Tag Archives: #thoughts

LITTLE KILL (that thing that kills)

In the realm of Poe’s eerie prose, there’s this decapitated hand making its way around.
Picture this: it’s floating above a city that looks like a giant chessboard, and it’s got some kind
of weird power over these glowing trees. Like, seriously intense fury that you can’t ignore.

It’s as if this hand used to be alive, and now it’s all confused, caught up in waves and snow,
and it’s collecting stuff with this amazing brilliance. And get this, it’s even cradling a child
in the jungle, in some mysterious diamond-shaped space. Crazy, right?

But wait, there’s more. People are loving reading about this hand’s adventures, and it’s like they’re
gathering stories from fires, transforming as they go. There’s this whole trippy vibe with delirious ferns
and lost goddesses dancing around, and their leader is this mystical song that’s just floating in the air.

This hand, or whatever it is, seems to have some kind of special power, almost like it’s holding a reserve of air.


It’s like a woman without arms, or a star with no roots—kind of mysterious and intriguing.

And get this, it’s also playing with the rain in a weirdly pleasurable way, creating this dawn with doors that
can actually move and inform people. Amongst all this, there are these winds made of clay, which are somehow related to tigers coming out to play. Wild stuff!

Then there’s this funky furniture that smells like bad luck, and it’s getting in on the action of some intense dreams, even biting the rain. And there’s talk of defending against cold dangers and snakes. Sounds like a pretty intense adventure!

And hold up, there’s this light show going on too. Spectral senses and quicksilver trees with buds popping out on furniture, leaving different footprints on the carpet. Shadows grazing like they’ve got some attitude, and volcanic-like eruptions adding to the chaos.

In the midst of all this craziness, there’s this intriguing whispering, like the stones have secrets to share. You gotta listen, man, ’cause it’s an enigmatic tale that Poe’s spirit is spinning with a ghostly touch.

:: 07.28.2023 ::


A BIRD WITHOUT A TREE

How does the heart fare when left alone,
Like a bird without a tree?

Days spent by the stream,
Observing swirling eddies and lily pads,
Twirling aimlessly,
Just as I am without you.

A bird without a tree,
Both of us yearning,
Imagining the bliss we could share.

Whispers of the wind
Utter the words I dare not speak,
Longing and melancholy,
Like a restless dream,
Beneath the earth, a seed takes root;
Someday, a tree will grow.

Two lovers nestled in a nest,
Knowing that life is love,
To be shared and cherished,
Both believing… love never perishes.

Casting aside the flesh, I soar,
Above the vast skies,
Even if it remains a fantasy,
As long as you are by my side,
Rebirth holds no less meaning,
For pain is the key to life.

::rev: 07.15.2023 ::


inthe.equisite

inthe.equisite; _ death of morning revelations bare >> ly i rode the chords of Life
among otherLittle roundtables SOUND: continues
slowly
the FRETS of my board burning arpeggios
and scales I devoured iNg.the
(green Elysian fields of after-last breathing
i kept. ) BOOM boom.
rivulet hips
eyes that eat ME — let me by your side
c loud-glass Moon is a sight we eat
healing cARVED smiles 🙂

perFUME skin-ed verbal mist-flowers
i EAT YOUR smiles and touch.

:: 05.25.2020 ::

Poet’s Notes:

I wrote the poem “inthe.equisite” as a poet wishing to press the walls — to make them move. I shall delve into its various elements to uncover its meaning and beauty. As a poet (yes, a poet), I am well-versed in the intricacies of language and the profound emotions it can convey. Let us embark on this poetic journey together!

Title: “inthe.equisite”

The title itself is intriguing, with its deliberate merging of words and the subtle play on letters. It hints at an exploration of something delicate, intricate, and perhaps even sublime. The fusion of “in” and “the” creates a sense of immersion, while “equisite” draws attention to an exquisite quality that awaits discovery.

