively