Said Practitioner:
I am waking up in the wake of sprawl…
I am awake…… to forge on our downward crawl...

Grant Livesay:
Feminine featured red shawl floating
on a canvas drenched in black oil
and she is either taunting or beckoning you
a tease were she to bleed a face or feet
they would have been pale expressionless braille
but childlike beautiful in such early morning nascence fail:
DXM induced dream-scape
where the fiends are refined
defined by whate'er they decide most painful
then inescapable upon one's sun rise...
wry cry of the cock in morning
scream unblinking eye: depraved
at your burning partner's daily nonchalant mime
"baby, don't you want mine?"
she asks, open, as his intimate posing encroaching
on sharp intakes of breath - cleft sighs and bereft nights,
copulate aesthetic conception: painting isle nigh.

Said Practitioner: I’m awake and we are in wake of…

Twinn Zeus:
What were once blank stare now obtain meaning,
An existential dilemma, reflections screening,
Vertical moving awnings, producing saline streaming
Solutions relieving, pressure, undressing wounds with sonic booms of screaming,
On man's journey back to the Earth,
At one point its basic compounds are released first,
Audio levels are measured in kilo-hertz,
It exhibits the same attributes as truth, for better or for worse,
Reference to reverence shall no longer be accepted as fact,
In order for one's identity to intrinsically remain intact,
Flesh must peel, the idea of sanity must be scrapped,
Otherwise truancy concerning reverent references will remain intact,
Oh Ye', bronze skinned vessel of life,
Strife riddled might I ask why, am I in your sights,
Why aim at the mortal,
With the opal vorpal, rays that attack with a doleful intention,
Suspension, of the guarding mechanist derision,
A polarized manifestation of what I envision,
What exponent of power must I call upon to divert this gaze,
Placing my, racing mind, in a stringent colored haze,
Stinging leaky faucet function,
Awarding my mediocrity with a lack luster luncheon,
A cornucopia of demonic impulses,
As my body convulses,
As the harbinger of destruction plays a movement at a frequency,
That shatters the mirror levitating in my periphery,
A visceral reflection that continues eternally,
Burning the ,
Logic in Absurdity,
On the inside of my eyelids,
Poison tipped pens bring an end to the pious,
Nature of those devoted to codes of silence,
Plus and Minus,
Controlling my destiny using God's Stylus,
Write off insecurities as the ramblings of a nihilist,
Floating across the Nile on a raft made of papyrus,
Drifting, sifting,
Sullen, down trodden, but remains uplifting,
Through the swamp of vowel laden consonants Maiden Names . . .