Structure and Form:

Upon first glance, the poem appears to lack a traditional structure or form. It eschews conventional line breaks and punctuation, opting instead for a continuous string of words. This stylistic choice lends the poem a sense of fluidity and spontaneity, challenging the reader to engage with its free-flowing nature.

Themes and Imagery:

As a Ooet, I perceive multiple themes interwoven throughout the poem. The imagery employed is vivid and evocative, beckoning the reader to embrace a world of heightened senses and emotional depth.

Sensory Perception:

The poem entices the reader to engage with their senses. It paints a tapestry of sights, sounds, tastes, smells, and textures. Through carefully chosen words, it invites the reader to immerse themselves fully in the sensory experience, thereby evoking a heightened state of consciousness.

Nature and Transcendence:

Nature appears to be a recurring motif in the poem, symbolizing the connection between the human experience and the larger universe. The interplay of natural elements, such as wind, water, and celestial bodies, suggests a search for transcendence and a longing for something greater than oneself.

Emotional Intensity:

The poem is infused with a palpable emotional intensity. The use of fragmented words and phrases, coupled with the absence of traditional punctuation, creates a sense of urgency and raw emotion. It hints at a longing, a yearning, or even a profound sense of loss that resonates deep within the reader’s soul.

Conclusion:

“Inthe.equisite” is a poem that challenges traditional poetic conventions while embracing the power of language to evoke profound emotions and sensory experiences. Through its unique structure, vivid imagery, and emotional intensity, it invites the reader to embark on a personal journey of self-discovery and connection with the world around them. As a noble English poet, I commend the poet’s courage to push the boundaries of poetic expression and to invite readers to explore the exquisite within themselves.


LOVE’S LAUGHTER

She stood before me, dressed in sheer delicate fabric,
as the towering trees outside brushed their leaves
against windows, almost tauntingly close.

I sat in my armchair, hands clasped tightly, watching her every move
with a mix of awe and longing.

Seeing Emily Dickinson writing at her desk

Her petite feet, like works of art, trembled with pleasure on the floor.
As a stray beam of sunlight danced across her face, it illuminated her smile
and accentuated the curves of her body.

I leaned in and pressed my lips softly against her ankle, And she let out a soft,
musical giggle that filled the room.

Her laugh was like a symphony of sound,

And it made my heart skip a beat.

She said, “Phillip! Write!”

:: 02.28.2023 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS XV (Sonnet)

Sweet faith, come to me like a gentle breeze,
As darkness seeps, my soul seeks release.
My weather vane, once adorned with petals bright,
Now empty and forlorn, weeps in the night.

I stare above my fears, toward the sky,
And glimpse a golden glow that catches my eye.
It rises, kissing horizons with its embrace,
This is my faith, my dear, a saving grace.

Like a shower of blessings, my vane fills,
With the power of light, it gently thrills.
To feed my weathered soul, worn and tired,
Faith ignites a spark, in me, it’s fired.

With faith, I find solace in life’s cruel art,
It mends the broken pieces within my heart.
Like a symphony’s melody, sweet and pure,
Faith’s song envelops me, a divine cure.

Through trials and tribulations, it will guide,
With unwavering belief, I’ll walk beside.
The path unknown, my steps may falter,
But faith will lift me up, never to alter.

In the darkest night, faith becomes my light,
Illuminating my path, dispelling the fright.
It whispers courage, when I’m filled with doubt,
And in its embrace, I find strength throughout.

Oh, sweet faith, you’re a beacon of hope,
When life’s storms rage, you help me to cope.
Like a lighthouse standing tall in the storm,
Faith leads me to safety, keeps me warm.

A steadfast companion, through thick and thin,
Faith holds my hand, reminding me I’ll win.
In the face of adversity, I shall rise,
For faith’s unwavering belief never dies.

In the garden of life, faith’s the seed,
That blossoms into love, fulfilling our need.
Like a mighty oak, it stands tall and strong,
Guiding me forward, when things go wrong.

Faith is the gentle whisper in my ear,
When despair creeps in, filling me with fear.
It tells me to keep going, to never give up,
For with faith as my guide, I’ll reach the mountaintop.

