As my sensational sensual moments bleed away and are no more seen by the vilest minds
my face deep within the riches of Earth’s soil away from unthought wars!
Unburdened by high wilt of human rine–
as pure Love has championed over darkly love.
And smallest voices as new born children spiritually cries of Spring keeping new born
butterflies afloat, is where Love strives
as droll god-beasts!
Such is the dance of perception as a reflection
through a prism; or early morning dew drop.
Time that not be for us — as purple roses
are sweeter to the but for me: deeper!
:: 12.21.2020 ::
Him to Her
i should remember our last time apart,
and why with misfortunes and
melancholy nights did you stop these tears!
my words written as philosophical reasons
have not arrested your pain or fortune.
i feel am i useless, no impression upon
your heart or soul shall relieve this grief
and now i could scoop the light of a moonlit
night and gather all its grandeur but to
no avail to awaken your Spirit!
This skin and flesh of me wishes to leave,
but my Soul remains in this endeavor to prove
living is not being happy but loving is life!
i believe i am the house silently sitting
in servitude looking beyond the old-thoughts
of a redMouth bleeding time and trimmings
of wishful meaning.
:: 08-07-2015 ::