Tag Archives: #skin

CREATIVITY AND INSANITY

IN my eyes i see nothing
comes the ghosts of life
The sun comes burning
Secret elders of seven
look down and judge me

Upon a stone of iron
i struck with my heart
my hand on the sword
my love within my heart
a traveler of sweet words

All to be revealed.

To build a tower to skies
strong we were making life
and another Voice spoke
saying, “ooh. What they
can do if we allow them.”

And the Spirit of Love
touched each heart of
our men — we confused
speaking different
and the sun lost our eyes

As i screamed i said
oooooooh oooooooh
father you confused us.

Lost in creativity and
in insanity by the river
of autumn leaves ~~~~
so the four winds of
fear came and brought me
into the celestial sphere.

:: 06.09.2022 ::


PAIN

i HATE the THOUGHTS

BUT NEVER THE WORDS!

:: 02.16.2022 ::


POETIC PAINTINGS

SHE would pull back her hands to her sides, her furrows bear poetic paintings with a past unfolded in crosshatch, reprimands to the unblinking, to the untried to never covet an hour lost and found, the length of a sunset, a sun weighing us down, now or then looking away to a beach that doesn’t seem our way, reputed for its unchanging coral reefs and saying it’s way more glorious than the beach next door, as we know, the one nobody cares to swim into.

Then my hips, already weak, begin to shake though when you come with me, if we should go by car, we’re together, on ground heavy that your steps cannot change.

I must say more, but you know the story. You must hear the secret though only the Sages were allowed to hear it.

It is a light; my dark world turns into a coffin light, the whole thing collapsing, if i miss you, my sadness begs, but there are no answers what to do when everything in you, in all of us weeps for absence.

Better for the room’s overhead to be darkness, for me, for my heart’s an end that must not bend, a blade lost in sand. Can no healing be between our two lonely hearts without me weeping and no consolation
without you wanting to know, when we’ll fall in love again?

Want to buy a song give a gift of musical genius the way we never stop loving, until I can be safe again.

I’ve lived alone for the last thirteen years, still living off my memories of her, but having no contact with her — except for my last few days, of course.

I wrote the only song I can sing now, and there were no lessons to be had in any language even if you had known about me, about how I suffered in my anger, from the depth of my despair,
you would not have come near.

:: 03.26.2021 ::


FOURTEEN

i wish I had more time and opportunity to explain my disgust to your rust-stained sarcophagus. To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.

Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth to your rust-stained sarcophagus!

To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.

Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth and your heart could only love the person who feeds it for nourishment — is a difficult task; so you resorted to Cupid’s slingshot!
But here’s an alternative: follow my heart down the garden path, until my sticky feet block the entrance of Cupid’s grave.

Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.

Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.

Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.
Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.
Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the paint bucket and I will lay it on a canvas of life

It was exactly 14 days since you told me you left the store early.
14 dreary days and I do not think you’ve been here once (not that I
would blame you for believing it).

14 days since I was mean to you, and then you said you’d be back
by 14.

:: 12.24.2020 ::


GOGH’S FIELDS OF GOLD

IT is dark down here & this awful reality
satisfies the ego and frightens the soul
but makes a state of distraction
; an abomination –an abhorrence
for all that it implies -a living organism
as a leaf or a particle.

There is no non-life only emptiness & this filth
whose existence is temporary– a first-trimester pregnancy
in an animal –a rejected spiritual soul, it is real-
life in simple terms– the personal growth we are
so ignorant of the brave face of existence –a thing
we will ‘never’ ever come to terms
with –the vagaries of Time which call to us
‘cross the bridge’ & walk the Yellow Streets
of Van Gogh.

