Tag Archives: #poet

The Imperial Robe

I see the Night – lit up by Day
Some name it Life – I say – Okay
The World – she wears a starry Cloak
Upon her Collar – Time’s soft yoke

A Seamstress – stitched with subtle Thread
Where Life – and Death – together tread
And in her Garb – from Waist to Knee
Lies all we are – and all shall be

Between the Land – and Ocean wide
Between the Dream – where Shadows bide
Between the Life – and Death’s deep Breath
We dwell – within the Robe of Death!

:: 04.28.2015 ::


A BLUE MONDAY MANUFACTURED

I dwell within a Child’s Heart—
A Broken Toy—abandoned—
A Manufactured Monday’s hue—
Rejected—left unbandaged—

A Smile—a Smudge of Chocolate—
Upon a Face—unfeeling—
For Wages small—too slight to hold—
Emotions—swiftly leaving—

The Strong—perhaps—do live this way—
A leak—within the Vessel—
As Moses fled—the Ark set sail—
I swim—no need to wrestle—

For I—like Fish—no Feelings know—
We glide—our Hearts unweeping—
The World is shades—of Colors bright—
But Flesh—its meat—so creeping—

I love the Hues—but loathe the Hand—
That seeks my flesh—yet spurns my Soul—
A Leak—unplugged—Moses—he sees—
And FEMA comes—with Guns of Gold—

The Fish—they stare—they understand—
No Feelings left—no Heart to mend—
I am a Blue Monday’s Child—
A Manufactured—End—

:: 08.27.2024 ::


IT’s NOCTAMBULATION LiVING

NOCTAMBULATION

                          Noctambulant—beneath the Moon— 
I    met  a    Sprite—along  the  Path—

She whispered—soft—between the Trees—
“You’ve devoured—all my Hope—”

Her Heart—a Dream—gently placed—
Upon the Clouds—of fleeting Joy—
As if a Party—meant to last—
But vanished—in the Night—

Within my Heart—we wandered far—
I glimpsed—Life’s long—elusive Thread—
Then tumbled—deep—into the Arms—
Of Love—forevermore—

In Petals—lush—of Crimson Red—
And Ivory White—such Memories bloom—
A Child’s Joy—now lost to Time—
Find me—where No Thing exists—

Bid Nature’s Choir—sing of Spring—
The Embers fade—but Love persists—
Beneath the sad—eternal Night—
A Moon—of Silver—wistful light—

(Rev: 08.22.2024 ::)


I am Forever In Debt

How you walk alone in rain clouds
smothering skies
Dressed blue fringes brown mud bare feet
and brilliant eye tears not from nature
but from Love broken i was taught as child
love is a small thing with big eyes
So lost in your big eyes bleeding cancer in mind

oh say:

In the quiet storm of your solitude, the rain clouds hang heavy
like unspoken dreams, draping the world in a veil of melancholic haze.
You tread the earth, bare feet sinking into the wet embrace of mud,
as if the world itself mourns with you, absorbing your every step,
every tear that falls from eyes too brilliant for this dim reality.

The fringes of your being, once adorned in the delicate blue of innocence,
now flutter like forgotten memories in the wind, frayed by the passage of time
and the weight of unfulfilled promises. The tears you shed, they do not belong to
nature—they are the essence of a heart broken by the purest force known to man:
Love.

A force that, as a child, was taught to you as something small, yet with eyes so vast they could swallow the universe.

And now, in the cavernous depths of your mind, those eyes have become a cancer,
an all-consuming void that devours every thought, every emotion, until nothing remains
but the echo of your own despair. You walk alone, not just in the world, but in the very fabric of existence,
lost in the labyrinth of your own making, where love is both the light that guides and the shadow that blinds.

As you drift through the mist of your memories, the world around you warps and bends, reshaping itself into a landscape that mirrors the turmoil within. Trees twist into grotesque forms, their branches reaching out like the skeletal fingers of forgotten hopes, while the ground beneath you pulses with the heartbeat of the earth, alive with the sorrow that has seeped into its core. Each step you take is a dance with the past, a delicate waltz with the ghosts of what once was, their whispers curling around you like smoke, filling your lungs with the bitter taste of regret.

The sky, once a canvas of endless possibilities, now hangs heavy with the weight of lost dreams, its colors bleeding into one another like tears on a page. The rain that falls is no longer water, but a torrent of shattered illusions, each drop a fragment of a future that will never come to pass. You raise your eyes to the heavens, searching for solace, but find only the reflection of your own despair staring back at you, mocking the hope you once held so dear.

In this surreal world of your creation, you are both the artist and the masterpiece, the creator of your own torment, painting with the hues of heartbreak and the brushstrokes of loneliness, lost in a world where love has become a distant memory, a faint echo in the chambers of a forgotten heart.

Orchids of smiles dying in your highness sigh.

:: 08.14.2024 ::


Alpha Bet Lesson

Have you seen a ‘v’—(sounds so beautiful)
Hop across a ‘t’ or even ‘y’ inside
A ‘d’, it’s all inside of me, so full.

