Daily Archives: January 11, 2023

A Hundred Poems Xi

Does tragedy desire love
this I think
and know
a loss of one in life
that the flesh lives
but the love die

Does tragedy desire love

yes it does and upon a petal
that dark black rose grows
within the dye of dry soil i know _ it is
something how she moves like
no other woman /and now i need
no other Lover –> within her style
and how she smiles is how i know

:: 03-23-2014 ::
Rev: 06-215-2018
Rev: 01.10.2023 ::


Everything is Art

EVERYTHING IS A R T
AND LOVE IS ENERGY
AND TEARS ARE SOAKING
MY THROAT AND TOMORROW
I AM EVERYTHING

:: 01.10.2023 ::


About Poets and Words and Emotions

|| EACH poem is not for words
nor for hanging portraits
upon the eye~ but a lesson:
the emotions are greater than any
angle-STACKED font-bite BEING
between the covers of a booKLife

It is EMOTION and not words
that poets express to the world ||

:: 07-10-2015 ::


The Fire Gods

While men defied the dwelling
of gods in higher hills
Macchu Picchu had her
gateway to a star within
the skies ~ hoping one
plus one equaled two
until the evil one sleeps
the begining of humanity
was the pink one ; a pensive
flower of this World that no
creature could ever experience
and live but you do ~~~ LIVE.

:: 01.10.2023 ::


G O V E R N M E N T

WHEN the people have a government
that thinks they’re content
but the people are struggling
the government thinks it permanent
and some live and some die
from Heaven came the voice
“Some Live Some Die.”
IF there’s a point of defence
ghosts and other spirits feel
jacked by this society
the world was a world where
they loved Mankind but not now.
i Kissed Eve in Paradise
i gave all my children to the
War forgotten by Time.

Peace.

:: 01.10.2023 ::


A Song of Confusion

living is a song of confusion
for the paradise sound
if you take myself then know
you take my kiss in no wrong
my days have been a dream
flown away by night and day
Upon my brow imparting from
you know : i was not a daze
but my life a dream as my
hope flew away as a wish
holding a tender kind hand
All we see all we feel
is by Spirit against a roar
and holding within my hand
the precious few who touched
my heart, oh my life while
i weep! Is all that we see
or seem but a dream within
a dream?

:: 01.10.2023 ::

the last 3 sentences are
of Mr. E. A. Poe


Between Night and Dawn

Between night and dawn
the moon sings for tired flowers
from a last breath
death rattles as though
life is beaten
Spoken words to the dying
burst forth as first joys
relating similar circumstances
are the words clutched by the
dying night ~ bleeding into a
crimson horizon of sunlight
between night and dawn is
death and resurrection.

:: 01.10.2023 ::