Kenneth Cledera

Sorrows thrown into the river of styx.
Proselytising raindrops to teardrops.
Cry me an alter alternate reality.
Dark abstruse universe within me.
...

Peculiar to be.
An alternate alter.
A thousand known, A thousand beware.
Angst.
...

A time wherein
Everything slows but everyone.
Every drop a minute more.
A little less, A little you, that of is time.
...

Trapped inside concrete
one of your choices were;
a window as big as fifty bananas piled together
connecting yourself to
...

Comfort
within
the shower room
For they enter
...

Pain
is not
inherently concrete,
if unfelt
...

To the recipient;
not yourself,
nor myself,
nor the reader,
...

Hanging from the sky
a summit, a toe, a hope, and
those that the fingertip can't reach.
Without doubt, it stays asleep.
...

Orange oceans
without depth,
nor shade
remain
...

Nicking knacks of rumble
squirm to battlefield
no mountain nor ocean inhabit,
if plains or lakes survive
...

...

Death's end:
A veer to begin pain,
balloons out like a javelin,
from a babes' eye—it ran
...

Just another, loves,
that doesn't leave, but a remembering,
distant from what us touched
'twas the immediate rest
...

Oh Monstilva! Had be cold:
his cheeks be without bleed,
tampered from its daily bleed,
It mimicked the very ground—
...

...

Hidden in midnight,
upon light its visage unearths:
shadows of a plant.
...

Be it where:
oceans slams cliffs
or there and here;
oceans sift through sand
...

A darker-shade fire deprived
Is but an extinguished burn.
Or so until a breath
To be a little brighter.
...

At opposing tracks
they ran:
foreign, then home.
Chasing one another
...

Little but coarse
that of a sands' valiance
all and itself
till rushing seas rummages
...