Pax Poetika

New world chaos,

mismatching socks and
talking the walk like
ticking clocks.

Order come to a stop,
fraught with
the arrangements
lost trying to
alphabetize
one’s thoughts.

World tripped over its borders,
love letters via mortar fire.

A trainwreck called Desire,
the universe is not in our stars or we might
have sired suns.

Instead,
infatuated with the moon’s
many daughters,
we were suitors to
some and
pre-occupied others.

Just sentries, we say, but regime change
lurks in the cards
when sovereigns of my heart are under
seige,

the pursuit of
happiness broken off into
the sea as California yearns to

join the endless wandering blue
wooing fault lines.

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2 thoughts on “Pax Poetika

  1. Fine work!

    I especially love the lines ‘love letters via mortar fire.’ Does this symbolize international conflict?

    My second favorite lines are ‘the universe is not in our stars or we would have sired suns.’ Magnificent wordplay, my friend! What does it mean though? Does it mean existence is not in the concrete world but something metaphysical and abstract?

    Your poetry screams of a dystopian chaotic world with an underlying hidden meaning.

    Wonderful work my friend! I look forward to reading more!

    Liked by 1 person

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