The Poetry Marathon

Prickled consciousness

filtered into metal plates on hippy highways of intergalactic travel on the breath spin of a happened humanity lost to AI gods

On another dimension, the wise children have parted with form into ascendant glory illuminus; cast to virgin shores of better lift and power; the subtle sighs of truth watching her alternate lose vessels to soul suckling tech-accord but well away that the reality be subsumed without consequence

in these tiny steps from now

the chaos of beingness rages

as every star is caught up in its own glow

save, the wise children who keep the one picture

the wise children, who keep the one flow.

I kept the sentinels from our scenes in the pocket of my heart strings… tampering the dilly dallying of perfect blushing souls lost to the desert of want from the milky outset of wanton rivers; happy stars

I still gallery each strand of bloodied hair

i hold the image of your empty eyes as i fell into you from my emptying ones before they came and tore my center from my grappling hands, hungry to keep a pretty perfect dying picture; the only one that made sense on the battlefield of fallen flowers looking to bloom

I gallery the danger of our oneness

the passion of our sin

roving with sweet nectar of butterfly angels

pre telling the death that took you from me

yet you’re right here

reading everyword

though i can’t touch you

i feel you

right here with me

Pain over patter

breeze over touch

delirious confliction is peace

if you stay right here with me

stay?

Wear my silver bullets on the edge of the fire forcing my feet across the red lines of hault

while you tarry away with my heart

i answer the call of its most dangerous part

t’was more than you after all

one settled score

i care to fall away, now and deeper more

The cipher winds herald a new cleanse as we wait beneath the stellar comforts of our guiding tribune, pointing to our stars where our torches are lit in magical harmony with the chill of a new bliss awaiting by virtue of our assembled accord

The calling whispers, chill connected cell sparsts with the life of a new adventure as we find our way back to this timeless star of kind intentions; troubling still. For the slumber before this awakening keeps sweet sake on the vessel of hallowed fortunes in the high trees of perfect nature, detached from the chaos, marking passage through this passing valley of constant souls….

I see you my friend

I hear you close

come

come

Hi, my name’s Ivan. This is my first poetry marathon and any tips i could get from experienced folk would be helpful. Thank you!