Scales

What Molecular armor! How planned, yet how the knife undoes an army. Bat wings amongst the water and cotton spores . A Rhino Beetle clicks against the Empire State Building.

“Do we stop it?”

“No. LSD is a one time deal.”

Moon Wild

 

Sitting Here. Cat like comfort ability. I wait for Zen among nature, among the city. Wild moon in the prairie intercepts the mosquitoes beckoning. My sight is guided to the planes beyond earth. Wings crash into the pale luminary. Exhaust punctuates the air’s balloon skin, purples and blues of kaleidoscopic intent. The mosquitoes bite into me and on my eyes they drink away the wild moon.

 

 

Nuance plague
 
Prisma-color clouds
Of psychedelic lightning
Parade through prism
Skies
 
And he watches
Wondering
if there is an off switch
On his minds kaleidoscope

 

 

 

Suns pupils

Yesterday gravel is flooding the highlands, moving as leopards and
spotted like dew storms, traveling through the ferocity felines of the
suns eyes, the suns iris, the suns pupils.

 

 

 

Go there

The place of past pennies with pilot-eyes lighting the cackling killers
that petrifies lineage and renews the Icarus thoughts that retrieve it,
the amulets covet and I am in junipers,
I am in June,
And I left too soon
To understand all of you.

 

Absolute Synthesis

 

He watches the open blue.

His eyes find it,

His green drink ties his arms down.

A red comet carried aback a silver bird.

Pellucid purple streaks, an urchin.

It prickles its slavery across sliding

Water communities,

jumbled like tufts of hair.

Graveled Peridot specks break

Down the silver birds wings,

Into less than atoms.

And silver feathers

Shiver and shudder as they speed

Towards the earth.

Like the comet

They once carried.

 

 

Swift Stripes! The Clash!

 

Orange zebra stripes, slam

against blue casualties in the sky.

          The suns mischief,

poking his little brother, atmosphere,

          right on the forehead

 

The deeper clouds wade,

          like tired oxen

          in a swamp

awaiting new fields.

 

an octagonal pine tree

          stands like a gate keeper

                   on guard

protecting, from east to elsewhere

         

The orange zebra stripes

          reform into slippery blue

lizard bellies

 

          the oxen sluggishly wander

and hover

          in search of new fields.

parish rune

 

The exception to the electric rule

welcomed as the poison hurricane

the stone eyed wolf hollers

for without sight there is no moon

 

the ruler stood amidst lightning

he greeted the arsenic typhoon

the dogs all ruffled their rocky ears

for without noise there is no wind

 

to accept the thundered revolts

unwelcomed as the dark blooded rains

the men all paced silently

for without a voice there is no soul

 

Green Ire

 

A pronoun deprived beast born from nimbus

Migrating from the purity of cat’s-eye

I feel like I’m alone but not kinless

But I’m the last of my breed soon to die

 

I’ll try to teach the sun about winter

I will bring forth my own predictions

Like the right not wrong hand I’m a splinter

Thriving off of a Nostradamus based friction

 

I will channel because I am remote

I will fall to the deepest dungeon of upright behavior

Hopeless I don’t expect the rest of your dreams to float

But I will gladly become your zodiac bonded savior

 

 

Mirror Project: Serpentine Everlast

Given the vicarious look in your eyes,
I would contrive weakness,
I would easily sort your quantum gusts,
Given the fact your swords already died off.

Eagle novas of peculiar art.
Faster red than you are girl.
Faster than your boots on polygon rainbows.
Eagle wings my friend, bind them.

Cryptic rants I do so bleed,
however, they feed me fire.
However much fuel I need to drink.
Cryptic ice on a sunny boardwalk.

I’ve come to the conclusion of.. Something.
But fear is a cured plague.
But that isn't all mine.
I've grown to love the Ragnarok.

Ratatosk scurries for my Loki attributes,

yet Giants crush the mountains blood tributes.
I find all of this in the stolen beach of orange clouds.
I should probably get some sleep.

 

 

 

 

Tannen Dell is a writer from Tigard, Oregon. He is the Editor-in-Chief of Indigo Rising Magazine which will soon be on a cross country writers expedition and is currently working on some manuscripts of poetry and fiction while working on his MFA in Creative writing. He hopes you enjoy reading his material as every time someone does, somewhere out there, a baby Snow Seal gets a big hug.