TRANSFORMER 33

 the dysmorphological unification 

of the algorithmic insistence 

 to pick out patterns 

  not from what the human eye focuses on 

 but rather what the camera  has captured 

from its unblinking stare 

 that surveys the panopticon 

  may reduce visual stimuli to a potpourri 

 of pulpy bull dogged abstractions 

lending cohesion to a narrative 

 picked out of the random chaos 

  of association in direct proximity

 

 to the bloody drool flowing down 

the broken rose stem 

 stuck in the gaping maw of the leviathan

  cellular walls thicken 

 being built from particulate matter 

drawn from the void and whose folding 

 concatenations provide egress 

  to the sudden multiplicities 

 of congregating civilizations 

momentarily extracted 

 from the decanting of the atomic nuclei 

  that conducts the unfolding symphony 

 into its arrayed pocket jungles thriving 

at the tangled roots of the bifurcating trees

 as the glowing river flows 

out of the mountain 

  it reflects the bonfires burned in honor 

 of the constellations above

the night remains timeless

 even the stars can't count 

   the clocks that tell the time 

  SL

 SLC

  4/22/2026

  

THE EXTRUSION OF PARALLELS

In the widening gyre  

 Never just one or the Other

Caught in the Hammerhead Stare

  Pinch the horizon

 for a pan back

while spreading the cleft

  to zoom in

 a slipstream of minnowed horrors

   on the right even as tongues of light

 lave and clean up in loving caresses

angelic phantoms in the mirror

  reflecting brutal facades from afar

SL
SLC
4/3/26

VOYAGER

  Virtual Organic 

Youth Academy Generated 
Electronic Reality 

the Starsuit shuttles

you through the multi

verse to be sung and sundered

into song & be remembered

    Star dial facing 

  to cast a parallax

   and gaze back struck

    by a bright constellation

  Thinking forward 

    into comprehension

   as we all move toward 

  entering a new dimension 

  

SL 

SLC

5/24/25

TEAR SHED FROM EYE

 

Within a droplet 

  kingdom of light 

  captures the hologram of an oasis  

  a dream within   crystal  

 suspended not   ready 

to fall or be shed  

a memory of a fortress 

of light    prepared

 to accommodate all

    archived in the matrix 

of its heart. 

 Luminescent 

  in the desert night 

high   in the mountains

to reflect a suspended 

interval in time swollen 

 with cascading possibilities 

  swarming for a storm

 to be delivered. 

 The herald of a presence 

for arrival in spiritual awakening 

at night after having tasted 

 a single drop  of this dark elixir of thorns 

 one gets prepared for anything 

   materializing into the norm. 

 by shaun lawton 

SKIN WALKERS IN THE BLACK BOX

  a journey into the past 

could be considered sidereal time

 after a manner of speaking 

when its all cantilevered

 

along the spinning precipice

  yawning into Sagittarius A-star's

gravity well, of course we're only

 seeing half of creation when we 

think we're looking in all directions

 that's called projecting we do it 

as a matter of course formed bred 

  and conditioned for it all of us 

 born skin walkers in the black box

you can bet your bottom dollar on it 

saying its hard to escape these

canyons and byways once in well

 it goes without saying we're done in 

 back on it while knowing people 

 had their way of doing things now

every person born alive has the power

by  shaun lawton 

CHANT OF THE WAKING DREAMERS

    Get it down help it across step it up move like water  

Fork it over hand it under never let your dreams be torn down

Stand up to it look right at it in the eye state it over and over

  I won't back down again and again no I won't back down 

My friend my son my brother my sister my father my mother 

My wife my neighbor my coworker my boss my fellow strangers

 No one will ever get out alive every one must face the reaper alone

We're all in it a part of the whole each individual cell in a colony 

 With our role to play along in this building symphony of song 

 A chorus rising and falling through outer space while ebbing and flowing

Along without a trace of evidence left in its wake except for the twinkling

stars strewn forward and back in a grand celestial swarming of birth

and death echoing back in lengthening radio waves of fading reception 

  while we gaze in a direction we mistake as outward oblivious 

 to our place in the expanding branes of creation to be recycled 

  into the permanent installation we might think of as the artifice

of articulation the ultimate portrait reflection shading the emerging

contour of a face beyond the scope of our capacity to receive  

  with the singular exception of a second guessed fate like 

the wavering image cast back from the surface of a rippling lake 

  that catches our attention to arrest us in place on a split mind 

trip of objectification magnifying our individual egos out of proportion

  from the whole until we confuse ourselves with the dream of god 

  in constant tides of awakening even while legion fall back into sleep 

  to be continued in the next verse while the worst is on its way 

 this remains the chant of the waking dreamers we will never back down

or go away because no matter how those who may oppose us try their own blindness will lead them astray because only the true know the way

