Category Archives: Death

LIVING GHOST OF PAST MEMORIES

NEAR the end of everything
life became more clearer
the whisper became loudly:

i should be laughing
i should be crying
i should be hanging —
up there

so do not come to my grave
because i am still walking
{i am not there]
do not bring me flowers
because i left my heart
beneath a growing garden
(it’s all within my will)

You know that love desires
valleys so deep like an ocean
and the highest of hills
within its swollen rolls
like a mystery mixed in a potion

And   everything is made of love;
like a thousand winds that blow
like a smile it kills the heart’s pain
Unlike the day the world came apart
and    the sun burned out
and    the moon fell down
and    the fire became so cold

So i am dead but still walking;
the living ghost of past memories.

:: 05-31-2018 ::


GOD SAVE THE WORLD

(never should it be the same thing}
I ate the summer sky at night
bending reed and heart
shot the yellow jacket wing
tasted the poison of it’s sting
painted an image of my heart
upon the basin of the Mississippi
and I rode my soul all the way
across the bayou to the City
of Southern sin and drinking
the party that never ends
and I danced with the devil
and sang of Eros and Gomorrah
and god slapped my cheek
daisy faced women cried for me
as they watched my soul sink
back into the mud of the river
that rages within the heart of all
Praise the One who damns us
and the angels weep for all
and I dropped to my knees
wishing I never thought clear
where a world walks in haze
and all mother kill their babies
Is someone going to save us
is anybody going to save the world?
God? devil? Superman?
we need someone who loves
loves the filth of humanity

:: 10-03-2014 ::


DYING PARADISE

A walk though my valley
and even death —
laughs, and snow-shower
— lives disheveled
sparrows
: hope! it’s very small
my delicate dying paradise!

What’s cold to him
makes that thing live
trip, sliding-banking
death, a thing nothing like
twenty-three and living
in a violent paradise

A universe full of motion
and the power of money
hour after every dying hour
watch out where your talking
the devil smiles sodium lamp
— light in my darkened heart

We’re all living in a delicate
situation, a dying paradise
where mothers and fathers too
contemplate skipping life
for that dying paradise

We’re all living, oh yeah
in a world of hurt and pain
We’re all living, hell yes
in a dying paradise!
Where death is nothing but
a heartbeat away and we sing,

“what’s cold to him makes
that thing live, trip, sliding-
banking death, a thing nothing like
twenty-three and living within
a violent paradise!

:: 09-22-2014 ::


A FLOWER’S ODE

Oh, my body grows from a stem,

every vein,
           fragrance and leaf.

the winds sway my heart upright,

and your touch
    before you pull,

I await calmly–my executioner

my pollen smells you woman,
the tender finger-puller of love.

Behold:  I die for your eyes
and beauty you see within me,
my petals and colours —

till finally nothing
but dried wick-of-stick.

Everything that seeds taught me
my childhood years so nameless,
and your tears like glistening water,
christen me after I have died!

When you bury me — made radiant
by your shining hair and bosom,
the altar which you have crowned
by your lightly showering tears!

:: 08-31-2014 ::


VASTNESS

SUCH persistent illusion
this box called life,
wherein I lay my bones
upon a hook the dream
swings to and fro.
Our majesty — Love,
tends to our soulful needs,
kissing the stars as we fall,
that vastness of other-there!

:: 01-23-2014 ::


MARY MADE MODERN PROMETHEUS

There you were, locked
in a wintry summer
that long cold
volcanic winter
by Mount Tambora
eruption

You spewed German
ghost stories
by German-French tongue
Your th ou ghts
fragmented

by the silky touch
of cold
a kiss from abyss
to heart

And you, Mary!
Born the Modern Prometheus!

And what say you, maker!
Mot of the clay of monster
but the soul within!?!

A brilliant mind of prose
Imagination beyond the horror
you created that day

A literary monster itself!
No thing that dispose!

:: 08-21-2014 ::


ANCIENT ORIGINS OF VAMPYRE

Countess
Elzabeth
Bathory —
Psychosis
or remedy
for tuberculosis?
You — eccentric
woman of red
drank the souls
of all the dead
And Mary Shelly
licked the dreams
a color of Carmine
— raw pigment
of creativity!

:: 08-21-2014 ::


BY THE GALLOWS

I built an edifice
of glory
by the fountain
near the river
I sweat the tears
and the labor
I made my home
by the gallows

E la mia vita, come
i momenti …
appendere dall’illusione

[And my life, like the
moments…
hang by illusion]

:: 08-21-2014 ::


MARY MADE MODERN PROMETHEUS

There you were, locked
in a wintry summer
that long cold
volcanic winter
by Mount Tambora
eruption

You spewed German
ghost stories
by German-French tongue
Your th ou ghts
fragmented

by the silky touch
of cold
a kiss from abyss
to heart

And you, Mary!
Born the Modern Prometheus!

And what say you, maker!
Mot of the clay of monster
but the soul within!?!

A brilliant mind of prose
Imagination beyond the horror
you created that day

A literary monster itself!
No thing that dispose!

:: 08-21-2014 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – LXXXIV (THIRTEEN STEPS)

My wooden staircase creaks
[a heart broken by feet]
and weeks the measure — my neck
What month long that noose stretched!
A hooded man in black
  shared a joke — the pun a trapdoor
I fell —
        |
        |
    _________
    |       |

      
      for the line
a broken neck upon
   a heart string
    
        D
       R
        0
       P

:: 07-11-2014 ::