The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Dark Velvet Journey

Exhale to let the colors resume their flight
freed from their eyecage dalliance to scatter
off of the myriad ripplings of the horizon forming,
time fracturing like conchoidal spirals of obsidian
yielding to the tectonics of vinyl crackling
under the sapphire stylus of a lost soul wandering
with stolen purpose and a borrowed world view
forming minions out of stellar clay 
gathered along the elliptical way beyond the
outer bands of red ejecta cooling 
on the tips of crushed strings carded to that
virgin felt upon which our star skate blade slices
through the firmament with voluptuous curves
unstubbled by the detritus of barnacle chew
lone sumi brush bristle glides in the slick 
of solitary perfection crystalizing the
unquenched heartsong into a damascene blade
upon which the diaphanous will fall from the
womb to commemorate the unchartered flight
of those who have no patience for rebellion.
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