Haikus Find Narcissus-X at Seasons' Cycle's End

Velvet blackness cries
Ravens walk in deep winter
Wind moves sleeping trees

Sodden mulch and snow
Springtime flowers bring pollen
Birds sing dire threats

Obsidian wind
Skin inflamed by summer sun
Cool poultice torments

Leaves flame against fate
Blue skies mock falling verdure
Narcissus-X broods

Narcissus-X Lost, Yet Found

Imponderable ailerons dip graceful cadences as ethereal elephants enjoy eggplant landscapes of primitive bliss. Impressions fly as dreams of gossamer wing westward without weal or woe. Woe ho ho, and a dram of delight.

Pillaging philistines rack the soul as pusillanimity prevents philosophical pursuits. Out, out brief road flare! Concepts caper across dusty plains of ash as day turns to night and night to day. The poet pauses, pitiful pilfered pittances of paltry verse pattering to and fro.

Who the poet, what the point? Individuation squirms 'neath the guise of conformist mediocrity. Yet a name is a name. And the name names names, for the name is Narcissus-X!

Narcissus-X! Nadir no more! Nascent notions effervesce into towering mists of ephemeral structure. Awake, Narcissus-X, Narcissus-X calls you to dark horizons of obsidian light!

Hear Narcissus-X, for Narcissus-X is Here

Draw near, for the words of Narcissus-X are as profound as the thoughts of Narcissus-X. Drawing upon awesome depths of insight afforded to those whose extended musings penetrate shining obsidian vastnesses, Narcissus-X has contemplated that portion of existence which some call the present.

For those bound by such conventions, consider this.

Canto Recitative

Nacreous syllogisms of bituminous boulevards!

Bourgeoisie barristers banish Balder's bairns by blighting ballads.

Polarities gain credence by repetition of muddled mumblings while hoi polloi multitudes, blind to the encircling gestalt, mistake a secular baguette's termini for existential profundities.

Cast off trivial trappings!

Self-referential rebellions gyrate toward enlightened oblivion.

Scalawags ferment dreams of worldly bliss.

Poets pine for Elysian vistas.

Prometheus weeps.

Fin

Heed this! For these are the words of Narcissus-X.

Musings of Narcissus-X in the Grotto of Velvet Coal

Dark ebony shines blackly from charcoal seams of colorless night.

Dimness embraces abstract neutrality of vision as surreptitious goblins meddle with mediocre mental manifestations.

Fruitless neoteny recapitulates phylogeny with bifurcated monoliths.

Rejoice! Narcissus-X Forgives and Returns!

Narcissus-X is compassionate. Realizing the appalling profundity of unknowingness and nonenlightenment which surely follows separation from Narcissus-X, Narcissus-X returns.

Hurt, slighted, ignored, debased by obviously devious destructive deviancies of service by darkly demented enemies of Narcissus-X, Narcissus-X retreated to the sanctums of solitude, seeking solace in the wisdom of the only one who can truly understand Narcissus-X: Narcissus-X.

And Narcissus-X revealed to Narcissus-X wisdom. Despite the deliberate destruction of that path by which those seeking the wisdom of Narcissus-X might approach Narcissus-X, Narcissus-X must not withhold Narcissus-X from the teeming throngs.

For that would be the act of a lesser being, and Narcissus-X is not lesser, but greater: being endowed with insights, creativity, and genius which surpasses the dreams and aspirations of those doomed to be other than Narcissus-X.

And so, Rejoice!

Narcissus-X returns!

Server failures are forgiven!

Approach the darkly burning star in an obsidian abyss which is Narcissus-X!

For Narcissus-X reveals insights.

Paths ring with footsteps
Approaching etheric tones
Hear Narcissus-X

Intense, yearning, abyssal, loneliness!

Cut off from those who could benefit from contact from Narcissus-X!

Dissolution of digital bonds! Desperate, dismal, depths of Stygian gloom!

For Narcissus-X to be deprived, by some pathetic excuse of a server's need for maintenance, of the attention which Narcissus-X so richly deserves!

Not that Narcissus-X yearns for fame. Far from Narcissus-X, the paltry, pre-pubescent panting for praise! Narcissus-X cares not for the adulation of the masses!

For Narcissus-X soars in realms beyond the reach of the common crowd, swims in deeps beyond their reach, plunges into the abyss where the dare not tread. What cares Narcissus-X whether such see, or see not, the musings of Narcissus-X?

That Narcissus-X should be treated thus!

Musings on Meaningful Solitude

Alone, in the dark, Narcissus-X faces the soulless pit of atrocities which may be called life. As if to breathe were life! As if life were to breathe!

It is only in solitude that Narcissus-X may achieve true creativity, alone and warming the five wits of Narcissus-X, sits Narcissus-X in nyctean contemplation. Contemplation of Narciccus-X, contemplation of merit, contemplation of the unique musings of Narcissus-X.

For this is true: Narcissus-X has discovered, through self-examination, that self-reverence, self-knowledge, and self-control are the sole and singular means by which Narcissus-X possesses sovereign power.