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
to smell the clean spirit of angels are as hanging
clothes upon a clothesline within a Spring’s breeze.
:: 09.21.2020 ::
“i will not be that way, ” i said.
as she took hostage my heart.
“I will not be that way, ” i begged.
as she kissed my soul.
but for you i shall turn the stars
around and move the oceans i declared.
i do not love your beautiful face.
i do not love your curvaceous body.
i love your feet as they brought you
here toward me. And now i enjoy
your mind and through it all things
:: 09.17.2020 ::
i would sink if the moon left these shores! picture of myself,
bright floods! seeking shadowed roads. Of yellow and green
cellophane hearts –into the willows of an old courtyard.
O my dying quiet hearts of arts and words of black dog,
brown shepherd hungry formasters — bitter peaches upon the ground :
while sulfur and evil drown in shallow swims.
Oh but Lord! through amaranths and Sahara blues as fire and creepers
seep through the widow’s cage! i walked Guianan without shoes
and flew through the ducal window on such a moonlight as the blessed bindweed.
Across ages of time and hordes cross our aged Europe.
Every soul crosses the moors — all warriors!
:: 08.31.2020 ::
SENTIMENTAL AND WIDE
w a n d e r ing souls
eating muffins crazy cats
yarn at your feet — destruction
inside your heart/makes me lay down
throughout the night\ nEVER a
frown — a deadly smile of conviction
within my Cedar Box
it walks crushed & tulips i breathed
in the entire blue skies / –> so
together where you are : and all of
the things i ever said to you girl
makes me feel sentimental and wide.
:: 08.11.2020 ::
THIS POET WROTE:
while leaves march down an empty alleysuddenly she is barely holding upon the blue skies /of punch red-blue\of a galant southern magnolia sweetand fresh of a sudden burning smellfruit for the fallen souls are we forever together.
far so for father trick of mind/here is a Strange Tale\upon his tomb stone. this POET WROTE
:: 07.13.2020 ::
WHILE the Cherubim sing their deeply forlangen hymns
…Oh, how beautiful! Oh, how sensually sweet!
That i am racked brokenly as suffocating despair
fills my Thoughts! My Mind! Not for this first
time am i drunk with expectation: as a child i
drank the Living Light. A price unseen until a
Let us break disharmony and seal a pact with All!
To re-create a promise.
:: 05.10.2020 ::
HAVE you never
-ed the edge of
fields so yellow
they smell of Gold?
–the wheat fields
of Vincent Van Gogh
he was a bastard
to most but greatly
to ‘self’ –>kill
but never the Art
nor the Soul
:: 04.29.2020 ::
a creeping chill throws me cold: t he
skies have t urn SEPIA AND i completely
utterly melt into each word
birth’d — this elegie betrays the poet;
a confession unburdens the Spirit — you
are reading about the me of ‘i’ have always
loved you |mia /i shall meet you again to-now
within the theater of my Soul sure, sometimes
i have concern for the world as it continues
to devour my Feelings and sensibilities.
when can i love you again?
:: 03.24.2020 ::
when the heart is shattered the world turns black & cold
you either swim in the light of dust (across sunlit-Glory)
roads or float through life & space
so fuC*ing a l one
unless i am with you
the walls & madness become
a nuclear-cloud of fears
when the heart is shattered
bruised-Love accents are lips
spokenWild and the heart’s
echoes are as musicSplendor
S W I M into space
Orion hides your Face
I’d die with you if
sunlit-Glory is ever
d e s t r o y e d.
:: 03.06.2020 ::