Tag Archives: #death

OH ANGEL

OH Angel! Oh my angel
who covers me!
my love my light my spirit;
for past pleasures i do not
grieve, not so: any perils
that gather near —
i’ve a broken heart that
gathers no great grief that i
leave behind — no thing
that claims a tear!
to breath upon Earth is to
merit heaven as if making
hell upon Earth.

Where Souls scorn! A pointing
finger through many a coming
year?

:: 08.12.2020 ::


AGING MEMORIES

it was 1493 when i, the little boy, ventured across
the hills toward Anchiano.
there i was found being thirsty and asked an old
man for water. He was Leonardo da vinci — he
said. My father taught me how to fight: my mother,
how to be gracious for a kind gesture.
i had never met a soul as him and he showed me
a painting and some notes. Asked if I was schooled.
No. Just in life to survive i replied.

Thanking him i left behind a remarkable
soul.

:: 07.25.2020 ::


LIFE BREAKING MY HEART (NATURE)

DREAMING closely i kissed nature
within everything and where it
was: dreaming i dreamt i was
back within myself
within a stain’d-spot
counting all the looks &
remembering all souls’ reflection
(is it all i wish to be?)
i find myself too afraid to
see. Dreaming delusions of
a storm of phantom numbers
where all beings die:
almost 8 billion years after
Earth ceases to exists —
is there any lamp post to see?
are the alley’s shadows all
you wish to be?
many wise hearts speak-spoken
so mysterious and fashionably
sensible you failed —
life breaks my heart.

:: 07.19.2020 ::


QUOD numquam accedit ad lumen aeternum (THAT NEVER GOES UNTO THE ETERNAL LIFE)

THAT HAS never approached the eternal
light of my Heart

as: Nunc rcm unguentorum,

relish the night as
when tears are not enough
the end is closer
toward a new beginning
than the fears recessed toward
that One who Always Lost
but ——> but not us.

:: 07.10.2020 ::


THE GREAT SMALLEST

i grEW into a GREAT
smallness’t
that walked the dangerous
forest of my carpet
i lost the lie of physicality
while dreaming this dream
of life —
no one truly sleeps
we are always HERE.

:: 07.10.2020 ::
smallnest is now a word


SPECTACULAR ENTERTAINMENT

SITTING so little is   so… This little
would-be bride in   a Kind of cellophane
yellow-red candy dress
     like misery reaching
     its hand tearing fine
garments of feelings I am becoming
millions of broken shards of
eyes that find me  so disgusting
      blue windows – pink rooftops
dirt, sunrises,sewage ditches
and the petals of picked dying flowers
upon my refrigerator ~~ (i use to have purpose)
My eyes still blind from prehistoric light
while the screams and moans of assaulting life
rant through Gotham! With no voice!

:: 06-11-2015 ::
rev: 07102020


DYING IN BED

THE bed a crime scene of sorts
a passion spilled in sweat
willingly i go – to my death

he comes to me in the night
a sword sharpened by lust
and thrusts it into my soul

mother, i’m ready to come home
but the line between pain & pleasure
is small compared to the pleasant death

the coroner will say an untimely passing
but my murderous lover knew the timing
each plunge of his knife ever deeper

— // —


EMBRYO’S SKINNY FISTS

THE embryo’s skinny fists reach the skies
and hides a face yet born
in this summer of burning children you
call a name and the world is asleep.
the fitful swings the stuffed animals
the tired friends called warm winds
have long thoughts of buried snakes
and within the many undreamed thoughts
of a lost world the embryo’s skinny fists
tear the skies apart — the revelation
of new nails grown for 2 months that never
had a drink of the blood you spilled //
some hang their hand and drown within fear
yet, and, with unborn eyes very open, to pretend
a gently passed hand over a baby’s head —
THIN new hair that does not die, long nails
within a soft chest — licking the bloodless
wounds of survival.
The sound of the surgeon’s scalpel.

:: 06.20.2020 ::


THE GROSS CLINIC

DRESSED within your black frock coat
darkly lecturing among the dead flayed
and white faced interns — next to tunnel railing
with white cuffed sleeves sketching a prose unknown
and Dr. Franklin West studiously taking notes
— the operation upon a dead body has no mouth
to scream.

the conservative operation
for osteomyelitis /and amputation out of question;
an advance sight for its time — prevention of
infection is seen.

:: 06.19.2020 ::


The Mighty Devourer of Insatiable Hunger

THAT when mountains move as rivers
reverse their course

The smell of
fear!
Fear~
the s u n ‘ s l i g h t
obscured
The mighty devourer of insatiable hunger

near!
n e a r !

And economies, sweet industries of Hope and Deliverance
consumed
is the name known by many
called

COMPLACENCY!

Tomb!
Tomb!