Fracture

Let me consider a while, in fracturing mirror;

The bells ring threateningly impassable path collapse.

I exist on thick stratus clouds obsidian laps,

Laughing mania maniacal teeth

At pitchforks and torches, flames and horses, mobs malicious.

I will offer you no retreats.

My existence radials from metaphors cores,

Signs of times unsublime; trumpets and seals,

Exsanguination moon and ashing sun tides,

At my manifestation surfacing riling rise!

You will find me where I am remote.

You will find me where I am cunning and silent.

You will seek me where I am circumspect.

Let me consider a while,In fracturing mirror;

The silence ripples out in wasp honey articulate,

Sickly sweets decaying desiccates.

I am lurking unholy gothics,

Under invocations ancient,

I am plague flesh fevered,

Howled slowly in spreading bleeding blacks.

I am reviled hearts in atavisms,

Abhorrence in hidden self harm hinderances.

Hidden in underneath’s, a human heart screams for ascent,

A new creation, a new monster, a new confluence.

Judge me, O Efreeti, according to me…

Dying off into a terrified…wisping…whimpering…whispers

© Leila Samarrai

Photo Credit: The False Mirror, 1928 by Rene Magritte

Scattered family after Facebook block

As strip uncorrupted faceted coats
hard shell and blanketed sort of a universe
cold coldness
of my being
to be
feel like
Carnallite
a bad taste of Taconite
such a cruelty

Whence fear no assault but all that spake
in the beam
all square sides
.. Potere… Elbaite with albite and Lepidolite.
striving the acrylics
shine, you gorgeous butterfly wing jasper
oh shame to onset painter
enslaved
artist
’tis, my shuly languorous etcetera
to confound the pace
but wither- amateur
de blanc et de noir,
a slant of it
allegro
softly coming from anon
thirst-ridden sinews each dim
the winch is to toss trails, into the lap of andante
and the harsh fervid moon over feet she lifts
on light-footed germinal egg
The Dickite of the Facebook family block.
The Fukalite within the loud flames
of her benevolent heart,
Disconsolately, I think
she goes to kill herself by
Shawshank gems, rock and pistol.
when the grocery can opens and camels seems like Canterbury
windows
she will sleep with then
by then
the pastures will glisten
the pocketbook will listen
copper chromate arsenate hydroxide
in visions of endless love.
Scintillating
day, night, aunt Margaret
shall I tell you a secret?
alas, wee birdie and beast
this is the trashes of songs
but still keeps carving dark dark
and the cry works all the time

But mistakes her for the medals
for too long, the bingo father
and the bingo mother
and the bingo sister – lover,
and a flutter, outside the large
a retro box filled with slime
and nothing but a slime

and the Mind House spots me in Poland
bamboo leaf for lotus, Atomium, La Pedrera
so don’t blame panda for my family corduroy
I have to travel somewhere. I know.
I have gotta go swimming in Mid Atlantic
supported by the Meta Picture of myself

feel like
feel like
for daddy may come and daddy may go,
but mummy will persist forever.

Moolooite, hear me
in that Emanating dim pit
stings my smooth plastic absolute
for i’m quartz, a chert, a life
sitting in a very fetal position under an oversized rock
with other dead souls.

a fairly set.