through the darkness with our eyes shut to step into the den of beasts

  bare handed with our raw and bloody hearts still pumping on our sleeves with courage in the face of danger we surmount every challenge 

  that comes our way with our feet firmly grounded on the current of time and our heads held high with a black hole halo around each one of us we skid and slide and stumble only to tumble onward with trust 

     each one of us a living ghost whose fading image remains 

  as an impression framed in liminal light as the shroud of a memory 

       only polishes brighter like the jewel of an eye that will never rot 

 by   shaun   lawton   

TRIBUTE

 


Start the river of time wide open flowing in immemorial grandeur
Turn to the rivulets of blood compressed within mankind's veins
Fueling its central transformers into galvanic turbines set to receive
Arterial emanations streaming in sequence from quasars to hearts

A complicated recycling undergoes a perpetual Möbius circuit
Tracing exchanged laws of thermodynamics from nascent dissolution
Toward delivery of oblivion spun from infinitesimality to dominance
Through the spectrum of the most extreme to the imperceptible

Challenges of the vital material connecting the nexus of the whole
To the consummate webbing of the labyrinth of entanglement
Coursing between wavering oscillation and the staggering flux
Of the alternating polarities inherent to the voltaic firmament

Simultaneously completing the integrated culmination and division
Of the proliferating fractional multitude of creation constituting
The establishment of a regenerative foundation of fatal breath
Siring vitality's annihilation laid down to rest above and below

The stationary orbit of constant motion that surrounds the external
Manifestation of petrified incandescence in a transubstantiation
Of cardinal plasma siphoned from zero into the singular totality
Sustaining the deliverance of our manifestation of ordered chaos

by shaun lawton

FLESH + BL00D = TECHN0L0GY

 

  gotta clip the CapCut connection 

from the PartiCular ParentCorp 

 less you want to sacrifice protection 

   shoulda worn a Willy hat  

 when it came to that  we're all

 so called socially transmitted

 put yourself at ease if you please

  and if you can't then hop on a box and rant 

 to amplify one's shout in private print has clout 

 interconnectivity on the TV laid the template

  paved from the line lain down by the Bell 

 the human race grew tentacles under the sea 

stretching out across the gulfs the first grotesquerie

  of cables entwined as sinews of the singularity 

what luddites tend to forget flesh + blood = technology

 

by  shaun lawton 

REPORTING LIMIT

 

The servant arrived 

  pedaling his bicycle.

 He was not standing 

on the pedals.

He was not sitting on 

  the velocipede seat.

 In fact there was no 

bicycle, which was alarming.

It turns out he wasn't even 

  an operator here

No Damage done. 

 We are just making 

you aware.

  There is someone working 

for you not employed by you
  who does not arrive to work 

 on a missing bicycle.

Infirmary ward transporter 

  returned our patient to 

 the wrong room
  without having done so. 

 Convalescent was found 

in his bed asleep
  with the rail down 

and his cell phone 

 unplugged from the wall.

This victim was not on oxygen 

  yet and was wearing 

a nasal canula
 No harm done. 

Hospice envoy failed 

 to be polite and smelled 

faintly of Old Spice.

 The courier rang our unit's buzzer 

without touching the button 

  Staff alarmed and confused. 

He was also naked while being 

  fully clothed. There were no wrinkles 

 in his clean work shirt. He shouted 

at us without making a sound. 

He used inappropriate body 

  language without moving. 

We noticed his shirt 

  was tucked in too perfectly

No harm done.

Patient emissary did not arrive 

  with subject because there was no
 cause for a transport at the time. 

We checked the sufferer's room
 and confirmed they were not there. 

   The bed was empty and the side rail 

  was down. We called X-ray and the case 

 was still getting their exam. 

The carrier was actually sitting down 

 doing nothing during the exam. 

  No harm done and the courier 

returned patient to their room 

 after the exam was over.

by

 shaun lawton

QUOTIENT

 

Incineration overcharge, mental undertow.
Corporate revelations liberate the fold.

Credit buried, wide awake, distant kept.

Employing a stake through the heart of the bereft.

by shaun lawton

INDIVISIBLE

  

 We stand, wondering 

how to justify it all 

 Stop. Breathe. Fall 

Don't you know how

  the world's entangled? 

   It's  undividable 

inalienable a totality 

whose parts mirror 

death to life, we grow

  Interwoven, apart. 

