Jaie Miller

When the sky opens and enters black:

when the sky opens and enters black
into the cusp staring planets,
excuse themselves and deny responsibility
starving dreams religiously of sustenance
sustaining nightmares aimlessly greet
on the cross hairs of assassins glare
steady those compounds
the pressure is relentless tied to furious wings
that beat held onto by a chain...
the storms tore sanity through the hull
of hopes and dreams, those clouds will rot
as the winds revolt
denying Tuesday
in relation to a line, served the blinded gods call
they sent the maps to morose, my words captured the returned promise
not an option
gleaming indifference was the cause to suffer
a burnt offering
played the edge like erosion
science bequeath the night's eye upon constellations deny the turn
another turning around within the wheel, withering
with her when the wind speaks
a cause of sorrow, coarse analysis...intrepid glow follows me outside, from the bar
like limbo a task to purge victory
an oppressor's subject next , i had doubts that swam around on the concrete of absolution
we gave her the power, and she turned into a monster
we sung
then they stole the song, and burnt the tongue from the soil it had awoken
but the earth remembered, and when craters
were in fashion
we all outlined the difference.
this was told to you by the first
now thirsty
they set up
solitude to interrupt when
your logic disperses and dressed the myopic red
sages underestimated, the abacus to her stride
calculated steps carried us towards the distance and fear
revealed a valuable flaw in the reflection it never held
our teachers , our treacherous, those tomorrow will scorn
for us
the forest floor reached up and swore we were on the right track
this path I've allowed up the stream of my tears in a final lament..
your concern was willed gathering remnants of the shadow that eclipsed
the light we held on
our way through understanding, the door a jar
jeered us nearer retaliation
all of the constructed lines allowed the distraction to flow
distorted redemption
us as forgiving as the stain upon our silk sky ripped apart
i'm tempted to tear at the street and lie to the road side
step each indigo pattern in glowing frequencies,
we frequent seas as rivers that blend kinetic
curious microscopes lunge for a sample of the sweet sticky dripping
a mere swing of the emblem embedded in our fore thoughts
abstained from subtracting the aftermath
an exiled king swallows shame by opening a plague
door just enough as the might of her majesty.

Intense Machinations

cleverly fractured arguments form ideas among the surgeon: As value disappears, perhaps lingering too close for being owned as the weather. Clouds grace my drink. For the first time in the day I consider my carbon output then decide to sit down next to the window, for better view of th concrete. In turn, I inhale a better world. But find myself swimming against the current of the room. The air is 85% nonchalance. If I was to die now, conforming to a cycle, my energy would feed contradiction. Her voice echoes ever haunting my every crossword puzzle. Consonants form my stance against- celebrities. Constant sex. My every Ecstasy carefully placed on turntables without the middle. A somewhat warped stereotype; that I reach her facing East. Numbers pilled against worship ignoring space in order to reach conclusion. Intrusive ideas invade us like video games with more meaning. Collect pieces of fracture among the deformed ideals_Mutated sense survived the collision, all we owed left.

Consider the machination of his flesh; intense:how it coincides. Collisions against him and her existence; as leverage: Polarized:: Making etiquette a quiet distance. An acquired ordeal, is justice. All else files. An imagination pointing west; suggestive of profits with excess fat into opposite sex: Ideally_I do all the talking. Idle: I delete all fifths. Intense, as the machination of his flesh. How it collides is against all. Which (is) her. Existence. As covered, firstly.

Signatures revolve around appliance/Ink as applied/ appropriately fenced in orbit. Perhaps this, my next freight_ Distracted by the baby_ Exploited sense of remembrance. All else follows through the shaped sound of stained renditions like the third option: spoken from the point of view sharp enough to take a stab in the dark and draw blood from his hidden agenda. Like clockwork. Global laps around hunger, with bleach as incentive, we are all invited. Including terror from beyond the decimal in the scope. The disassociate behind a name comes clean as easy as soap. Stumbled upon a burial ground as though dowsing with practiced instruments. we play the souls of the dead. Building railroads through the forgotten trespasses of our purpose. Transposed against indigo, a glowing field, burnt by my best wishes to survive. this I've collected as a dance absorbed by my flesh mirrored in the path of teardrops. She catches. I'm thrown out of orbit, by degrees that couldn't raise the situation above temporal. In in stitches. Side stepped chords from tunes hummed to provide hope from despair. When the voice of God invades you and rapes your dreams past death. When Buddha is in the way. All else follows, or, numbers to bridges. Clouds to coal.

I might Just. If I could only--ask.
Imagine this space as us.
All else follows. All else flows in no logical fashion. My dreams react as shrapnel in the garbage of nothing - timed against the machinations I was born to strip into. Begging. Begging. Begging. Ignore the change they refuse to throw and collect the souls in their strides. Yes, we walk badly. Twice malfunctioned as a process before noon. Still searching for a more appropriate fracture to warn the doctor.

Discharge 4