Asemic Tarot Cards 50 & 51 : Conjoined Reading

Seeking a gentle introduction to bits and pieces of pure gesture: conception & avocados –

agenda of synchronicities

divulges pancake’s eyes & velocipede’s ears.

 

An attempt to systematize roasted asemic horizon lines on phonetic razors with asemic onions:

seek the green leaves,

ascend the blue bureau of statistical anomalies,

a phonograph, a solargram, and a rotary dial

stroll on by.


A recursive definition: theory is the fractal theory of generic infrastructure streams threatening to coalesce into duvets over the glass rainbow & through the looking glass eye mug –

Irises open to view eyrie.

 

  An asymptote ash tree horizon,

hovering above, dazzling shadows,

jazz tap dancer’s sequins –

under night’s shroud

coal fire eyes strode,

slurping fireflies.

 

As theoretical coleslaw approaches hypothetical dreams of the entire world, grotesque grovelling situations becomes suppressed in prose poetry’s hyper-structural rom-com.

 

 

Pure gestures can be understood

without meowing pedestrians –

pretty paws crosswalk

in wine-hall’s fluttering lids

that stare out at revelry rose petals.

 

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Asemic Tarot Card 45 – The Metaphor Fabulist

The body of the River, suffering from depression, steals away her daughter – climbing up to a small mountain village isolated from the wild narratives of the North, dreams layered like fine silk, formed by the unpredictable world.

 

Odeon metaphors climb tall Epithets –

leaving behind Pitiful Hats.

Oxymorons exude bittersweet

Xotty Yellow Mirrors,

Ornate Onions,

found near surprising juxtapositions,

that cling to ephemeral epistles.

 

The Sparks sanguinely sing.

Grains of cumin

gently fall into the sleeping becks.

This folklore has crafted

a comforting poignant calibration –

jumping kitchen sinks

hopscotch across ceiling tiles

to the beat of Celtic reels –

flips and flickers,

fear-caring effervescent spirit tongues

touching Truth.

 

Bbq’d perogies brown,

crisp & swell,

bursting open –

a congregation of butterflies.

 

 

In the small Forest of Oxymora, history is woven in moss & mirrors of starfish monologues . Hidden Kelp becomes a poet in the sky. This has a history of inevitable reflections and philosophic pointillism.

 

 

Fabulism – “a range of non-realist narrative” or a literature of the fantastic which includes, but is not necessarily limited to magic realism, slipstream, literary science fiction, new weird, modern fable, fairy tale, literary horror, and surrealism. I resist the idea of one clear definition and refuse to draw a solid line between genres as I actually prefer to blur them. Most definitions, like manifestos, tend to exclude and qualify to the point of being useless to any practice of writing for wholeness and mystery, which I feel is an original gift of the muse. (Editor David Memmot of Wordcraft)

 

Asemic Tarot 13 – looking for mountain rainbows

Before shaking the brittle bar of hidden truths, remember that it is a rainbow “frozen” from the mountain,….. and it is made up of an enclosure swept from the open woods.

 

Dark,

Deep, Hive Lake.

I feel it hardly moves.

 

The sound of the lake called as a dream of all lakes.

 

Flake door,

The exception –

Uniformly rectangular door

is the nearest part of the year.

 

The nuclear fission room maintains the Hall of Martyrdom.

 

Open now the ship’s name,

Start wind error bell –

Easy shot of a dark wall,

nameless sounds, and promises.

 

He was supposed to play a cage, whose dream is to look at the tubes at night.

 

Village between dust –

The whole season burned….

quagmires of solitude

erupted on tarantula horizons.

 

My visions have escaped these deary distant sonances, slumbering beneath the clashing waves of stars.

 

Remove the trembling air

from being torn apart

by rancorous beads

of betrayal –

being that sour sound, war.

 

Such things are only possible when looking for mountain rainbows in the corner of an empty room.

 

 

Asemic Tarot 35- the cervical toad

To the cervical toad,

the dance is just a begrudging ceremony:

The group, a malformed malapropism

in rheumy eyes –

like cymbals crashing against

the victims of image-Loading~Enabled=b^.

 

Sleep box at da valentina;

an oblong diversion of forgotten phantoms,

just piecrust in a tin can waiting for

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Seventh vertebra full gold process in

c,d = dogs+Ta++;G[d] = b;b8q.

Of those sleeping smiling sloths,

there is no fracture

that sings in these dim halls of regret.

 

Seventh vertebra full gold process in

c,d= dogs+Ta++;G[d]=b;b.

Of that face of sleep,

there is no fracture

that sings in these dim halls of regret.

 

I stop before diouf Error 0xc1900204a,

from the month of mouth woods;

Recovering that syrup of uncertainty

falling from branches

filled with dry dead bird nests,

often the soul keeps miles

wrapped around twisted poesy.

 

Of the regime, blistering with anxious wheedling offers & demands, it was said,

Damningly, the performance was described as an historic shipwreck – in which the clueless cubes’ worst nightmares had come true.”

 

Asemic Tarot 12 : Rosetta Telegraphic Smile

Cat chases Dog on

Rosetta Telegraphic

Smile – night laughter simile.

 

…..’tis like someone’s dancing soul

in a green bottle of joy.

 

Pour out your negativity on a nihilist’s bed of rusty nails – it is just a tuna fish sandwich of Fate calling from the Defunct Department Store’s Christmas Catalogue, all jam-packed with cantaloupe calliopes & prequels to four cicada cylinders……. haven of a clitellar of well wishing whale harpoons wandering through walls of discontented marginalized memories of marmalade mediocrity to the melody of forty second street ghosts on petulant parade; how like an agony of aunts in angst accoutrements agitating for a cogitating contagion of conjunctions to forgive superlative nations incoronate deleading goodly designated evenings. You have fits of wellington warbles by the window of plenitude, the consolation constellations & marbleized verbiage pour over the eaves of verisimilitude.

 

As the hippo has wings

for harlequin masques,

The cracker pie is baking

in the overture of your heart –

hi-ho hi-ho,

let the rain go,

let the rain go.