With age the vine grows sweeter
but some liquor even sooner
a gallant soul to mix
produce potent spirits
:: 02-14-2014 ::
With age the vine grows sweeter
but some liquor even sooner
a gallant soul to mix
produce potent spirits
:: 02-14-2014 ::
When we first
open the book
of life —
tis a mystery novel
and looking back
after time —
a catalogue of memories
:: 02-14-2014 ::
IN a dream there I went
at first thought —
i must awake surely now
for i found myself inside
another skin
curiously i watched
as a mouse in a corner
imperative do no harm
then revolt consumed
decency for i knew
just a parasite i was
great haste leaving —
i left the scene
and awoke as a criminal
:: 02-14-2014 ::
in my sane sanitarium bees gathering
o’er some ocean skinless creature
a burrow knee deep but vastly so
i sometime gather some piece or bits
this — an hour glass shaped thought
finely falling nexus-falls between me
why surreal-lie squashing all i do
and darkness — what of it
:: 02-13-2014 ::
so became my friend who offered my life
beneath the shade of elephant eye
the brownest emotion of nature’s side
sahara knew me very well — she feels
baking the skin of back from olive
to black i love her fields
two nights before the feather fell
the light accord
my fair-weather dear
tonight i run to fetch my meal
quickly-swiftly upon death’s heel
:: 02-13-2014 ::