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Fred Rutherford
Addicted to Thought
Addicted to Thought

Fred's posts

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Fickle Nights Unadorned
Aural pleasures span the
darkest caverns, Unearthing scenes
dispatched to furthest nooks recessed beyond the transcriptions filtered in
mundane, Blind to tumults
spawned by inconvenience spared, the watch spins in sternward approbation,
coveting a valance o...

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Synchronized Utopian Idyll
It was a dynamic
inquisition, Without a single word
misspoken, It was a dynamic
synchronization, Where not a word went
unspoken,                        Inspiration doused me
full,                        Caressed me and kept me
still,                        ...

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Something's Hidden
Away from the wrested stone A jewel etches its image
upon Juxtaposition Where it was and what
it never could Be, to fathom’s length,
I bestow Whistled meanderings,
delivered far, unto A crested portico of
everlasting sights unknown The fantasy’s

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Stasis (Ephemerality)
There is no such thing as
time. Never-ending.   Never-beginning. Always There.   Ever and Ever more. What is now, is also
then and that is also what has been. {Cue the neat opening
credit theme music.   Something that gets
the audience in a particular type ...

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Betrayal of the Dawn

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Long Division

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Of The Eye
Eyes awaken, Right first, then
left, Stardust clinging to
the lashes, Refusing to concede That wondrous moment
was but dream Leaving me alone Comforted only by the
memory That this is all but a part
of reality

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Long Division: Strains Of One
Dainty figurines,
collide-expand Upon the altar,
knotted-stained For which they stand;
warped and dated Like the mores buried,
still, straining to inhale Knee-deep down,
beside, within— The Laundering of time
pronounced, for without Borrowed—procured cerami...

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An Overlay Of Meaning

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