Alphabet needs, in language’s pull,
Something in the way, I cannot hide,
Have you seen a ‘v’—(sounds so beautiful)?

In a deep dark well of mostly nights dull,
I kissed ‘m’ and ‘e’, where secrets reside,
A ‘d’, it’s all inside of me, so full.

Words touch all I hide, their whispers mull,
Cries feeling how I am, though much denied,
Have you seen a ‘v’—(sounds so beautiful)?

All of me cried feeling how I might lull,
Am SO “m” “T”, emotions collide,
A ‘d’, it’s all inside of me, so full.

Something in the way, how words just cull,
All I hide away from me, thoughts untried,
Have you seen a ‘v’—(sounds so beautiful)?
A ‘d’, it’s all inside of me, so full.

(rev) 06.20.2024


While Humanity Sleeps

WHILE humanity sleeps (half of the world to you and me)
We, birds whom nature adores charm from atop lookouts
shut eyes and dream
dream of mind and feels
As each night branches out into a single, flowering thought
from wings to the beak of your beloved wheelbarrow
who flies away after pecking food from Earth’s Soul
We, the bronze sighs of a statue that raises itself
upon an elbow while institutions sleep
And the dreamer, may his glowing gaps open up with shut eyes
dreamer with tears and laughs ; the horror of things
through it all i can hear you cry
beyond white sand shores into coral antlers of pain
So stretch your eyes and heart
So just say the heart is fractured
(i’m saved) so shut your mind and sing/just say
“Your heart is right — just go on and dream”

:: 06.20.2024 ::


The Terrors of Infinite Realities

The day is midnight at noon and the skies are bleeding red yokes.
And the skies and sky scrapers are on fire ./cars on fire with no one at the wheel
and the government\corrupt/ tens of thousands of suicides and the wind is hot
everyone trapped within the belly of this machine and we are screaming. And the machine
is bleeding to death while the flags are all dead on top of all those poles.

In the quiet town of Eldridge, four teenagers—Alex, Jamie, Sam, and Casey—stumbled upon an ancient book hidden in the dusty attic of their school’s library. Bound in worn leather and adorned with strange symbols, the book seemed out of place among the mundane school records and old yearbooks. Intrigued by its mysterious appearance, the group decided to take it to their usual hangout spot, an abandoned cabin in the nearby woods, to explore its contents.

As the sun set and shadows grew long, they gathered around a rickety wooden table, the book’s eerie presence casting an unspoken tension among them. Alex, the group’s natural leader, carefully opened the book. The pages, yellowed with age, were filled with intricate drawings and cryptic text in a language none of them recognized. But what caught their attention was a diagram depicting a series of interlocking circles—what seemed to be different worlds connected by thin, dark lines.

Jamie, the tech-savvy skeptic, used their phone to take pictures of the pages, hoping to decipher the text later with some translation app. Sam, always the curious one, noticed a small inscription at the bottom of the diagram. It read: “Beware the crossings, for they reveal the unseen.” They shrugged it off as an attempt to scare them, but a strange chill settled over the group, as if the words held a hidden truth.

Over the next few days, they delved deeper into the book’s mysteries. Jamie managed to translate some of the text, revealing that the book was a guide to the multiverse—an infinite number of parallel realities, each slightly different from the others. Excited by the discovery, they continued their research, unaware that their curiosity was about to lead them into unimaginable horrors.

One night, while experimenting with an incantation from the book, the air around them began to shimmer and distort. A portal, glowing with an otherworldly light, opened before them. With a mix of fear and excitement, they decided to step through, finding themselves in a world that looked like their own but felt off—darker, colder, and filled with an oppressive sense of dread.

As they explored this parallel world, they noticed subtle yet disturbing differences. The town was eerily silent, with abandoned cars and empty houses. The sky was a permanent shade of twilight, and an unnatural stillness hung in the air. It wasn’t long before they realized they were not alone. Dark figures lurked in the shadows, watching their every move with glowing eyes.

Panic set in when they tried to return through the portal, only to find it had vanished. Stranded in this nightmarish version of Eldridge, they had no choice but to seek refuge in their old hangout spot—the abandoned cabin. There, they regrouped and tried to figure out how to reopen the portal. The book, however, seemed to have lost its power, the once glowing pages now dull and lifeless.
As days turned into weeks, the group struggled to survive. They scavenged for food and avoided the shadowy figures that roamed the town. During one of their expeditions, Casey discovered a journal in the library of this alternate Eldridge. The journal belonged to someone named Dr. Alistair Crowley, who had apparently been studying the multiverse and its horrors for decades.

According to Dr. Crowley’s journal, the shadowy figures were inhabitants of the “Dark Worlds,” parallel universes consumed by evil. He warned that once someone crossed into these worlds, they risked drawing the attention of these malevolent entities. The journal also hinted at a way to escape, but the instructions were incomplete, the final pages torn out.

Desperation took hold as the group faced increasing attacks from the shadowy figures. Each night, the creatures grew bolder, their glowing eyes peering through the cabin’s broken windows. Alex, feeling responsible for their predicament, pushed himself to decode the journal’s cryptic clues. Sleepless nights and constant fear took a toll on him, and he began to hear whispers in the darkness, calling his name.

