Monthly Archives: July 2022

After Life Services

[Everything…Everything…Every Sense…]

Beautiful canvas beautiful skin
arrested smiles
burgeoning love
seeping into me

oh, come on, karma talk
like a french lover:

“La vie est une fleur dont l’amour est le miel.”

| Life is a flower of which love is the honey
and it is making me feel ill and cloudy. |

Is this what we lovers get? Is this what lonely
hearts feel when we mix love with art?

Oh, come on, please.
Karma is not enough
i gave it up for camera.

Remembering how i felt most intense pleasure
piercing my heart upon a figural stone shaped
as a monster’s heart.

I messed objects with abstract thoughts
and lost myself which became more real.

and everything and every sense and every thought
tried to devour me within a black throat of fear
and it tried plainly ~~ i use to daydream at night
and paint colors in the darkest thoughts of my
mind; everything oh everywhere and everythis
and everythat |and it tried to eat me |
i woke up believing i was right here now.

Where i threw colors within my head
where i drew deepest fears away
when i was there when you cut me with
your words/i tried to say…i tried to say
tried to say….

Love is everywhere.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Moth Balls In Drawers

LOST dreams slide insensibly toward madness of dreams — you close your eyes
shut your wooden windows to life ~~ your dialated eyes drowing in a violent ocean.

Mister, you forgot your hat but now days no one wears them good day Sir.

Oh, froth from your mouth falls pouring the overflow of your head without moorings
of your paralyzed tongue. How you got me thinking, “wasting my time.”

Outside your heart the citizens of a lost world await tensed up toward your hallucinations.

You let me down.

If we had a world of our own, everything would be nonsense ~~~ so way way down inside

Curiouser and curiouser! Rabbits and Cats oh whoo!

We were fooling then like double death swift dying of mingled breath an evaporation of unknown
strange perfume between souls in a naked room called Love ~~

a telephone.

And still I ask are you the same? How are you feeling? Don’t you realize the things we
talked about like dreams — i’d brush summer by with half my smile so half spurn.

Housewives do, a Fly they do like black magic.

If i look into the skies I could with you within a year. I’d wind months into balls and put them
separted into drawers by centuries, delayed.

Subtracting, wondering why (that you were mine, I was never yours in time-twilight) i’d toss it yonder, like a defunct mind and choose Eternity.

Okay. So you never answered and I let it ring a bit longer.

Like the shadows of forevermore that will not speak, “it stings.”

Oh wap doo duh hop no side dreams between telephone lines.

Oh, hot wax on my third eye it left a mark ~~ it’s how I knew I could have loved you.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Wet Dream

She, laying upon a mattress (upon a beach in her mind)
caressing of two fingers distracted by the voice of the sea
leaving flotsam upon her finger tips; who in spite
of her privacy attracts the enemy.

Moral police approaches, she immobilizes them with her noisy
hand ~~ and the men pull their soul out of their cozy beds
and suck their agony.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Funeral Pyre

A woman confers belief 
within the brilliant Sun
as his heart was golden
to embrace that the world
ate her in a bite
: it dressed him within
a funeral pyre ~!~
a fire of fertilizing serenity.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Vices of Men

Vices of men are my domain.

Their wounds my sweet cakes.

I like to chew their vile penis’
because their ugliness makes my beauty
spectacular and chooses me.

(As the letter continues to spiral
out of control, she writes:)

“Since the dawn of time I’m sure that
no couple has ever lived together
in perfect bliss.

Is it any wonder that men
don’t want me because I know what
their biggest vice is?

And I know their biggest loss…
And I don’t eat their penis’
because it’s gross …

I eat it because I enjoy it.”

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Breaking My Heart

I want to hear your voice in my mind as you claim me.

Claim me.

I want to taste you.

Taste me, too.

I want you to feed me. The power that lies within my mouth is the power I will employ to make you scream.

Scream.

I want to possess you.
I want to bring you to the edge.
But you won’t let me; you’re in a hurry,
so you push me away with your arrogant smirk.

With your arrogant winking as you take another free-hand
with your fingers, ’cause you’re like that.

I want to be on the receiving end.
I want to give it all to you.
I want to be grateful.
I want to regret.
I want to be satisfied.

There you are again wandering through my dreams,
haunting me, making me helpless to resist.

I want to see you again making me wild, shooting through my body.

Letting me know, listening to me scream and cry for more.

I want to feel you again.
I want to own you.
I want to feel your teeth on my breast.
I want to see you again close to my flesh,
your hair piled high in a manner you have perfected.

I want you to have your way.
I want to feel you again.
I want to fuck you once more,
but this time I want you to be mine till the end of time.

I want to savour it. Till the moment we enter my womb
and know, with our blood, that we are a mother and a father
together.

I want to see the vastness of our love in the walls of our home.

I want to see it, know that we are a family.

Until there is nothing more.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Tears No More

Flee from the mountains of sadness, flee from what bleeds with tears, the sea of tears, of which the precious earth frequently raises her skirt to pour out the fire from her heart.

O, when the winds set the sea upon fire and rips apart the garments of the sun, when fearful tides mingle into froth and face the dead corpses of the sea, when the hands of night rend the stars O, then shall I pity men!

Behold, man! Here God shall hearken, and when he hears our prayer, he shall restore both our health and our strength.

Should God restore our health, we shall cast aside the blame of the night’s tears, and the blame of the sea’s lamentations, and weep no more, for we shall be restored to our beloved.

Should he restore our strength, then will our sorrow properly vanish I will not languish in the ocean of tears, nor the barren rocks in the seas of sorrow, for we shall now be given back our health, and our strength, and our health, and love.

Let him restore us now, if he can, to the old climate of joy and the old climate of sorrow, and then I will weep no more, and shall not make this complaint:

that He, that is God, has forgotten us.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Flames

O no, though flames come bowing from heaven,
if my objects should vanish, cool sea’s surrender
should somehow dismember my dreams
my green branches shall grow not over misty mountains,
as clouds that before the wild thunder fly, but rather
within obscuring clouds, where lightning play
is never quick, nor brightness destroys.

O no! I will henceforth think with clarity,
and question with boldness, and speak my love
with courage to match my love: this much i do even
now — Love.

:: 07.05.2022 ::


As Before Then Again

As before then again after marriage
of true hearts / i have given all \
when alters as alteration finds
or disbelieves whilst my heart bleeds
to believe / bends bewildering curves
of thoughts: O no! not as ever-fixed mark
which cut memories across minds…
and Love spent across priceless time
as time is no fool, that youth consumes
unimaginable errors forgotten in age :
to bear it even out into doom___
as scribe’s writ and error proved
i never approved.

:: 07.05.2022 ::


A Hundred Poems – XC – The Art W(h)ORE(E)LD

SOME POSSESS talent
whilst others are possessed by it!

One is a gift and the other potentially
a fatal disease of spirit and soul.

//–//