BLUE MORPHO

Blue Morpho Poem


NIGHT KILLER

NIGHT is a mushy killer of

daylight whose victim

destroys shadows flattened

entities felled by object(ions)

-(prison splits minds, you)-

AND

a dreamy jury listens -!-

DAYlight rises vampirically like

the first felled Angel /(that

holy golden blood nourished it’s

first victim called

in

som

nia //.\\ )    in  a  world  that

continuously dreams.

:: 07-16-2018 ::


NOTHING GOES HERE

[nothing goes here] YEAH go on a

bastardSLAP bang )OOPS(

that year a salty tear fell

cascaded down my brown THIGH-eye

know my weakness is bad relationSHIPS

leaving every port where my heart

)OOPS( drowns. The worst Broadway

play axed half in wholes like

Picassoic strokes —do i hate it—

\\trickytricksterfuchsakes//

Y )OOPS( ES
of course.

:: 07-16-2018 ::


CONTOURS

THE contour of a

popped kernel

Slipped into my mind

as a silliest

th ought popcorn

pops is a mean guy

who viciously beat

the woman who loves

me. i like eating

popcorn but hate

pops.

MY kernal of #truth!

:: 07-16-2018 ::


THE MESSAGE


ALPHA BETS

wakes up at miserable

NEEDS-TIME a stumbling poet/every

step a letter – BUMPcrashing

fumbling into E; dangerous letter

as a spike like F;
C so smooth like a soft chair;
X to prostrate oneself a C R O S S;
B squishy boobies like Aunt Olga
who lost her secrets within a
dilapidated lie.

Alpha bets are big winners
and sometimes sore losers.

If i could have a word with you
i would use all alpha bets to
just express my imaginary world.

Then. Love?
Never mind—i always
lose that bet.

:: 07-16-2018 ::


FOUR BROkeN NiGHts

FOUR broken nights i am your fool

For broken Cupid knees suffering

{ b r o k e n. Behind my friend fear }

the devil in the forest bathing

as the doe licking dew

and politicians at the end of a rope

AND religion too

are about four broken nights

having bled their swollen days like pigs

Committing to breakfast bacon

And hens by eggs only

so-so!

:: 07-14-2018 ::


BooK FARMS

i’m not g a y but y o u. ARE beautiful

&. y e l l o w s walk by

on two pink sticks ______hunched black

cowboy hats shoot
#Shooting Stars#

AND booked worms abused by Mr. Jones

of Manor Farm are bet’er than

book
______
managers

in brick and mortar.

:: 07- 14-2018 ::


EMBER TOMB’D WALLS

i recall the times so long ago
calling you until i lost
count oh…

all the falling tears
of a thousand years
and more

so sick so dead so sit
there and bleed some more
while i stab

memories of what-was
what-has has-been so sick

pushing against ember-tomb’d
walls encased unspoken dreams
i scream my heart out __
you dreeeeeam fondling
broken protocol

I know (we’re fools)
that time’s a school
stuck in now forward go
reverse the must of
fucking can’t do

ember tomb’d
ember’d room
sap a glue
encasing you

and all the tears
of a thousand years
and more

:: 07-14-2018 ::


BIG ROOMS

A new day. When i buried you.
i found love within me by
the warmest touch Of my heart
i have grown. By the things
over ‘there’ there now.
AND Largest walls hide
hammered nails so lost.
A new shape from the deepest
inkwell || well now ||
we are on our own.

And Poets never grow up
WE GROW BIG ROOMS.

:: 07-10-2018 ::