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Shatter, scatter, broken glass and thunder,

I see bruises on the sunset, beaches silent,

My breath creates mist in lonely summer.


I seem to rage and hurt and wish karma,

The heart stained, like my craft; violent,

lacking subtleties, I fall and ask for mother.


In day I rest in my arms, in mornings I shutter.

Its daybreak, breathe kindness, godly likeness,

I’m more reason to cry, reason smiles might stutter.


Unto the light I might go blind, insight; I’m martyr,

In page I might dance, freely grasp God’s climax.

In head I’m darkened, anxious about future blunders.


As the day ends and begins, I stay as a Lover.

Breathing grows better, I learn to find substance

smiles I glitch out, to her I’m willing to be founder


of my sunset in smiles, to polish the Universe of dentures,

to hold the cosmos in breath, to sing a consciousness

of gods encountering worship, to birth nostalgia

in a future, to crack a chuckle and truly embrace.


By Eugene ‘Philosophisticater’


Artwork by Tomasz Alen Kopera

℗ Philosophistication Poetry ℗

2020 All Rights Reserved ©



Villanelle of the Mirror seeing Me

I breathe!

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