Oh, faith, you’re the melody in my soul,
When I’m lost, you guide me back to my goal.
With your presence, I’m never truly alone,
For in faith’s embrace, I find a home.

Through life’s trials, faith becomes my shield,
Protecting me from wounds that never healed.
It guards my heart, keeping it safe and sound,
With faith by my side, I am always found.

With faith as my compass, I navigate,
Through the stormy seas, I never hesitate.
For I know, faith will lead me to the shore,
Where tranquility awaits, forevermore.

Oh, faith, you’re the anchor amidst the tide,
When the waves crash, you’re the strength inside.
You steady my heart, amidst life’s raging storm,
With faith’s unwavering presence, I transform.
Faith’s gentle touch brings comfort to my soul,
When sorrow takes its toll, and I feel less whole.
It wraps me in its arms, like a warm embrace,
With faith as my guide, I find my rightful place.

In the realm of possibilities, faith expands,
Opening doors, with hope it commands.
For where there’s faith, there’s endless potential,
To soar to new heights, beyond the conventional.

Oh, sweet faith, you’re the whisper of dreams,
When all seems lost, you ignite hope’s gleam.
You remind me of miracles, both big and small,
With faith, I believe, I can conquer it all.

Through faith’s lens, I see beauty unfold,
In the simplest moments, I witness stories untold.
It paints the world with colors so bright,
Filling my days with pure delight.

Faith is the melody that lifts my spirit high,
In its harmonious notes, my troubles die.
With each verse, it heals wounds deep within,
Restoring my faith in life, helping me begin.

Oh, faith, you’re the fire that fuels my soul,
Burning with passion, making me whole.
You ignite a spark, a flame deep inside,
With faith by my side, I fearlessly stride.

With faith as my guide, I conquer my fears,
For it strengthens my resolve, wipes away tears.
In faith’s gentle embrace, I find my worth,
Knowing I’m loved, even on this earthly turf.

Faith is the compass, pointing me true,
When the world’s distractions vie for my view.
It helps me stay focused on what truly matters,
Guiding me through life’s twists and tatters.

Oh, sweet faith, you’re the anchor of my being,
In your presence, my spirit finds its freeing.
You ground me in truth, love, and grace,
With faith as my guide, I find my rightful place.

Through faith, I see the beauty all around,
In every sunrise, every sight and sound.
It opens my eyes to life’s wonders untold,
With faith, I embrace a love that’s bold.

Sweet faith, you’re the key to my heart’s delight,
With you by my side, I’ll forever take flight.
In your embrace, I find strength and peace,
Oh, sweet faith, may your love never cease.

:: 07.10.2023 ::


A GIRL WITH KALEIDOSCOPE EYES

WHEN i think of my precious mind
and i am just down there
just one more wine ~~ we’ve all
gone crazy ., in the small room sitting
and thinking, “Just one more drink”

rolling inside the head /that had
me almost tied\ like butterflies
flying away bye bye | i saw her
: alice running inside the Rabbit
Hole \ reality hypnotized almost
had me tied || i now realize
how the never showers of rain
like dirt dammit — i am sick
and tired of my head but someone
saved me______almost had me roped
and tied ~~~ and like butterflies

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

We ate marsh mellow pies and coughed
a lung and used it as an umbrilla

The deep immortal human wish,
the timeless will:

           Cinquez its deathless primaveral image,   
           life that transfigures many lives.

   Voyage through death
                                 to life upon these shores.

And the line at the theater was long so we rode off
finding silver roads and lights within the skies

And Gluck said:

It is not the moon, I tell you.
It is these flowers
lighting the yard.

