The Black Orchid
A black orchid confined,
to its bed, held in artificial
bloom, on life support.
With its epitaph ordered,
a wooden box carved and crafted.
Now enclosed with garrisoned guilt carried eternal.
It will be embalmed, protected,
delivered to the ground.
It drinks no more, then it passes forth
forever to taste soil.
Confined to dirt most weary
as it is reintroduced to its creator
in the final echoes, of a twenty one gun salute
Bang, pause, bang.
Visions in entropy
I dream in entropy
Black and white decay
in causality and A to B
When I awake
I never know the C
I dream in caused expressions
of my past day – working
like a scattered seed
fractal in memory’s nature
Sometimes I awake in startled sweat
A chaos effect slowly flutters
my mind from fretted singularity
in density of collapsed bio processing
Then one smile emerged – I shouldn’t read
about black hole theorem
before I leave fast the day
Caught in a waked confusion – a small pinch
required to tell me I am real – right, but am I sure