Tag Archives: #words

THE SMELL OF A WET DOG

(I preface this with: FUCK YOU)

I ONCE made love to a corpse
it was still warm with lies
It was bad weather like her eyes
AND she asked, “have you ever
fucked a living soul?”

Then, once, as I remembered:

“Within the absence or presence
of sun once I laid with a woman
and gave her subsistence by love
only to be hated by her.

Death only wants more death.
And her corpse’s flies ate her
through and through.

:: 02.09.2022 ::


A BOY AND HIS PRIVATE WAR

The boy is working very quickly now, Mariketa; very fast.

A blue light spreads through the garden, enough to make the plants wilt but not kill them.
He’s collecting knowledge so quickly, Mariketa, that we’ll lose our advantage.
He’ll get away, Mariketa.

Why?

He thinks that the white wolf can control a dark servant; and we’d lost our one such, the Butcher.
Can he?

We need to send the boy back to die.

She’s talking to me through the Wolf of the North.
The Butcher of the Red Brotherhood, the Butcher that should have been destroyed years ago, that he should have killed years ago …

The Wolf was silent.

The Trollocs have the field.

I feel them move on the far side of the river, not too far.
Can they turn that loose, to come on here?

No, I don’t think they can.

Their beasts can’t cross the river with their backpacks and soldiers and equipment.
The wolves are too small.

I can sense the other beasts moving in the distance, hundreds of them, coming to the caravan.
It’s a war party, a massive one.

The wolves, though, cannot cross the river.
How large is the caravan?

I don’t know.

I only know that the Trollocs are looking to turn loose a good many beasts here.
He makes a move with his head, as if nodding to her.
He’s saying, “We move the battalion, take these beasts and flee.”
So he’s gone.

I let him go, Mariketa.

He will take the unicorn.

I sense it.

His demise is only a matter of time.

The land is left over, the Grey-Jeweled Queen, and the River Raedah.
No others come to us.

The three armies turn and march back toward the tents.
There, the work starts all over.

The army camps downriver has retreated to the riverbank, providing a covering fire to turn back the Trollocs on the road.

The tents are ready, the tent troops and riding troops have been gathered.

Tales and councils are given to the men to get them moving.

The fires were taken out as soon as the supplies were unloaded, and the area is being kept dark.
That means this part of the plan is at last done.

:: 02/07/2022 ::


PARAGRAPHS OF DISCOVERING ME

LONG winter days
then City nights
Unplowed fields
full of snow
lit by millions of lights

Wearing tears from living
Wonderous painful life
Not sure what it’s suppose to be
Oh love if it’s not the world
then it must be me

A lover first for words
i believe in paragraphs of
discovering me; a lover’s thirst
for humanity —

the poet does not envy
does not boast
and is never proud

without a pencil we crumble
toward the ground____
the paper; a scroll of the soul
for all eternity.

:: 02.09.2022 ::


BLESS YOUR HEART FOR THE SONG YOU SING

I’d kiss your lips;

Crush them like grapes,
and lick up the sweet juice.
You’d smile at my kiss;
You’d turn, and let me go
to go far away.

Then, like the girl in the fairy tale
you’d try to outwit me
and return once more
to that thought, which you knew,
that still creeps upon your sleep,
the thought that it should

Be this way, somehow, all of the time.

All the time. For me.
Always for me.

Because that’s all you ever wanted to know.
And that’s all I ever wanted to tell you.
God bless your heart for the Song you Sing.

:: 02.05.2022 ::


i am small BUT

i

AM small BUT

GREATLY expansive

the little Rivers
appear large
to small eyes
they(while)ATE
wheat Harvest Mice
twitchingly mild
dancing smoke-TIME
inside

::02.01.2022 ::


CONGLOMERATE UNIVERSES

IF four nails secured the Cross of Life
should i entirely ask of god why Tiger Mart
sells deluxe burritos but 7-11 has hot dogs
happily the uninformed droop bloated question
marks — like a scar across the mile of
my sacred walks_____

And if i should receive an answer more or less
deserved, God go in peace and spawn a supermarket
and wall street to rape all mankind from their
health and well-being –infinitely in your
schizo’d deity-mind.

So i wish to meet a girl who has a womb of happiness
to spawn a new universe! Please?
her tiniest whispering
invitation is like a clock
striking my heart \oh shit! tic toc yes tockey tic.

:: 08-08-2015 ::


LOVERS STRETCH LIFE UPON NARROW BEACHES

WE breathed
Yes? Did not you say:

“The shore is long but
narrow like life.”

My dearest soul
you make me believe
Art is more than Life
and so you took my heart
into those wondrous
moments of our secret
life.

i am not that bold nor so cold
to say we made the universe colorful.

And my gentle soul it’s
been just moments ago
but now my need is stronger
:saying how much i love you
we breathed
yes! The shores are long
and life so short my lover!

:: 08-21-2015 ::


THE VEIN OF A COLORFUL TREE

i sang tangerine
tune-summer ending bursting
green fields of your heart
we laughed running through
ivory key-feet swiftly: chasing
life down into her brook of water
toe-tipped dipping prose :: you
are me and i am Y((ou))
writing poetry inked by leaves
we took the tree to task
and she gave her leaf of
color for the book we write
the words of our love

no: oh, tell it to
the world — they may never
care! for P O E T R Y

:: 08-21-2015 ::


Sleepers In Their Graves

That there were no Souls in the World – and no one there to blame – but Me.

That terrible sobs that took the time to lick a Heart that had forgotten how to sob, or even how to whisper, were redoubled into shrieks, and they kept me from laughing.

