DEATH sheltered upon the spit of dying souls;
sun and heat a giant cat with one flat foot
upon a devil’s wing — the homosexual and
amorous spirits that cross a garden in dead
of night make scary sounds.
my throat an elevator from heaven descending
toward hell with every swallow; my non-
existent ring upon a broken finger as throbbing
sexual oysters.
to smell the clean spirit of angels are as hanging
clothes upon a clothesline within a Spring’s breeze.
:: 09.21.2020 ::
along the shorest road ever (a treacherous journey) an opening appeared before me;
bright equations bleeding time squished all memory of what i was i am or might be–
A preponderance of suddenly)meets the long Shaman of My Thoughts. i lassoed upon
a moat of dust (cherubs swinging cherubs singing) & road myself)not that way(toward
a whole certain corner )_and touched mySelf searched mySelf…forget mySelf when i
think of who many broken Kewpie dolls cry silently foreverfully and mySelf and
myHeart and mySoul invent grand ideas of an Enormous Language
that touches all hearts.
:: 02.07.08 ::
There as still and quiet as dead.
Sleeping. ?
Yes.
The walls had grown used to the scene. The dreams tired of the same actors with different faces.
The dead take care of their own.
The corpse lit the room’s lamp and in the gray dark began to work.
It bathed the perpetually sleeping body that lay in bed. Trimmed the hair and applied blush to it’s cheeks.
The sleeping know nothing of the awakened world; the dead know nothing of the sleeping but that they sleep the deepest of all. Dripping, the legs were dried.
The sleeper’s eyes opened.
The corpse closed them with the coldest of fingers.
Placing the stiff scrub brush upon the nightstand the corpse was pleased with the Sleeper.
And smiled.
:: 01-15-2019 ::
TODAY is the day
I died after the clouds broke
their water and still-birthed
the evening.
I am standing outside
by the edge of a mysterious
forest and the wolves are
sniffing the air but cannot
find me.
I am a ghost. And my house
is the tomb I was born within
but no longer contains me.
There is an empty space
within my heart’s shape
that no artist can draw:
all words too broken
for any poet to express
my emotions.
I was birthed on the day
the beautiful angels were
sick and have now died
as God is sick and the world
a breath away from me.
::: 10-23-2018 ::
IF it all ends with you I shall extend my hand
and pinch time into two butterflies.
Do you see the orchestral skies? It is teaching
the stars a new dance for the world’s coming
funeral and the eyes of mystery are now weeping
for the blue-white jewel. The Sun knows and she
is aching. and every bird. Sings one less song
each day.
The phenomenal gift called death.
:: 10-06-2018
THAT in my fever while sanity has escaped by baluster
i continue to gaze in daze across the sea of white-
capped madness
Each o-shaped mouth
Each Black-bead eye
and all the ears
all the chins
teeth
speak an infinite story of nothing but sadness.
And within the orchestral pit finely dressed musicians
they shed b-flat note tears; their mannequin powder-white
skin a color of pink’s sunsetting murmur.
Simply, the true story is off stage toward this
improbable army audience; the finely carved polychrome
citizens start to move; half-bodied and more alive
than the flesh-kingdom.
Last night. Last night i felt.
That one’s life can be as real as one’s imagination
if you sinerely wish it.
:: 08-23-2018 ::
i hear a shadow walking towards the light
in all amazement i feel tonight is the
deepest of all the darkness
and in all the suffocating intention
i miss the sun but love the moon
its everything i was raised for this night
i was snared when so ruined
begged forgiveness but knew
there’d be no mercy for what
was brewing
One thing is holy
among the ruin
one thing is evil
among the beauty
And i’ll tell you
over lunch tonight
I’ll show you love
I’ll show you ruin
I’ll show you heartache
in all that’s brewing
within me this night //
:: 05-30-2018 ::
I have not a mouth nor a brain
and not a body for conveyance
but a thought is mine.
I know many have wondered;
death, death, death —
to what end is finality?
No ending but always as always
beginnings; mostly bright
colors and rushing sounds by.
Not a dream nor a waking moment;
but the in-between compromise
and serenity we go by that way.
The actor releases one costume
then decides upon another persona
and learns lines for the stage.
AND wishing the curtain falls
upon roses and much-desired
applause.
:: 10-01-2017 ::
LACRIME DI DOLORE
(Tears of Sorrow)
oh! How sweet is Death
MY! how love burns in Life
that much more in Death
oh! How sorrow becomes concrete
MY! how sparrows Sing in Spring
that is how you are dear
Always will be for me!
:: 02-10-2017 ::
GIVE me peace give me
it again forgive me
(beautiful) who I hate again
love me kiss my mouth
feel my anguish again
hate me hate me again
tell me i’m the only one
And i don’t want to be with you
never loved your truth
so kill me and relieve me
oh if you’re my friend
rape me again and give me
the freedom of life again
Taste me and see i’m an angel
Oh god give me a single word
oh god give me a sharp sword
to cut the throat of this one
who rapes me again and again
:: 11062015 ::
 | asthaisha on L I S T E N |
 | Abhir Khanna on A LARGEST NIGHT |
 | kgbethlehem on MISSISSIPPI RIVER |
 | my valiant soul on DEPARTURE (EPROBLES) |
| kgbethlehem on MISSISSIPPI RIVER |
