Sentence of Sentience – Max Meunier

max

 

Sentence of Sentience – Max Meunier

what have i
but quieted inquiries

hollowed
and echoed
through vales
of a sub-violet druse
of aversion

no tangible touch
to form valid expression

intentions adrift
amid merciless
miles of mutable morass

from which somnolous streams
softly spill
forth eclipses

in lapses
bereft of availing account

where whims slowly waft
beyond walled apparitions

fled from partition
to form in summation
a dormant despair
born of quiet desperation

awaiting conclusion
in sediments muring

a freedom reprieved
of sententious ideal

for what purpose plausible
peers within prisms

but spectacle
cradling consciences captious

enraptured in casting incessant goodbyes

alas
i digress
lest my thoughts
become i

[image credit: Wilhelm Kotarbinski]

Max states: “I write about the things going on in my life. I am a feminist, humanist, cat loving musician bound by whimsy and the incessant analysis of hyper-vigilant observations.  I am obsessed with words and rhythmically woven wordplay.” We are honored to have him as a member of our tribe.  He writes at Max Meunier Dissocative Void.

 

When Today Found Me

Max Meunier

and it was today

not knowing its meaning
not knowing why

i know that i love you.

that nothing remains

in this nomad’s world

for hands to behold

but the fleeting whispers
through eyes spent

desiccant.

i watch
immured in solitude

when laymen’s hours prohibit

with all they dared to disregard.

i struggle to make out a face
its features framed of faint obscure

ne’er could i mistake
that feeling

the comfort of your company

forever, it resides within me.

with naught but useless
power of flesh

i flounder in this hopeless muster

holding onto dust
the taste of rust upon my quivered lip

all that i do humbly ask
would you now hear this utterance

“just one simple sentiment, i miss you.”.

through these memories, i bleed
into somatic nights of static

’til our stars again align

go now

ravage every sky
that stings with freedom
whence sought of your heart’s requite

[image credit: Sadanobu…

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As We Are – Max Meunier

max

As We Are – Max Meunier

the consequence
your kiss requites
e’er moors my heart’s
intrinsic orbit

gravity
of your exert
affords each breath
its fate anewed

the magnitude
felt by your presence
stays the precipice of earth

your words avow validity
to voices once devoid
of venue

emptiness was heretofore
now understated
understood

stoic walls
electric impulse
chemicals, reactive substrates

ushered by the impetus
of oscillating frequencies
athwart velocities in flux

a symphonic polarity
imploding spectrums infinite
through spectred trials
of flesh profound

resounding far beyond
the vacuous expanse of space
in timeless incarnations
as we are

Max states: “I write about the things going on in my life. I am a feminist, humanist, cat loving musician bound by whimsy and the incessant analysis of hyper-vigilant observations.  I am obsessed with words and rhythmically woven wordplay.” We are honored to have him as a member of our tribe.  He writes at Max Meunier Dissocative Void.

 

Please Explain

Max Meunier

i wouldn’t be lying
if i told you
i was being dishonest

at which point
would it really matter
anyway

its purpose
was not born of malice
nor to pacify
or justify

it is rather precisely
this reproachable pretense

of which it was my intention
to deftly circumvent

i’ve yet to find
the patience
for effusive explanation

if by scrupulous omission
i can subsequently skirt
obligatory inquisition
based on commonly feigned misconception

i would much prefer
to proactively forgo contention

conveyance is not my forte
abeyance is far more fitting

honestly, is honesty
not honorably objective

true, this might sound objectionable
as veracity is, voiced aloud

i swear i’m not despicable
and certainly, not proud

but i so despise such prodding
it deprives me of the scant control

over that which i have deemed
as essentially inconsequential

arbitrary, as it were
not befitting of retribution

now, if you would exuse…

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Diorama-Max Meunier/Dissociative Void

i stepped into a diorama

walking through pellucid clouds

 

the air was tight

sky was shallow

voices, still, in static freefall

 

the light of day was overshadowed

jilted, lumbering eclipses

 

an atmosphere so stifling

 

like starfish lost in the sahara

 

fear had strung the leash that tethered me

to the abandoned mine

 

overhead were expectations

looming like the unseen eye

 

quietly, i moved below

like fetid water seeping

from a broken fridge at midnight

 

had i drawn their consciousness

my words would have become subverted

 

so it was, my tongue did stay

 

never would such thoughts again

beset my addled mind

returning to the ocean and the sand whence i arose

 

for i could not recall my name

 

every eve as death awaited

 

watching from a borrowed window

 

perched upon the impasse

 

of the broken wing of time


Max states: “I write about the things going on in my life. I am a feminist, humanist, cat loving musician bound by whimsy and the incessant analysis of hyper-vigilant observations.  I am obsessed with words and rhythmically woven wordplay.” We are honored to have him as a member of our tribe.  He writes at Max Meunier Dissocative Void

Stoned Miles-Max Meunier/Dissociative Void

Max Meunier

ashes eschewed

usher fall underfoot

the remnants

of endless days

gray

and despondent

shuttered

i no longer see

the trees taper

impressions

once flourishing

thought, sound, and feeling

flashing

in shrill peals

a tale stowed surreally

stolen

by flickering

madness

eluding

strangely retold

in a cold, bleak immersion

hours burned frigid

of infernal mind

rue forms a sordid soot

of the soul’s toiling

inward it folds

fueling lucifer’s fire

solitude broods

failures born of inaction

on mattresses

barren

time-worn

and forgotten

mottled

with mildewed crumbs

bones for a pillow

the contrast stings anguish

shone stark

with such loss

beyond even nightfall

its poignancy stretches

these truths

weep beside me

framed by the faint gloaming

the autumn dawn

breaches

as ardent

claims feigning

to never have cared

but the silence

she already knows

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Transcending-Max Meunier/Dissociative Void

we dream

to die

in this ring

of death

breathing in

our own entropy

like drunken druids

sinking past

the florid infirm

as floor

turns to fig leaf

and celestite settles

no more

shall we fret


Max states: “I write about the things going on in my life. I am a feminist, humanist, cat loving musician bound by whimsy and the incessant analysis of hyper-vigilant observations.  I am obsessed with words and rhythmically woven wordplay.” We are honored to have him as a member of our tribe.  He writes at Max Meunier Dissocative Void