Ex Per I Mental Poem by Broken Shell

Automatically, I flow freely, like rivers with a heart beat
in tune with the matchless rhythm of the care free universe.

This quest I'm on is already solved like a question never asked only revealed.

BLAST!

Something to break up the mo no tony and break the limbs of the tree
personified.

Snap goes the bones of branches.

Sap flows the blood of heros made of oak decades.

At Last!

Pre cip i tation of the anti-cip-ation.

This pace I'm on reckless and ruthless

surely has merit and purpose for the observant who will
arrive to participate in this excercise of melancholy folly and futility.

Point the finger at moot. Isn't that the root and rings within counting
what counts?

Providing shelter to birds, the nests rest in trees.

Throw that baby bird OUT

It's time to fly so high...no Doubt

can't discern the colors of my feathers or how many rings distinguish
from the trunk.

Inside the trunk could be the evidence.

But that's only to keep the mystery alive and besides the
suitcases were filled to the locks with the traveller's disquise.

Where was he running in such determined pursuit?

Who was she waiting on me again?

Well, I'd hate to dis appoint so I will appoint no seasons named
winter, spring, summer or fall and will name no new ones either.

Afterall, the consequences could be disastrous.

Another cog in the meatwheel grinding against the timeclock.

Free from the rat race!

Reverse the psychology God I hope no one reads this before noon is now sometime, more precisely, midday.

Please do not comment. It will only hasten the inevitable.

Mortuary silence electricity waking up dead bones
the allegory so illustrious the wealth wants its wheels back.

Pad the sad pantomime panting toward the finish line.

I know nothing of suffering.

Schizofective orchestration cherished as the tool in the hand of the skilled master.

EXPLOSION

carved away the weaknesses, ranting on like a rampage.

Chasing the waves, one skips rocks, if one could connect all the hops,
the puzzle would be the wishing well puzzle completed to shine on display.

Myriad faintest whisper, overanalyzing the moments before each chance to take a breath.

In the shallows blood on the surface just as lure for the sharks,
then to hook the whale.

Regurgitation.

All covered in the entrails and digestive juices of the whale.
All covered in the grave clothes, spit out a fire the spitting image.

Mercenary flames forged from the lakes of fire.

Sizzle of the sound makes it all extinguishable.

Right the rafters on the table just as soon as I'm able,
cained the canned scorpion tails and splintered in a baker's dozen
directions.

DESTRUCTION

No fairy tales were destroyed in the recording of the apocalypse,
but they still didn't turn my dark hair white.

Only thought there was the possibility of randomness but chaos admitted its proven failures.