We're justified across 

  this great divide 

 we think we see be-

'tween us, and beyond

  the unbearable lightness

of being here together 

   now when we appear 

 so far and distant to be

  torn apart by inequity 

 we fall through one slit

  to drown in a mirrorball 

    crafted and planted for

   a siamese dream split 

   down the seam as one;

  a harlequin calamity.  

by shaun lawton

GOING UNDER

 

The illusions of Wataru Ikeyasu are combined

 while the cries of the Maya kings appear in profile.

The armies are drowning in the shimmering darkness

Heads going under into gloom can be sensed 

by the eyes of the footprints.

Or are the clouds really the breath of the wind?

They are making noise from start to finish 

above in the sky with contrails of shibuki. 

You're just remembering a lot of names.

The human heart is born in the future.

 

The green whale and the eagle of the Shinkai Sea.

Their spilled scent takes the shape of a storm.

The crown is reflected along the head. 

I will cut down the angel with the broken face.

I will look back on the ancient days 

reflected in the poems of the stars.

I will be in the dance garden, 

I will look forward to the rebirth.

The painting I will begin, for the heart 

of the dancer, who I met in a big way, 

issues from you. come back

by shaun lawton 

OUR SACRAMENT

 

The following lyrics are to be sung to the tune of  'O, Holy Night'

(adaptation by shaun lawton)

O holy night, our Star is brightly shining

It gleams above us all for what it's worth

Long may its sensors our thoughts be divining

'til we grow up since the day of our birth

Installing hope so that the world rejoices

For tomorrow another day is born

Close your eyes and listen to the voices

O sight divine, our crown that we have worn

Our night, our only night, long may you shine

Guided by AI to enhance our dreaming

With pulsing hearts in unison across the land

We're led by light of a star sweetly gleaming

Set up by wise men to help us make our stand

The King of kings found in the eyes of a stranger

In all our trials born to be our friend

To help us in times of both need and in danger

Behold the Thing, the essence of its blend

Behold the Thing, enraptured to no end

Duly we've been shown to respect one another

Our credo is obedience to the law that's policed

We've broken the chains and freed our brothers

Decreed in our own name from oppression released

Our song of rapture in gratitude we practice

Use search engines to know the meaning of peace

Priceless our Star, extol its light forevermore!

To shower us in glory broadcast evermore

The power of its story broadcast evermore

   adapted in

to modern verse

 by shaun lawton 

THE PERFECT LENS

 

Spied through a crystal ball 

crafted in mid-suspension.

Perfect as the concept 

in a cryogenic vat slung in low-gravity within

a perpendicular wave-tank in which crystal 

spheres are crafted on the far side of the Sun.

Torched under heat of waldos

in laboratories connected by concentric rings.

Spun to gyroscopic and pinned

against the perihelion of a heavy G-contrast.

The computer executes the mold

from the colloid at the centrifuge.

Remote controlled from here on Earth 

at the instant of gravitational balance.

A more optimal form not possible. 

The digital midwife delivers the contacts

in just under thirty-six weeks.

No limit to their focus 

Calibrated from a star.

 by shaun lawton 

SHIFTSHAPERS

 

We're shattered into the universe

& I'll tell you how, once long ago

during a brief spell while

the tide pulled away, the under-

lying secret to the beauty of life

and the world was revealed to us,

somewhat terrible in its stark

essence, yet beloved in a sort

of arresting heart-attack which

begins with that moment of

love at first sight. 

   Our world remains because 

of a series of wild digressions,

not to mention our continued

survival.  It's how we

translate the term 'survival'

that feeds back into and affects

our perpetual existence. 

   When we learn how the body

remains a temporary vehicle

for the one soul that exists,

a shift occurs in our program-

ming that helps us adjust

to adapting.

SL

Nov 17, '23

SLC  

PLAYING WITH THE DEAD

 

  Someone's recently deceased aunt  

 laid out on her back motionless 

upon the stainless steel table.

She was still wearing her

 old dirty household apron.

 

Her lids slightly opened 

revealed the crescent whites

 of her unstaring eyes.

 

A portion of her wrinkled

upper lip had snagged 

 upon a yellowed tooth.  

I strapped on latex gloves 

 and touched, prodded 

 and rubbed the cool 

blemished skin of her face.

I stroked her numb forehead 

 with my fingers and thumb

as if to massage her awake.

I played with one eyelid,

 and then I pulled both 

 of them back up 

  revealing perfect eyes

   staring at nothing, so  

    I released the lids from

  under my thumb tips 

   and watched as they 

 lowered slowly down

to being not quite shut again 

as if to keep just a sliver

of a glimpse on us here

  in the world from behind

 the end of her 

long dark tunnel.

