THE HUMAN HEART A POLISHED MINERAL

 by Shaun Lawton 

Foraging in the weeds for acorns

uncovered a sword whose stolen length spanned
a limb for which it was taken;
costing an arm to the one

to whom it was handed down,
while denying triumph to
the keepers of both hands.


I think I understand your point well sir just don't forget that 

in the legend the pure of heart are given credit in the moonlight.

 

Better get moving.
See that pretty city scape.
Encroaching from the horizon.
Getting closer every time you look.


Just let it all go.
What do you smell down this alleyway.
Now that its late.
As the stars burn and scream into the atmosphere.

Of darkness let the rays
cast down be reminders
illumination may also
come from the damned.

Neptune
(13 moons: Triton, Nereid, Larissa, 

Naiad, Thalassa, Despina, Galatea, 

Proteus, Halimede, Sao, Psamathe, 

Laomedeia, Neso)

Centaurs.

You may pass through my woodlot, but be warned. 

This is my domain, and I may exact retribution if you fail to respect it.

He was on a journey to the well of sadness
for there he'd heard an echo of a tale which
whispered on the unfamiliar wind of a clearing
a deadbeat trance on the railroad tracks singing
in that shrill metal scream diminishing

Anise water
if the weather's
nice otherwise
freeze a frown
in a bucket of ice.

Alabaster swarms nestled under. 

Head full of sea kelp starring lights.

A bundle of tree roots bled in the dark. 

One bloody femur shaped like a foot.

There's evidence to suggest this singularity keeps repeating 

its programming in a never ending loop of such gradually 

decaying simulation that the differentials spawned grow 

not into yet more shed ghosts of future developments 

but rather constantly shape and mold the singular 

only possible existence here frozen in eternity 

and possessed by the illusion 

of constant movement 

to the point that even 

in our resting state 

of deep sleep 

every night 

occurring with

metronomic 

persistence 

we are unable 

to really wake up 

from our conditioning 

to realize this motion just

conducts us into dreaming.

Who benefits besides corporations.
We must ask ourselves these questions.
Can a building be hijacked.
Can a dark meme of humanity go viral.
Can a species go extinct.
It all depends on what you think.

Words are the new pet rocks. 

 You don't even have to paint eyes on them. 

 And they appear veritably, virtually, visibly on all of our d-Vices. 

 I'm going fishing in the real world now. 

My words and poems are just the shiny bait. 

 Just you wait. Set your iWatch on it. 

To be hooked and reeled in. 

 Bookworms of the world, take note.

We're going fishing...