Daily Archives: April 13, 2014

FLOWERS

THE human heart

is ROMANTIC

but a FLOWER

has never waged

A WORLD WAR


RED RUBY STONES

Mustang running wild
that bison bearded man
a hoof cutting dirt
Marshal man badge gun
stars singing victory
a liberty tree fed blood
Cities of the dead ringing
screaming chants of love

La la la la my dear souls

I look through your illusion
and smell death and fear
I sing a tome of the ages
and the things souls know
and the cities sleep deep
The countryside is full
of dying flesh and fear
tonight apocalypse dances
unprepared does an act
and the herd of clouds
move above as always
tonight skies rain tears
red ruby stones kidney

:: 04-11-2014 ::


A FLOWER

A flower born
in a field of thorns
so soft her petals
against such strief
her stem so stiff
velvet voice speak
a purple bulb deep
planted for the season
She is my Queen Bee
strong nature lover
You are what a man needs
A Grand flower to love

:: 04-12-2014 ::


SEASON’S PASS

I gave you my body

what more do you want?

A season’s pass

through my kitchen?

 


A WEEPING LIE

A weeping lie
deserves
no compassion
best just let
it quickly die

:: 04-13-2014 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – 051

TODAY I saw creation
in that act of submission
with my human hands
a crafted answer
—                        did I do
not of God-breath
or cosmic fire-brew
but through a passion
deeply–passion dew
my works of art, live!
a life longer than my own
my love, to you I give
what is love if not art

:: 04-13-2014 ::


NATURE’S GRACE

Let today be
that grand affair
of unrelenting love
between spirit
and nature’s grace

:: 04-13-2014 ::


TINY SLICE

A tiny slice
of quietness
just a slither
upon my plate
— too small
for most to
see
is all I need
that my soul
and spirit
requires

:: 04-13-2014 ::


COSMOS

EACH soul
a cosmos
love-making
u n i v e r s e
kissing-licking
c r e a t i o n s
crying-dying
singing-laughing
an explosion
of expression
s u p e r n o v a
p a s s i o n !

:: 04-13-2014 ::


HONEY DEW

and when honey dew
simply
drips away
that crack from fear
too small
to see
but hate and anger
fought that stage —
I am left
with sad
speckled nest-less
eggs
in tender hands
If a plant, from tears
they would grow
but now, wingless
lovely eggs to bed
I bury you in dreams

:: 04-13-2014 ::