tHe cRoSsWoRds

Are you scared to read me?

To undress me with your 

e

y

e

s

with each word

your brain scans,

slowly pinching your 

f

i

numb

g

e

in between your 

t

e

electric

t

h,

kneecaps clinched but

h

e

always

r

t

open?

.

(Life gets harder – the up,)

(down, and lefts of right)

.

Are you nervous about 

j

u

d

gradually

i

n

me, 

sentence by

e

n

t

e

n

c

e,

as you

b

u

ravage

a hole through me

with silent, coarse, 

j

a

g

goading

e

d thoughts

and finger slides!

.

(like fresh, smelly asphalt)

(being steamrolled by time,)

.

What are you 

s

c

about?

r

e

of and why?

.

(trampled by nature,)

(weather-beaten by elements,)

.

What makes you so

n

e

r

vulnerable?

o

u

serious?

.

(abused by people,)

(searched by strangers,) 

.

What is there to

u

n

deny?

e

resist?

s

t

attack?

n

d

, or not,

when it comes to

me

e

and

n

d

you

o

u

and

n

d

what

e

share here,

not by

a

c

chance…

i

d

e

n

t

but

y

design?

.

(explored by lovers,)

(consumed by addicts,)

.

Why make an

e

a

s

y

thing

d

i

flash

forward

i

c

u

l

t

when everything can

or could be so

s

i

maybe?

p

l

e?

.

(adored by true artisans,)

(revered by no one,)

.

I thought I was

L

o

s

infer

n

g

my mind, but

maybe

but, mind my

L

o

s

imply

n

g

was I thought I?

.

(until nothing remains)

(and all is finally lost,)

.

This is not a

h

one-time

a

x

or a 

j

one-time

k

e

even though

we could all use a

s

m

one-time

k

e

or a

c

one-time

a

x

from 

time to 

i

m

e, 

from a

perfectly placed

e

r

soul

o

n

and be able to lay

our head on their

s

h

o

uncovered

lap

d

e

r

without feeling guilty.

.

(like poor man’s crumbs,)

(a homeless man’s shoes,)

.

If no man knows 

w

h

I

c

h

way the

i

n

d

blows,

when will the right man

s

t

o

p

and 

watch to see 

h

i

c

way her hair blows in that same

i

n

d

so he might 

f

i

n

direction if there is any to

i

s

c

openly.

v

e

r?

.

(a loose woman’s dedication,)

(a sly man’s body language,)

.

Some people 

b

e

lies

i

e

v

in pure, blind

l

u

c

k

never knowing that

s

o

mysterious

e

t

h

i

n

grander,

with purpose, was

a

t

challenging

h

i

n

g them

since the day they 

w

e

re born, guiding them

w

i

t

h

shaky but firm hands.

.

(a drunk man’s wisdom,)

(a perfect woman’s flaw,)

.

S

o

m

e

body

once told me 

that I

o

o

k

their breath away 

and that

u

n

nerved me

b

e

c

a

understandable

s

e I

wanted to 

give more

o

x

y

generously

e

n

than I took away and

b

e

cause I 

honestly

c

a

realistically

e

d

more than I probably should have,

no offense or

f

a

u

l

to you or anyone else who is

r

e

a

dissecting

ingesting

n

g

this scattered passage.

.

(everyones imperfect perfection,)

(time always ticking, never stopping.)

.

Never mistake

e

r

v

e

for its counterpart,

n

a

ignorance

v

i

t

y

because, once you do,

p

a

solitude

saftey

i

o

n

will slowly turn into

p

l

e

a

selfishness

u

r

e,

and, like always,

you start to lose

o

u

r

self when you were supposed to find

y

o

u

r

self while learning to love the

y

o

u

that makes 

y

o

u o y.

.

(Words, the language of lovers,)

(the alchemy of gifted writers who)

.

Do you see the

w

o

r

d

that are

h

e

r

e,

as well as the

o

n

e

s

that are not

s

u

perfectly

placed

o

s

e

to be?

.

(take time to combine and craft)

(sense from the nonsense)

.

You

o

u

see what

you

o

u

want to

s

e

e!

.

(or vice se versa, while living)

(constantly on a lonely, blank page,)

.

You

o

u

read what

you

o

u

want to

r

e

a

d!

.

(filling our thirsty pens with)

(blood, tears, and tiredness,)

.

Why

h

y

are

r

e

you

o

u

still

t

i

l

l

here

e

r

e

if you 

feel the

e

e

l

illicit

n

g

s

that you consume

as you let my

words

a

s

h

away your tired 

composure

with my

t

h

i

never-ending

k

implicit

n

g?

.

(breathing between the spaces,)

(resting after the punctuation,)

.

Is

t

the

words,

or

is

t

me?

.

(wondering if there is anywhere)

(else to go that we haven’t been.)

.

B

e

thinking

t

e

r

yet!

.

(A lonesome journey.)

(A worthy cause.)

.

Is

t

an equally

m

y

s

t

e

rigid

inceptual

o

u

s

combination of both 

of

those

h

i

n

g

s?

.

(Constantly being driven over,)

(sometimes never noticed until)

.

You

o

u

tell

e

l

l

me

e!

.

(a rut finally appears in the freshness,)

(you trying your best to dodge it.) 

.

Did

i

d

you

o

u

find

i

n

d

all the words, 

or did they 

f

i

n

d

you and

o

u

eyes like a hidden

glyph on a

a

r

k

cave wall?

.

(A blessing to know words so well,)

(a curse they know you likewise.)

.

Answers

l

w

a

y

seem

to exist where

we

a

n

to see

h

e

m,

our perception changing

v

e

r

time until our

i

r

e

d

eyes are bored of 

o

o

keenly

i

n

g

for them, 

so we start

i

g

n

o

repetitively

i

n

them until

h

e

day approaches

when we realize it

a

s

n’

the

words we

e

r

e

looking for

but a

t

t

e

r

voice to speak with.

.

(Each letter, perfectly placed there)

(by me, for you, for us to enjoy.)

.

Instead of

o

u

t

d

o

i

n

g

yourself,

how about you

u

n

d

o

yourself and who

o

u o y

were always meant 

to be!

.

(The tickings of keys sounding)

(like the tockings of a clock.)

.

Crosswords

r

o

swords

s

words

o

r

d

swoon both

me

e

and

you

o

until the

lovers

i

f

e

is no more!

.

(The second hand being)

(the strings of our heart.)

.

Going to the edge and back, one word at a time!

Vernon Herring

* * * * * * * * * *

Personal Playlist Jam below – Enjoy!

And when you see yourself in a crowded room
Do your fingers itch, are you pistol-whipped?
Will you step in line or release the glitch?
Do you think she’ll sleep with the panic?

I’m waiting and fading and floating away
Waiting and fading and floating away
Waiting and fading and floating away
Waiting and fading and floating

* * * * * * * * * *

2 Replies to “tHe cRoSsWoRds”

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