I hate them.
I hate them as I hate sex,
the man’s mouth
sealing my mouth, the man’s
paralyzing body—

and the cry that always escapes,
the low, humiliating
premise of union—

And lucy sings her song in the skies

:: 07.07.2023 ::


DOCTOR BEAKY OF ROME

AT the scene of suicide
plague doctor of Marseilles
stopped by with two small
nose holes in a mask;
a respirator containing
aromatic items — beak
holding dried flowers

Blessed is me
while i am a beak of terror
keeping away evil smells

All according to miasma theory
all my costume kills
before the children wail
so i am the plague doctor
of Marseilles aka ‘Dr
Beaky of Rome’
Follow me into the Sun

So follow me as One
such absurdity is life
to be born without a gun

i am the wounded One
you are the victim
the victim of life and love

:: 06-01-2016 ::

Poet’s Notes:

“Doctor Beaky of Rome” explores the theme of mortality and the role of a plague doctor in the context of the Marseilles plague.

The poem opens with a vivid scene of suicide, drawing attention to the dark and morbid atmosphere.

The presence of the plague doctor, characterized by the two small nose holes in the mask and a beak holding dried flowers, highlights the doctor’s role in combating the plague and protecting against harmful odors.

The phrase “Blessed is me” suggests that the plague doctor finds a sense of purpose and fulfillment in his terrifying task of warding off evil smells and the threat of disease. The reference to the miasma theory reflects the prevailing belief at the time that diseases were caused by noxious odors or “miasmas.” The doctor’s costume is seen as a form of protection that inadvertently contributes to the deaths it seeks to prevent.

The line “before the children wail” implies that the doctor’s presence and actions may cause distress and fear among those he aims to save. Despite this, he continues his duty as the plague doctor, earning the nickname “Dr Beaky of Rome” for his association with the city. The phrase “Follow me into the Sun” could be interpreted as an invitation to face the harsh reality of life, even in the face of suffering and death.

The subsequent stanza introduces a shift in perspective, urging readers to embrace life’s absurdities and contradictions. The phrase “such absurdity is life” suggests that the inherent contradictions and unpredictability of life are inevitable and must be accepted. The line “to be born without a gun” metaphorically conveys the idea that life itself is inherently vulnerable and fragile.


Love

And I loved everyone
and loved.

I did alone.

:: 07.03.2023 ::


THIEVING SCENTS: A FLORAL LAMENT

As I gazed at the violet up ahead, I scolded:

Oh, sneaky thief, where did you steal the sweet dew from?
Was it not from the gentle breath of my beloved?

The regal shade that blushes on your cheek,
I know it was crudely stained by my lover’s veins, so true.

Because of your touch, I condemned the beautiful lily,
And took the buds of marjoram from your hair.

The roses, trembling on their thorny bed, in despair,
One blushed with shame, one turned pale with distress.

A third, neither red nor pure white, dared
To steal from both colors and claim your breath, a thieving guest.

But for its theft, a cankerworm, proudly aware,
Devoured its growth, consumed in miserable unrest.

I observed more flowers, yet not a single one
Escaped your thieving of fragrance and color, my beloved.

:: 07.02.2023 ::


SILENT EYES AND FRAGILE HANDS

SOMEWHERE, I’ve wandered gladly, far from known,
No prior journey mirrors what I’ve found.

Your eyes, in silence, hold a realm unknown,
In fragile gestures, mysteries abound.

Your gentle gaze can swiftly set me free,
Though I, like closed fingers, sought to conceal.

You, like spring unfolding, unfetter me,
With artful touch, revealing love’s ideal.

Yet if your desire is to keep me closed,
My life shall close in beauty, swift and grand.

Like snowfall on a flower, heart composed,
Imagining a world covered in white sand.

No earthly sight can match your fragile might,
Whose textured essence captivates my soul,

Infusing death and eternity in flight,
With each breath, harmonizing as a whole.

I cannot fathom what it is in you,
That both shuts tight and opens wide the door.

But something deep within me grasps the view,
Your eyes’ voice resonates, surpassing more.

No entity, not raindrops in their fall,
Possesses hands as tender as your own.

In their small grasp, the world’s wonders enthrall,
A touch that whispers secrets yet unknown.

:: 06.29.2023 ::