FOREWARD:  THE WERELINGS

WHEN sun opens the skies above so opens my dreams –>  open greens
like children’s eyes :  all to be revealed.  

As where summer’s beside their secret glories sleep
oh flowing downward if they’ll or righteously flow
so(armies of enemies fighting like adults reveals)  will fall

this. that.  a(t) least dare and not a word to relate
of seasons is nothing but herself flustered in pain.
oooooh.

An open closet within the child’s room:  bombed by society’s war;
‘s gulped by fear –> and never knew ghosts who hold
the hands of the living________ whom cannot kill but give life.
As each, c umbs of our Now) oooooooh      yeeeeeeah
twiceauponatime we met the willbeus and the desert streams
of desert sands | kissing the angel of Imagination.

Werelings.  

:: 06.28.2021 ::


A REPUBLIC NATION BLEEDING

MIND is summer days within white apples blue pills by society that prescribes law
and if you go asking neighbors they hide from thinking words
— stay small says government and do nothing at all –>
BECOME ours.

And if you go chasing freedom they will come after you
:::::: first freedom of thought then votes and body.
the womb already lost.
And the last ones with no eyes at all:
less than small creatures.
“I promise you’ll fall” they sing.
When men are women and women are less…
when generals wear pink tails — and
subjective logic and UCMJ then the
world turns upon it’s head — REMEMBER
what America means. What the world
knew. Go ASK NATIONS how far you fell
and say we knew nothing at all — oh
the call: soul and spirit upon chessboard
and knight moved but queen called.
I THINK YOU KNOW. WHEN PROPORTION
MEETS THE TALKING BACKWARD CONGRESS.

FEED YOUR HEAD
feed your head.

:: 09.16.2021 ::


13,000 POEMS

Today I wrote my 13,000th poem.
I have no idea what it means but do know I might be mentally ill.
Yes, I believe that’s it.


A HUNDRED POEMS – LIV(ODE TO ETUDES OP. 25, NO. 12 IN C MINOR (CHOPIN))

Passion where is thy heavenly gift ?
Beg I do for pastures of romance &
love thee — my angel follow me too in
Kindness — compassion for all thy life
Understandings; wisdom from burning fire
Heaven thou, dream I giveth prayer to
Love is thy reason for living life
and desires for love escapes thy flesh
afire angelic wings kissing devil’s lips
a Christ-passion for all high and low

:: 04-29-2014 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – LXVI

I think today I broke a word within my ignorance!
I did the deed within my garden to stab with spade
upon a letter within the soil where lay the bee!
And in my haste I slay she
and shouted in thunder:
‘Oh! It cannot BE!’


THE WATER’S TENDER SURFACE HIDES HORROR

DEAD are these fathom of times by change; lies
of not tongue but heart, nay, soul as dead coral made
as now ocean die and her pearls wilt and destroyed
by poison of mankind.
All fades by that terrible hand called Mankind.
As doth suffer the sea-change
uncoiled and spoiled by rich and strange.
 Sea-nymphs SCREAM in tumultuous toil
singing, “DING-DONG.
LISTEN!  HEAR WORLD — DEATH!”

:: 09.15.2021 ::


EORUM ULTIMUM PRAEDIUM IN LACRIMIS

[exactio! quis hoc potest amare poetam?
Hospes in coelis et cruentis vita?
Conferre verba inter Deum commutatio –
angeli et homines?”\]
Quomodo corpus eius in scuris finietur?
et parva loca — Palida, rigida, nuda!
Ita ioca! Facio eos! Ah! Ego quando
Audite, angeli isti loquuntur! Ha! Ones
qui divina tabernacula ad hanc petram
dicta Terra! Meos amicos super
hoc argilla! Nihil omnino!
Quomodo ausi sunt! Relicto egregie
lux viva in obscurioribus regionibus.
Quam tellus ignota ferat, nunc eris
alam tuam fugam longinquam?
Anxius et inanis est, sed potest audire et videre
expalluit humanitas, expalluit;
et forlon!

:: 09.15.2021 ::


SPEAKING TO MYSELF (part 03)

Goodnight my angel and so it’s time to close your eyes…

Everything but the head, where she is still touched by the forehead of a stranger, from one of the corridors, one of the cracked doors, where her
lovers walk, from the stones and shadows of cold halls, the one that is lifted from the depths of a world of books. You only exist, my love,
with the touch of your palms.

From behind my childhood wall, I have met the daughters of stars, from behind my own walls, the girl that lives in the corridor, has warmed up my life,
there with me on the cold polished floor, my passion.

Everything is there, hidden in the dark depths, revealed by the hallway, the fading curtain of candles, the evening light, a kind of passionate romance,
my love, whose bones are growing every day as if they were long-dead, those young girls, the memory of the last night, the abandoned street,
the shadow of an old bed, a memory of the night that passed, but only lives in the room where I am lying.


GENTLE BUBBLES

LOVE blows gentle bubbles of yearning despair
untouchable world-like systems within the brain
— beauty and horror //love and hate\\ under woe
and then up grows green and flowers of romance

THE PLEASURE AND PAIN

(THAT one hides whilst the other shows itself hiding)
how both show nature: that a rabbit in fear still
enjoys love and life although burrowed.

comes here a man. carrying fear and brute — a woman?
by love and tender skin her tongue and heart.

she’ll spin that spirit and by eyes assuage the beast.

:: 09.15.2029 ::


REVERIE

O it’s so fine to Get Up from resting a night
upon her white bossom!
— of her now dead but once beating heart.
Yesterdays i do remember when the sun came up
and tomorrow’s were yesterday’s thoughts. Oh I
grieve now(with romantic phrasing that could never
ever capture that moment of pure love) death is not living
but death surely is remembering.

AND how angels stretch
their undying necks/ remembering what mortals call moments.

cosmic love giggles.

But i am still unborn. Less than a fetus of cosmic life.

Today is a long memory from birth to now. And I have learned
very little.

Forgive me.

:: 09.15.2021 ::


THE BEAUTIFUL HORROR OF LIVING LIFE

Mom how i love you and I am so sorry
that life was so hard — part by you
another by people:

i saw the horror when i tried to help
you but the two men were grown and I
was just a boy & they raped you
— it broke my heart. (them: too strong)
I never turned away but felt i should look
at the world to discover love.

And how you sceamed for me to run away
and hide — OH never mother i’D RATHER DIE.

I had a vision of a Life I’m living and
how so many people turned away from this
film of pain. I grew up upon a dragonfly
and we flew away ——————-

The water was blue the whales singing blues
and i climbed out of my head and went toward
the coffee beans. I told the people: i have
nothing to say but something spoke / i went
into a dream \ and now we talk about history.

God only Knows What I’d Do without you —
then you died. June 2021. I miss you.

:: 09.15.2021 ::