je suis déchiré entre
mots
je suis déchiré entre
pensées
je suis déchiré entre
la peur et la vie !
:: 01/08/2016 ::
Tag Archives: #poetry
je suis déchiré
DISMEMBERED THOUGHTS
/ Hello i met you on the blue line
shared stories & morning coffee
Tokyo is so quiet on Fridays
but she is talking a lot so
Saturdays are like Sunday-
mourning talking-head shows
Hey, did my bones really
hurt you? I tried so hard
to show you I have a split
tongue/brain talking about
every eutrophic thing;
so every blue line
so every little inch
think i’m so boring
eat the sushi tongue
reaching down your throat
cleaning your teeth upon
my skin gives Buddha a
climax of universal thought
kiss the dog
kiss the street lamp
kiss the steps
kiss my head
it’s all angel hair and then
we’re gone //
::; 08-05-2016 ::
FUNERAL DIRT WITHIN MY MOUTH
so i died just today like yesterdays and
i’m a friend of my own mind so ugly
And today i sang angelic songs cause
i’m so past flesh … yeah, past
yeah, past yeah past …
And if i’m lonely i speak to myself
and once heard how
faulty my pluming is from the bottom
to the top of my sun-bleached skull
yeah yeah yeah
yeah oh yeah
yeah!
I carry your corpse within my heart
I killed you when you died ~~
and ate the funeral dirt in my holy mouth
and now so happy cause
in my head i found years
of everyday i cared 4 u
i’m so past flesh
yeah, past!
yeah, past!
yeah, past!
and if i’m lonely
i just speak to myself!
:: 08-05-2016 ::
VARESE’S DESERTS
I watched a tender
blue sky seep into
sleep and
saw the dark claws
of rough black earth
awaken
And the moon itself
sucking bones and
dirt from Earth
into a funnel
toward Heaven
This I saw while
being born
This I know as
each small day
i die //
:: 08-07-2016 ::
THE CONSEQUENCES OF BLISS
What morning sky!
[and the air will not
let you go]
what blue fair air!
[and the ground shall
receive you]
what gracious gift of life!
[crush! …remember to
always look up when singing]
:: 08-07-2016 ::
I AM AN ARTIST
THOUGH I AM AN ARTIST
i am going toward the stick
to utterly award a tree,
the Nobody shall stop not me
burst first
Love , the unopened
envelop of life ~ the reckless
oral pink truth
begging life and love
the impulse of life
i will have
a l o n g d r e a m
i saw the opening window of my
house Spring givings
across the air and floor
worms rushing through loam.
is where music that touches
hearts and words like painting
pierces through life-dreams
is what i am this ‘always here.’
:: 05-19-2016 ::
THE EXPANSIVE UNKNOWN
MY feet are wasted
i have relieved myself
upon them.
In powder-blue
all my gross innocence
pulls back the dreams
of my youthful days
My youthful dreams
that i knew close the crypt
upon the somber skies
And the Book of My Life
have many torn pages
just pulp scars of living
actually all by the power
of love fallen so it’s
me i’m writing of
you can take me to a place
called hell i have a hat
hanging on it’s wall
So then, my expansive unknown
always be! That we all
can dream a dream
and eventually meet the day
we try to excuse all our
regrets while love ones
lament on such a beautiful day
:: 01132016 :
rev: 03.03.2016
A LONGEST MOMENT BEGINS
My longest morning begins
without you
The cherished sun-smiles
that hides with expectation
the cloud bellows white
the sheets wet by fitful
dreams of losing you.
WHEN did moments charge
in blood? And between spaces
bent fingers reaching for you?
Oh where, where is this “YOU?”
My passion –>
(larger,
shrinking)
dearest love
[perhaps a heart caught
in the throe of passion
is a blue-jay egg within my
throat!
:: ~~ ::
BY GRACIOUS ANCIENT LOVE
By gracious
ancient love
and above all
things that are
gently pleasant
life paused
Just if(for you)
and like all
young new hearts
impatiently moved
by his and her
minds all mysteries
are likeMaking new
memories; by
flesh and kisses
walks and talks
hands over bridges
eyes across love
whose sharp horizons
divide the days
and nights of light
and secret missions/
away together as One
away together in Love
is where our minds
take off\I’d rather
live and sometimes
even hurt if Love
at times tenders me.
:: 03-02-2016 ::
FLEE IN TERROR
you are indeed beautiful.
I bet your soul is even that more
(more than beautiful)
As a poet I would express the visual
delight of having watched the sun dance
from high to dusk and then watching
bright biggest lights dipping below
the horizon — to witness this within
your eyes (reflections are decisions
we made!)
and exhausted I whisper:
enough. enough! do not slay me with beauty tonight!
Allow my mind to proclaim sunrise in the morrow.
I suggest: teach lovers a new terror
whereby many good hearts flee toward
their lovers.
:: 02.23.2016 ::
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