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 ::
Category Archives: Life
VASTNESS
THE ART OF LOVE
I kissed a Monet painting, Van Gogh too!
And Mona Lisa kissed the man behind the
brushstroke of lifePaint. And then that’s when
I saw her walk through the door —
of the outdoor of life, and I cried,
“Art, pop, and poetry!”
She pulled them all inside her heart.
And I was taken by her soul and lips.
And she walks like a portrait off some museum wall!
Built like life and mother Earth,
she came to me through the dream
of my waking life.
And she (oh!) walked and all life and reality
followed her through Life. And her hair
and eyes said to me, “I was so busy doing
something and nothing for my own life dear.”
That’s when I walked through the LifeDoor
of the Outdoor of Life.
And I caught a butterfly and said, “I think I
love her.”
My woman is poetry, art, and life and lust,
and all God gave to me!
And I think…yeah, think, I could love her.
thunder talking, and lightning walks but
my baby loves me most!
IT’S the art of love.
And she has a strawberry kiss and raspberry lips.
:: 08-30-2014 ::
A HUNDRED POEMS – C WHITE SPACE DETOURS
I ride the path by mouth
and nothing more
The pen is dried and tears
have taken a road by south.
Who should feed my vagrant words
they starve at day and flee by night!
And detours, forked by white S paces
And pregnant pauses give birth
to tiny doubts upon my ink!
I watch the children drown there.
A fountain in the square of town
is where I dip my quill,
and the Crier shouts,
“Oyez, Oyez, Oyez!”
Remember all the good souls!
:: 08-23-2014 ::
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 ::
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 ::
TWO PATHS
The road built by fire
cleanses the soul
but the one by flower
can steal the soul
:: 08-15-2014 ::
SERIOUS MATTERS!
Who keeps pace
with life
and death?
That glory
to the grave?
Perhaps a smile,
perchance a tear?
And I, no chance —
just a smile
and perfect spirit
I tease endurance
and tame the soul!
:: 08-15-2014 ::
ORGAN GRINDER
I rode upon the highway —
heat, dry-sweat today
Glided through a red light
all the way to your
empty uterus parking spot
The organ grinder and
his spotted monkey
entertained me while
I sat in a cadmium-baked car
Majora, my minora sweets
melting in a box next to me
A prostate nun knocked
a holy rap upon my white-knuckle
scarred heart — a dollar
fallopian boo scared her away
Separation of faith and fear!
Wait! Lawless pride forever
guides the human less race!
Just another broken dream
and face shattered in you
Mother Less pulled my tubes
drank a spotless juice
Freddy Gargoyle Blue sang
Wait! Lawless Pride forever
guide the human less race!
Just another broken tooth
a heart broken…
a heart broken in two
:: 08-15-2014 ::
A HUNDRED POEMS – 97
I whisper feather-felt
tongue beneath the shadow,
treading gently, as I go
my soul, the bleeding heart.
In all bright-fairness gentle
womanHeart with golden hair,
a tarnished life stone I am
Fallen golden dustBin life
Lilac-like, bending, tending
to the winds,
the roots too deep to blow
my soul away across the field
:: 08-05-2014 ::
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