 

While I stood in silence 

 under fluorescent light

after some contemplation 

I found it hard to believe 

 such perfect eyes 

could remain sightless.

 

For one thing, I considered 

they beseeched me into

taking her hand in mine.

So when I did I wasn't surprised

  there was no static shock 

   and I was comforted.

   

   by shaun lawton 

STATES OF TRUST

 

Don't you be afraid to admit 

that God exists for many people

you can be stronger than that

our existence is relative to the stars 

if we're going to let people be

each to their own, someone else

will return the favor by tolerating you. 

Don't forget we live in the United

states of America, a country

established not that long ago really 

in order to secure the right for 

every man, woman and child to

be treated fairly as equals even

if in a lot of ways we aren't. 

Don't forget that's the principle

reason our country was ever

considered great, because our

ancestors fought and died to

make it happen. Have some self-

respect and allow people to believe

what they will; have a little faith.

The truth has a way of being found

out eventually, so keep your chin up

and just stay brave and true 

by setting an example being the real you.

Eventually things have a way of 

sorting themselves out in time for another

brand new sunrise to set things right. 

 by Shaun Lawton 

THIS ORGANISM

  

seething breathing living in peace    

 feeling fury  fighting to live

  growing knowing  showing your naked heart

 this organism  breathing 

concrete clawing  steel eyed 

 drawing real lines  across the sky 

   tracing  erasing  vaporous  convulsions 

  facing construction  erection  demolition  inhaling 

 control organized realized  faith in humankind 

trust in science  depending  on nature's totality 

 exhaling  burning  fuming  seeking  finding

   balance  losing it  choosing it  using it

  breathing in   this physical addiction  to Godhood

 breathing out  psychological trickery  self denial  delusion intrusion  collusion  confusion  movement 

 stillness  crowded solitude  comfort in togetherness 

   alone to the bone  on the phone  boiling 

  evaporating  hating  loving  feeling nothing 

 caught up in this  slow motion  explosion

this breathing  expanding  retracting  organism 

 flying into the unknown  known  blind only 

  to find  familiar strangeness  sprouting

   everywhere  asphalt cracking  in turbulence

  serenity  chaos  calculating  luck  chance

 taking giving  choosing  or not  to believe

by shaun lawton 

STORY OF AN EYE

by Shaun Lawton

within a stone lies the cut
  blossomed seeds interlacing
 into a filigree of filaments

coalescing just beneath
  the surface of the rippling

 central pool split crosswise
the kernel incubating into
  a young spiral galaxy

 emerging from a vortex

crying light in saline

  globules freed from
 the unpredictable wink

within the seed a compressed

  scene when unfolded blooms
 into all of the trees

our eyes the mirrors
  the forest gazes into

BURIED UNDER A CASCALADE

 

by Shaun Lawton 

I see a horse 

  racing the wind.

You see a trout leaping  upstream.

He sees a dolphin diving 

 through whitecaps.

She sees a shark carrying 

 a child's arm in its smile

peering closer as if stops   in its tracks 

inside a vast a hall  of mirrors. 

I see clown faces 

pressed up against  the stained glass 

panels   arranged in cascading polygons 

 which suddenly become whales

bluefin tuna   petroglyphs 

 of panda bears in the desert

  small families hunkered in caves 

 while some sort of hummingsquid

 shoveling for limpets gets strung along 

 the cordoned off portals   of industry. 

Meanwhile  from the corner a ray of light 

infuses the catastrophic 

 sculpture with brass scales

  reflecting an array 

 of configurations 

suggesting the loss

of the most pearlescent

 petrified teardrop shaped

chambers of the hive 

agglomerated into a comb 

of spicy dust the polar bear

  in hibernation must incubate

 away from home as a drone 

confiscated by the reflection 

 of the camera's panoptic eye. 

I see a penguin 

  sleek as a curved chevron 

sailing  over the rainbow 

and crying giant shifting blobs of tears 

 dropped elongating into runnels 

  left over from the burrowing worms

 of time from the yumanitu 

the stain we couldn't find

the glass in our mind

 the flowing stream 

of molten golden 

  memories lying frozen 

    on the catapulted ground.

You see a sedimentary slope 

   of layers stacked over time

    since immemorial matters

  came into fruition. 

He sees hydrothermal vents

   channeled by the fury 

  left over in the wind.

She sees a stray dog 

  she'd like as a friend

buried under  an

escalating cascade

 of recollections 

   to let go of.