The Surreal Token


In fields danced
The howling tornadoes
Where did we go?
A voice wearied from
The dark censored hosts

Feeling old, pills were taken
And laughter misplaced,
Into the Samaras box,
Of the museum floor

As moles dream,
Be the world
Be the king
Ruling time’s
Borrowed tempo

Disordered grandeur
A shrouded relief
From the subjective
Neglected overcrusted
And ignored lint
Covered floors,
To slip on
For divorce is conjured,
Only in the tempest’s mind

What lies ahead?
A tunnel out,
To our 21st century
A layered forest
Of fordite trees
Where you cut off
A piece to keep,
To heal as your
Modern token

Walkin towards
A rosette memory,
Beamin an old song,
From afar,
That you wrote
Underneath a point
Above the dipper
Your veins were a freezin…
“With all the colors in the room,
Why did your’s have to be blue?”

For: Ben
Words: Nara
Art: Lucas Samaras


11 thoughts on “The Surreal Token

  1. Mark Ryan says:

    I love ‘For divorce is conjured, only in the tempestโ€™s mind’ Beautifully tragic. The whole piece reads like a candy box of treasures, rummaging around in the wooden casket to see what shiny things we come across next. Excellently written and weaved together…this is why you are so talented! Great work.

    Liked by 1 person

      • Mark Ryan says:

        The best work sometimes comes from dreams. i’m loving the web of words.Is the friendship still active, or does it need rekindling?

        Liked by 1 person

      • Agree! Yum, not really active anymore. He was my first boyfriend when we were teens. And our senior year he became/is my little brother’s best friend. Recently, he has been going through difficult situations.


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