Sky spinning out the sol star

How the sky spinning out the sol star

when that giant molester corners the clearance of the skies

this radiant seething dinosaur

tempts and taunts and smears

an expressionist spotlight interrogating

each victim of the winged killer.where its

leering poison so fired upon the flesh

that flayed ripple seers across the scuffed sand.

Is it always honing in on barely half-baked buried

amidst the detritus for unripe wrinkles of mellow youthful burn ?

Perhaps because of the sun raging self-blisters

the currents that fawn the sunbroker

whose skin luring lavish the reckless-seeking

besides the hiding squint of stored moments

fracturing memories that pass as

its lick of the evening ?

Or do hollowing echoes of long tides split night

haunted by peeling of the sun

too close to the enemy of unresolved detection ?

Such are we the blighted fossils that we unthink

the blur lava of spells of enticement

where we are uninvited guests of the very great friends

who have outstayed their welcome ?

Or are we ourselves uninsured deriders

who protract the yielding of the sun

whilst we paddle out our shallows ?

But how vengeant omens are to

such carefree sun hunger ?

Do we never hear the beast snorting

or see how receding skin that revolts and molts upon

the sharp reflexes and rust

of the lord of the invasive ?

How should we cure our introvenous curse

but by the shade that we ignore

where unprotected greed of self-wealth

fierce the asset-stripper that

we've imbibed beyond the

layers of perception ?

When did we skin or stem the wounds

of guilt in the name

of 'now' that severing charm that excludes the 'never' ?

How do we immerse the future before the cusp of our sentence

or how do we contort the inner gaze of

the human earthquake

that is devoured before it is consumed

but by hacking history to resolve its smirk beneath its errant pride ?

Should we open the 'furnace wasteland or run devour the peach

in these misdirected eruptions

that lash the very leash of this shackled time

that stark consumer

but from which conceals our true human cages within chains

that circus of next door that is the other side of the world ?

This is the winged and gilled serpent that master from eye drones

bleeding the ringing ears.

of battle slugging worshippers marooned

and dived bombed by the heat and the dust swirl

in the menace of our core.

Why wait until we claw through the bars of falsehood

whilst locking ourselves in just to

relive the refrain that in order to break-out we need to break-in ?!

So let us see the day light in order to respect the sun

let us not wonder through our maze of stars but fear our own

because we are the day of sin,

that lunged invader that tumoured callous

that grip our rage within our latest rage

where shrapnel falls to scar the plough

and gouge-out the side of our lives

that crimson badaged profile like a

bullet extracted without care at the mercy of battlefield

just as the 'now' that can never return

to caress our sleep

and not recoil when fear fails to retreat