Tag Archives: #poetry

Butterfly Few Ing

butterfly   flewing
serene immediate romance
whose vast function being
tenderness (believably
small) –fed babies eyes
grasping perpetually acruise
of yessing mouthing proto-
words learning life
butterfly landing
of handpicked glory by god
upon her skin thrill’d
mechanically vicariously
ughhug wind-kissing palm
her muchMouthed way.

:: 04.12.2022 ::


O Bluedark Why Lasting

O blueDark why lasting Ever!

Splish-as-echoic budded by
her beautiful i’s is wise When
upon bleeding last drop’s light ~

my life Chord shivers burning icePass-
shouldn’t we kiss each other’s fireBornMoods
before d r i pp ing Time

drops squenchPinch this moment.

? IF.

by fire!

:: 04.22.2022 ::


Matura Artis Magistra

My Kindness is the world’s Goliath
used against me,
oh my Spirit
oh my Weakness
is nihil filled by
Light and Love.

My enemies are none —
for they are already
taken from my path.

Those fallen whom I dearly love.

Nature; the teacher of all Art!

Takes it’s time to shine bright.
Shedding tears to make a smile;
how i thought of you especially
when i was not sure but there’s
no doubt you’re within my heart now.

How love wishes to speed up time
but take it slow and you and i
write stories of sadness and pain
but through Life we can make it.

:: 11-26-2016 ::

[Nature is the teacher of art]


My Name is Vengeance

BENEATH death you will find my name
it’s behind merciless eyes you’ve seen
how golden guns and bullets share
timeless moments inside these dreams
it’s been seen by glorious faith

And how i gave love to death
And now it’s all lies

If you must see me protect yourself
arm yourself with angels from on high

Arm yourself with luck
as fate runs through these veins

How evil runs away from vengeance
when the one with ice in his eyes
chases you ~~ you know my name:

Vengeance

is the name.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


My Personal Hell

YOUR HEART without passion
your cellar without a door
your kindest eyes
ruthless color
stabbing my heart
without leaving traces
towards Heaven with haunting voices
is my personal hell.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Moth Balls In Drawers

LOST dreams slide insensibly toward madness of dreams — you close your eyes
shut your wooden windows to life ~~ your dialated eyes drowing in a violent ocean.

Mister, you forgot your hat but now days no one wears them good day Sir.

Oh, froth from your mouth falls pouring the overflow of your head without moorings
of your paralyzed tongue. How you got me thinking, “wasting my time.”

Outside your heart the citizens of a lost world await tensed up toward your hallucinations.

You let me down.

If we had a world of our own, everything would be nonsense ~~~ so way way down inside

Curiouser and curiouser! Rabbits and Cats oh whoo!

We were fooling then like double death swift dying of mingled breath an evaporation of unknown
strange perfume between souls in a naked room called Love ~~

a telephone.

And still I ask are you the same? How are you feeling? Don’t you realize the things we
talked about like dreams — i’d brush summer by with half my smile so half spurn.

Housewives do, a Fly they do like black magic.

If i look into the skies I could with you within a year. I’d wind months into balls and put them
separted into drawers by centuries, delayed.

Subtracting, wondering why (that you were mine, I was never yours in time-twilight) i’d toss it yonder, like a defunct mind and choose Eternity.

Okay. So you never answered and I let it ring a bit longer.

Like the shadows of forevermore that will not speak, “it stings.”

Oh wap doo duh hop no side dreams between telephone lines.

Oh, hot wax on my third eye it left a mark ~~ it’s how I knew I could have loved you.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Wet Dream

She, laying upon a mattress (upon a beach in her mind)
caressing of two fingers distracted by the voice of the sea
leaving flotsam upon her finger tips; who in spite
of her privacy attracts the enemy.

Moral police approaches, she immobilizes them with her noisy
hand ~~ and the men pull their soul out of their cozy beds
and suck their agony.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Vices of Men

Vices of men are my domain.

Their wounds my sweet cakes.

I like to chew their vile penis’
because their ugliness makes my beauty
spectacular and chooses me.

(As the letter continues to spiral
out of control, she writes:)

“Since the dawn of time I’m sure that
no couple has ever lived together
in perfect bliss.

Is it any wonder that men
don’t want me because I know what
their biggest vice is?

And I know their biggest loss…
And I don’t eat their penis’
because it’s gross …

I eat it because I enjoy it.”

:: 07.07.2022 ::


Tears No More

Flee from the mountains of sadness, flee from what bleeds with tears, the sea of tears, of which the precious earth frequently raises her skirt to pour out the fire from her heart.

O, when the winds set the sea upon fire and rips apart the garments of the sun, when fearful tides mingle into froth and face the dead corpses of the sea, when the hands of night rend the stars O, then shall I pity men!

Behold, man! Here God shall hearken, and when he hears our prayer, he shall restore both our health and our strength.

Should God restore our health, we shall cast aside the blame of the night’s tears, and the blame of the sea’s lamentations, and weep no more, for we shall be restored to our beloved.

Should he restore our strength, then will our sorrow properly vanish I will not languish in the ocean of tears, nor the barren rocks in the seas of sorrow, for we shall now be given back our health, and our strength, and our health, and love.

Let him restore us now, if he can, to the old climate of joy and the old climate of sorrow, and then I will weep no more, and shall not make this complaint:

that He, that is God, has forgotten us.

:: 07.07.2022 ::


A Hundred Poems – XC – The Art W(h)ORE(E)LD

SOME POSSESS talent
whilst others are possessed by it!

One is a gift and the other potentially
a fatal disease of spirit and soul.

//–//