O heart of Mine, why do you howl?

If Thou wouldst die, then in vengeance thy Redeemer of Whom, Whose Heart was my own, and whose Whistle blew wild through the Rails, and who, at one moment when the Gate was open, as he reached the top of the Jail, and searched the Valley of Doom.

To find my Prisoner there, and to know that his Out-cries had been so wretchedly contrived, and, because they cried out so piteously, were not stopped at once!

How dare thou, thou Death, laugh? If Thou didst laugh at this, and the world now knows the Death that has come to me, in consequence of the Puny Strength with which Thine own weakness left Me.

Let the judgment of all come in, and they make the old curse true and then i should not be sad.

For those mourners, the unquiet were they – how the Sleepers in the Grave would cry:

“Those poor Souls!

Is there one Death, for another?”

But though all sleep sound those that dream are always sad. i had a Brother, i knew, who went for a Passenger, and his Friend had brought him, and held his hand when we left.

The Station – and in the Coach the Friend held up his Heart.

“Poor Brother, my Friend, have you never had Love?”

And his Friend said, “I don’t know that I ever had.”

Then they were gone.

And in my Brain, with a Funeral, i cried, “My Brother has gone!”

When my Brother and his Friend were lost i knew, in my Brain, that i should not die – yet they had gone from me for ever and for ever.

All the Earth is a city of Death – the Sun that has shone bright and cast up its golden rays must fade into Night, and the air shall turn cold, and the day will vanish like the evening:

when the Sun goes down, and it is Dark upon the Mountain.

Even the Stars, when the Sun is hot fade, and there are not as many as there once were.

The very Earth which gave brightness to the Branches of the Tree shall wither and die and fade, and the Blue of the sky will dissolve, and the Earth Will shake and fall into the Sea.

The City of Death in which we live is like a great Prison under the Earth.

The Clouds that surround us and Sooth our Sorrows are but Cloths that cover the Dome of the Pitiless Heaven – the Void where such Rulers as are but Planets, like our own shall reign.

We have no Ruler who rules by Love, no View from Heaven, no Vision from the Stars, no One to give us a Joy that would pass all our cares when we are set upon a Mountain, sighing over the Valley of Sorrow, whether our Heartbeats cease.

Luna can but smile when She sees we have passed the Point.

Where the Blue West gives the Shade of Night, and the Tree is pierced with Cold – and the Night of Light does not come but the Winter wanes.

And all mankind is contained in the Castle of Death.

There is no Labor which an Angel can give, there is no Beauty, there is no Joy,

There is no Heaven.

So for us there is the Earth, and the Flock that bares all whose Flying
is but Death and Murder, and Death’s distant Call, and it is Death, of all things, that gives us all:

That Taste of Beauty.

While we fly on the Wings of Love, and with our Tears water the Earth
with our Love, our Wings go, and with our Corpse Land to fall upon the Earth.

With the Time comes the Age
When Love is heard
And no ear has ever heard it,
with the Age comes the Age
when Men look up, and no eye has ever gazed upon
no Green Earth – when the Tree is cut down the Earth is bare.

From Blame to Blame
From Sorrow to Sorrow
From Darkness to Darkness
And Death lies on Earth –
The Land, the Water, the Earth,
The Birds and Animals,
And Man – The Land, the Water, the Earth,
The Birds and Animals,
And Man – like the Wings of Love
The Kingdom of the Earth Is a Prison
Under the Earth.

When will We see our Land?
When will We fly away?
When will we light the Nights?
When will we light the Nights?
So my Song is very solemn,
But I hope in it one Hour

When we shall find our Land.
When the Day of Retribution
Is ended, and the sky is blue
and the Sun shines, and all that was buried
in the Dark of Night, shall come to Life.

The Earth shall be green,
The Trees shall yield fruit,
The Green of their Leaves shall radiate
all over the Earth.

We shall catch our Breath,
wnd thank God,
whose Love brought us together,
and made us Wings
for his Flock,

To fly away – the Wings of love.

My Story:

‘His Love is the Light that
shone in the World, 0when the Sun of Love
and the Golden Child was born in the Cave of Life.

And then the Angels said,
“Fetch the Child, bring him forth,
that he may be king of his Kingdom
but let it be done, in the Cave of Life –
therein he may reign

as Father and Son, for the King of Men
must not reign alone.”

They called the Child and said to him,
“Arise, Unto the King of all
the Happy Isle of Love
where You reign as
Emperor of Love.

The Angels called again the King of Love
and said to him, “Arise, unto the King of all
the Happy Isle of Love where You reign as
Emperor of Love.

And the King of Love Speak!”

“If you will not come with me
then fly away!
Fly away!
Fly away!
Let me be alone!”
And the King of Love left the cave of Life
And went up to the Heavens, and came down
and placed upon the Earth

all the Things that Matter.

:: 01.25.2021 ::


Sprawling Glass

SITTING so pretty was that Thing
under a one-in-a-million-year Sun
so here i am inside my small world
kicked off my worries like a little bird
seriously knotted inside a ball without
shoelace: every time i talk to you it
seems you throw yourself inside a psychological
cheat /don’t ever allow them to see you please\
dying skies heave a breath AND
nuns turn the pages of gnostic gothic novels
all caught up in their sticky grace only one smiles
truely and how they think they’ve won
only because the shit has hit the wall
so never let them see you beat feet
it’s the One’s call (break! break the mirror
of perception and eat the sprawling glass inside
your Inner Light).

:: 01.11.2022 ::