The Reason 4 Seasons
An IJL Collab with a special apperance by Slim Desperado
Slim D.
My purple tendons
spread unevenly
across the steep face of the manor
smothered by cotton fields of snow
I have sown with that great scythe
my finger. I feel my sleep,
draining towards the apricot sky.
it doesn't look like lead anymore.
I kiss
A herd of my swerving children
lying like goats in the sky
with an armageddon brush
I transform them into shapes.
A silver dog,
the vessel I have chosen
shakes the river off its
coat, sniffing at an eruption
of blossom pink pollen spores;
subsequently, a soft sphere lands on its nose
and causes it to sneeze comically.
A young man walks out of his apartment,
takes off his jacket, turns around,
puts it back inside.
Several people eat on patios,
picking charred chicken off the bone,
the veins of blood visible.
a pile of mashed potatos
looks like
how a mound of snow once did.
This is a time of birth, of birth and re-birth
the sun soaked forests are a canvas for
each still life, each flower and bird and insect
I smear across the map.
Ntalek
I smile when happiness
overwhelm's me, blushing
and blowing demulcent
winds. Whilst taking deep
breaths in and out.
The tears of joy decant,
down toward the wrinkles
within my senescent structure.
Acting as an affusion-pouring
downwards. Upon the hard heads
of these effrontery pedestrians,
walking immoderately across my
soul. My skin crawls of maltreat.
I wish to incinerate those who
abuse my beauty, setting my soul
ablaze by masking me in pollution.
I can barely breathe as winds calm
to nearly none. I stare at naked
souls as I look upon my torso.
Waving heat strokes as I incline
my position. Clothing material
has lacked due to my obscene
behavior. Now you wish I'd cry
don't you. I shed no remorse.
You have yet to listen to my
silent whispers, your cloth's
have misinterpreted my
meaning and
"I beg to differ!"
Spoken Deity
I let night off its leash,
while the sun creeps behind drapes
of space, letting the stars
shed their cape of fear
so that they may dance a bit in
a lover’s eyes…
The new cold is brisk, searing
on my flesh, now smothered
by the dead fire leafs…
My children, killed by
plagues, carried by breath
of Gods;
Putrid. Stinging.
Orchards of red,
covered by minstrel blood
of the children now orphaned;
forgotten.
Soulless trees weep
for their baron wombs,
seeing the sky usher in
rolling clouds ready to
drop a new sense of purity over
the graves… As cold gets colder,
my soul grows weary of
changing tides.
P. Macto
Loitering scum, coated under litter
as I, coated under a blanket of soot.
Though, for aesthetic pleasantness
I have been given a quilt of white;
I tremble, yet make you proud,
Wearing your cape of white;
Invisible, as you trampled upon the ground.
Awoken by the deceptive gleam of the sun;
I feel fresh yet frost bite stings my ankles;
And I’m having a bad hair day...
My fringe an icicle chain.
My hands are all swollen
Eyes red, sort of weary;
Awaiting my morning breakfast;
And there it is, on time, a toast
And a half empty coffee from Starbucks.
Maybe, there is no hope
in this endless cycle of gloomy repetition.
Yet I have heard many a man say
“That only after the darkest day comes light”
Then maybe there is yet hope;
To be awoken by the Sun’s warmth
And cleansed by the first break of rain.
Slim Desperado - Spring
Ntalek-Summer
Spoken Diety - Fall
P. Macto - Winter
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