Daily Archives: April 25, 2014


time, that illusion
it’s cousin – motion
neither exists
beyond human eyes
— all is static
never changing
just a unified field
and universal
watching rapid flickers
of death-rebirth

:: 04-22-2014 ::


did you see!  my kiss
in that breeze
maybe you saw
a butterfly-heart
wet and brilliant
flutter by
flutter heart
what season of love
my sun-bliss kiss
upon tiny lips
tulips to kiss!
that butterfly heart
a summer’s dream too

:: 04-22-2014 ::


How long
can a dove’s
feather survive
within a furnace
and what of
that first kiss
does it still
press upon your
what love exists
if not in time
forever imprinted
upon the heart
and if time ceased
would all love
cascade down
into your velvet
pocket of passion
and would slender
fingers nimbly touch
the lost love
of time’s passing
passion — never dies

:: 04-22-2014 ::


life is a stranger in boots
snake skin patterns moving
through wet night streets
and that blooming howl
on Bourbon Street cuts through
what’s left of your dark soul
Jazz notes falling into pieces
across reflective night streets
And when you’re strangely happy
you know you’re snake skin too
And when you’re deranged beneath
moss trees on a pirogue floating
a night spent in LaLaurie Mansion
will make the best
of other-worldly friends
life is a stranger in boots
and snake patterns know the moves
a cascading undulating twist
through Mississippi mud too
Marie Delphine LaLaurie loves you
She will invite you to stay a night
and that slave you become is ghostly
a torture for a slice of social life
And the mobs outraged == she fled
or maybe not…the moss knows

:: 04-22-2014 ::


plastic falling pieces
into ember-tear drops
and those tree roots
pulling at my leaf-heart
there’s a fire burning
devouring all I see
I could cry like a crow
but my spirit’d rather soar
and people dance and trip
across the blink of an eye
a measure of their life
less than a yawn from nature
and plastic falling pieces
never shatter when they fall
only leaving psychedelic patterns
all across my mind
but I love to walk in a rain
made of broken sharp shards
of blue stained glass

:: 04-24-2014 ::


what longing within
your eyes
a tender sweet belief
I see
a gaze across what is
and what
could always be
and lips apart
a slow hand moves
across a breast
a touch of your heart
that which you always give
that brilliant love
which is, but how can it be
in this shadow-world today

dear angel soul-woman
what desires you have
focus upon this man
I am just
a human animal
and not worthy     of more
a man that just grazes
in the fields of madness
learned for sure but so
and surely not enough
to even hold

your tender hand

:: 04-24-2014 ::