Finding Calvin Pt. V – IV - L’Ego, mon Ego

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Finding Calvin Pt. V – IV - L’Ego, mon Ego

Past Circe’d greebling
He reconfitted
But with his weaving
He felt un-pitted
Now on slated
And concealment lifted
A provocation
Another visit

But in his visage
It was no misses
A clenching toddler
With midnight witness
And through his tottered
And through betwixting
He pinched the owl
A prophet’s minting

For past pine’ d facings
Mandiculating
Topsy-turveyed

It clenched frustrating
But Janus-facing
The Okame’d baby
Held six degrees
To Calvin baking

Though momentary
And disappearing
It cruciated
Subliminal layerings
Past aprophenia
And incohering
A martyred Maria
A master mirroring

An ignormaus

A sheep he’s sheering
A Judas goat
A query not querying
He broadens his scope
Panoramically leering
An identical foe
100 yards he’s peering

For under the umberage’d

Some mimic or demon

That brandished ram’s wool

And the spear he was squeezing

As Calvin honed it honed

So there was no way to deem it

But as Calvin reached for a rock

The mimic’d bluffed before weaving
(Because there were no rocks where the mimic mimic’d)

Calvin prepared for an encounter

But the mimic quickly vanished

Beyond the varied arbored

Where many stood highly vantage’d

Aft the cobble’d stone rustled

And Calvin intuitively managed

Like an eagle spreading its wings (?)

Atop the Eiffe’d in Paris

For with his topped torso

Bending with spear aptly planted

Phalanx’ing armpitting and elbow

He found the on-rusher’s larynx

Still just with back exposed

And one eye for the gauging

The last containermates froze

As there was none for the taking

So faster than a stone’s throw

Into the near-abridged shading

But the shadowed pine cones

Hid the unknown decollating

Was it a friend or a foe

Was it something for feeding

Was it his glowering host

Was it the reason he’s keeping

Finally reaching the castle

And its preceding open clearing

Footing the earth-embattled

A Roman feat of engineering

The wedging’s furlong’ing furloughed

And times ten for the weaving

Beyond its debarked overgrown

He kept to the kempt sunlit preening

Suddenly a far-off horn blow

Crowning the threshold for believing

As an above red stag abello’d

Foreshadowing barbican’d leanings

Reaching the densely stacked stone

And the gatehouse absent gleaming

He peered the lancet semicircles

Crescent’ing beyond his sight’s ceiling

Stumbling on a side door of strong Oak
Sturdy but aged with weathered impittings
He wedged his spear where the butt-jointed crowed
Using his farmer’s strength and spear as a jimmy

Warily entering the mural artichoke’d
He ventured forth toward the gothic red nascing
That glimmered upon his hunter’s pole
And murder holes found above and adjacing

There was a silence unbespoke’d
An intent only further emanating
Following quavered rustles to and fro
Concealing for an Adorno’d unsheathing

Suddenly a distorted undertone
A mocking malevolence self-betraying
As Calvin’s recollections would be unstowed
Refracted and reverberated for the reframing

 "isn't that your mascot?" (Sarah, Powder Privilege) 

“A lizard found in a king's palace?" (Wellington, A Trans Blend)

“but I think, more than likely, he is retarded” (Xao,The Rise)

"We should Baker act him" (Sarah, power privilege)

“Shh...perhaps one greater than Paul is now here” (Derivation, Bloom Twice)

Calvin knew he could not waffle
Amid the demonic pancaking
For through was his only hope
Among the sunlit masticating

The impish snickering died down
Then a strangled Cthonic muffling
An eminence only further pronounced

By the knavish precedings of lesser beings

Suddenly a voice accented and sotto’d...

“I like to play games too” (Lamington, True Blue)