One evening, as the group huddled together in the cabin, the whispers became too much for Alex to bear. Driven by an unseen force, he wandered into the woods, where he found an ancient stone circle. The symbols carved into the stones matched those in the book. In a trance-like state, he chanted the incantation he had memorized, hoping to summon another portal.

The air crackled with energy as a portal slowly opened within the stone circle. The rest of the group, realizing Alex was missing, followed the strange light to the clearing. They found Alex unconscious but alive, the portal shimmering before them. With no other choice, they carried him through the portal, praying it would lead them back home.

To their relief, they emerged in their own world, but things were not quite the same. They found themselves in an Eldridge that seemed untouched by time, as if they had traveled back to a version of their town from the past. Confused and disoriented, they made their way back to the library, hoping to find answers in the book.

To their horror, the book was gone, replaced by a note that read: “The crossings have consequences. Beware the ripples.” As they pondered the note’s meaning, they realized that their adventure had left a mark on their world. Strange occurrences began to plague the town—people disappearing, mysterious lights in the sky, and whispers in the night.

Haunted by their experiences and the knowledge that the multiverse was real, the group vowed to protect their world from further incursions. They became guardians of the secrets they had uncovered, always watching for signs of otherworldly threats. Their friendship, forged in the crucible of terror, became their greatest strength as they faced the unknown horrors of infinite realities.

:: 06.16.2024 ::


Blood As Art

You shed your coat in the stormy rain,
Ever wild, a phantom in the night,
And I watched from my shadowed pane,
An outsider, hidden from your sight.

Enigmatic, with eyes so dark,
And hair wild as the tempest’s call,
You moved like whispers in the dark,
Sensitive, yet beyond it all.

You stood silent in my door’s embrace,
With words like ghosts of weather,
Unseeing my heart’s bleeding trace,
My knees to ground, a broken tether.

Love’s games, a spectral art,
Your thoughtless words, breaking my heart,
Breaking my heart.

Morning brilliance in your eyes,
Cigarette smoke, a wraith’s caress,
Over coffee, art’s demise,
Baroque, Mozart, in shadowed finesse.

Tales of love, you wove with ease,
While I, a shadow, strummed my tune,
Taught me truths, elusive keys,
Daring, clean, beneath the moon.

Hid my soiled hands from sight,
Lost somewhere along the line,
Mistook you for a heart of light,
A soul more like mine.

Love’s games, a haunting plea,
Tearing me apart,
Your thoughtless words, haunting me,
Breaking my heart.

You shed your coat in the stormy rain,
Ever wild, a phantom in the night.


DOLOREM INFERNES AMORIS (Painful Love)

Your neck, such a slender mast,

from which your head dangles, suspended.

In the void, your body cries out to me,

Implores me to breathe life into your open mouth,

The fragile syllables of my longing.

A. E. I. O. U.

My tears are human but my heart is angelic

and I love you any way ~~ As

is a child cradled within your arms.

His head a shadow against the dark expanse of your chest,

Eyes sightless, hands bereft of grasp.

Your body pleads with me,

To offer My life as a vow.

When rain comes it makes me sweat

when the moon comes out i love you

like yesterday ~~ so come on

it’s not like when i tell the truth

i make lies____but when we go would you

have the guts to say you don’t love me

like you loved me yesterday_______.

And I love you like yesterday.

:: 05.24.2024 ::


I am Not Who I am

It was the woman that I saw in the bookstore. And to whom I spoke and who spoke to me. I was in a public library of sorts. All people coming and going. The room then became without light. They came to tell me that she was at my house. Waiting. Why? She, that one at the bookstore was now in my bed, all mine but I did not wish to possess her. Her eyes were without lights. I was nonetheless very moved. And a lot because it was my family home. I was also overcome by distress! I was in rags, me, and she, a worldly woman, giving herself away; which of use had to go! A nameless distress, I took her, and let her fall out of bed, almost naked; and in my indescribable weakness I fell upon her and dragged myself with her among the lightless carpets. The family lamp reddened the neighboring rooms one after the other. Then the woman disappeared. I shed more tears than God could ever ask for.

I went out into the endless city. O Fatigue! Drowned in the deaf night and in the flight from happiness. It was like a winter night, with snow to definitely suffocate the world. The friends to whom I shouted: where is she staying, answered falsely. I was in front of the windows of where she goes every evening: I was running in a buried garden. I was rejected. I cried a lot at all of this. Finally I went down to a place full of dust, and sitting on the frames, I let all the tears in my body end with that night. – And yet my exhaustion always came back to me.

I understood that she was in her everyday life; and that the turn of kindness would take longer to reproduce than a star. She has not returned, and will never return, the Adorable One who came to my house – which I would never have supposed. – True, this time, I cried more than all the children in the world.

Then, I realized. My life, my skin, my blood, my smiles and heart made me who I am.

I am not human.

I am love.

:: 05.22.2024 ::