Hav you never ever walked the edge of fields of
so yellow they smell of gold — the wheat fields
of Vincent Van Gogh: he was a bastard
to most but greatly to ‘self’ –> killed the personality
but never the Art
nor the Soul

:: 04.29.2020 ::
rev: 0-10.3.2020 ::


PERFUME OF HATE & LOVE

before I was a boundary of Life
i was an embryo so you can completely
kill me when you want  like the body
upon which you learned to write
(aside from ancient angels) people
hidden or appear illuminated
by forests of appearance —
immediate lights?
a dream appeared at will.
So senseless  — a perfect example
of words!   aaaaaaaaahhhhh!  
The media fears to feed him —
smells like sperm of secrets —
the sea stops within the palms
of your eyes —– aaaaaaaaaah!
  breath.  Please.  To laugh.
Believe.  aaaaagh.  with hospitality
they blindfold your look.

:: 08.16.2020 ::


BORN WITHIN THE CRACK

BORN within the C R-A-C-K
of road and gutter fighting Tears like
no other feed me; feed us; save the
fetus [if not for the madness
within the air (BRAIN!)
maiming us_____/\/\
/\___]it’s okay to SCREAM\
the horror of this DAY!
oh rain oh rain oh REIN!
the virus of covered9’s
upSIDE down (listen now)
are three by three – OH!
–>digging within the brain
–no rain!

:: 07.10.2020 ::/
/
/
her mouth is like the
fine bust of all sounds
\life given /now re-
ceived/wander through space
my profound love with a
hidden face.

(could not help it)


COME BACK DOWN (from this cloud)

\what of love? What of hate?
i say no word as no one knows
shall see & feel the (k)not —
of what i need___
grinning and begging
are hands-machine-like
hearts of no good too
quick i know this !
oh never coming down
from this cloud; is hands
is work since born is good
//so should’a so should have
-things nothing i say
a pregnant size of one good
Yes completely Kind____this
immeasurable anguish like the
scent of summer flowers of always
their flowers of stone so silently
singing.

:: 07.03.2020 ::


DILAPIDATED ruinous. RUINOUS LOVE

i crawled deeply within rolling tossing Earth
rolling Hills — hot is the Sun as your Temper;
but focused upon You __ when you left me; (like my jealously)
— the Seasons sang, “What with you?  What with you?  What
with you?”  — sweet rolling & fallens: like a once-Living
jealously i possessed you and hated you___ the black taste
of Night — what with you what with you?
   -=-it’s me it’s me outside the Window of my Soul
  so dark so cold …
  who against Death?  against Light of Love?
   i am reminded of one named Rimbaud — my mantra,
my sweet-one my Monster;  never say good bye good bye
\but it’s me:  i cannot help feeling E,motions and
ripping all t hings aPart.  
Allow the gravity; allow the gravity (and ground)
to Grab you my beautiful dilapidation of RUINOUS
 Love!

what monster!

:: 05.10.2020 ::


OH SHIT I THINK LIFE SMELLS LIKE SKIN

OH SHIT I THINK LIFE SMELLS LIKE SKIN
oh life come   voices  to voice
oh lip to lip i smell citrus skin
oh well oh well hello
if i’m entertainment a lifetime of wisdom
it’s so me so assured i am a word with
little voiceMouth girl so dangerous i’m a
criminal in containment a dirty word hello
a sprite of air and blood; blessed is what
moves on and on and hello hello, i’m so well!
well! yea!  it’s been ‘hello’  a while so
hell on hell no i’m a weak girl yea yeah yea
you know:  acting stupid gave you a cold bed
YEAH!  yeah.  i saw you when i drove by
the highway (until hello i know hello) and you
looked dead //i forget while i taste
a smile of another well, well, never mind
oh hell oh well dammit i’m swell
i feel so stupid
feel so angelic
hello hell o’ hell
and i love my dreams
eating your soul
yeah–thighs spread
and there i found the sun
in a beautiful flesh of
my oh my oh my yeah
oh  yeah oh yeah oh yeah
oh  yeah oh yeah i love you!
a libido of fresh flowers
so hard to find that men
die trying and women oh
women try — birth, menstrual
pain and we hate each other
the feeling feelings feeling
feelings feel how we live
 — it’s a short block to the next
stop so drop a coin in the slot
oh shit i think life smells like skin
like me