simplicity oozes out with every breath
not a "fuck it" attitude
but a let come what may disposition
long fine fingers
ending in guitar string calluses
mestizo skin kissed by Apollo
and the eyes
always the eyes
a color which has no name
other than stunning
and hips and thighs and hindquarters
knock on the door which leads
to primal masculinity
and proceeds to leave it dumbfounded
a voice which sounds like
the nursery rhymes
mothers have read to their children
all over the world
all throughout time
a bashful smile never far from the lips
with hair like liquid chestnuts
and a heart which beats
like a caged robin
her name is
His dark eyes
beat to drums,
vibrations sounding off like
over the great mass of men.
His helm is crimson steel,
carved bull-shape and snorting,
its horns bowed
towards the moonlit hills of sand.
His armor is ocean dark,
and ringing in chains.
He clasps his iron lover at waist side,
gropes its warm bronze hilt,
remembering there are no stories
in the battle itself,
only the shock of sword against sword
pulsing down his forearms;
the stink of sweat
and struck flesh;
the roar of the dying;
the silence of the dead.
When war is found
his battle cry is the sun,
blade unsheathing like a wet black root.
Morality melts into strands
of molten straw;
the greed of man rendered irrelevant;
the scent of cold bark forgotten;
time devoured by beastly instinct.
His movements become thought,
his thoughts movement;
his body and sword curved
and curving towards death,
his forearms hard as chains,
painted red, and slashing
in a frenzy of limb.
None who encounter him on the field
survive to share their awe of his dance.
Most nights his grace is wasted
under the soft cackle of torchlight
filling the air behind him like broken leaves,
and the tired beating of drums
echoing across empty sands.
The pounding lasts until dawn.
then the caravan settles,
his beast kin finding shelter from the day
under horsehide tents.
He alone stays up with the ancient watchmen,
listening to their stories
of towers made of silver,
and of men who walk like beasts;
of palaces built upon lake-skin,
and of islands
where Apollo dares not tread.
Then he wanders off,
swinging his sword at the birthing light,
its rippled black iron
wreathed in gold.
My body a float, my ships ablaze
drifting into the last whisps of haze.
I stare into the sun
and feel it glare right past me.
Wind whips my face, hair adrift in mirk
I think back to when that devious smirk
sent me away
and doomed all of my men...
The sand gripped me back, on the beach of my birth
twas the first step I took, into the future, inevitable dearth.
Doomed from the start
but far too blind to see
There on her pedestal, she once was my queen
this far from the shore, her gaze has no chains on me.
twas the hero of yore
absent my name, in the lore
The villain she made me, the destroyer of homes
wasting innocent people, a case of Fomes
has tainted my heart
and wilted me from the inside
Irreparable the damage of that Asp in the sand
holding me close, promising her hand
and cast me away
cast me away
cast me away
Sickly and venom-ridden, my soul and my mind
dreams of the woman who I must soon chide
I float in the mirk
Apollo wont watch me now
I pray to a god, in hopes I catch ear
and am given a chance to return from here
return from here
hand wrapped around spear
cast away away from home
into parts unknown
dying cold in the waters
most stranger to me
most stranger to me
Dear gods hear my plee
give me one last chance
to exact my revenge
and pay my way home
down straight into hell
with her head in my hands
Shallow eye-light guiding my way
I hope y'all like it
The music blares loud enough to shake the car,
but not clear, because the cable is kinda screwy
so that every time
he hits a pothole
the music melts into
teeth rattling vibrations
and the breeze gushes in through the temporal openings
threatening to blow
the card parking pass
out the window
into the vast pleasant outside world
the sun burns down from space
turning the world warm with childhood nostalgia
and chlorophyll green lampshades
hanging from chocolate brown trees
paint the world with an aura of emeralds
and the spedometer plays Apollo
rising higher on its arc
twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, ect.
the rush of speed becomes deafening
and the hot asphalt road rises,
and he controls its will
with the easy gliding of the leather steering wheel
and an easy smile
driving with the windows down
A man like no other
His majesty overtook
every creature's mind
A goddess nonetheless
Was not immune
To Orion's loveliness
Passion drove the two
Into a lover's whirlwind
Happy and gay were they
Until envy overcame another's heart
Did not want his sister corrupt
So a sinful plan was made
Clueless was he
That he was to be a crime of jealousy
Artemis was fooled to shoot
the speck on the horizon
Little did she know
It was the man that made her heart leap
She murdered her love
With a single arrow
And weeped many a tear,
Never suspecting Apollo
The goddess prayed to Astraea
That her sweetheart be saved
And had the beautiful man
Preserved in the stars
Until this very day
this morning we denied the sun
forbid apollo from trespassing
through our windows
night continued as we slept
on and on
our eyes closed in the darkness
our bodies wrapped together
and the magnificent sun
the treacherous, hateful thing
I’d write you a song, but we’re not ancient romans.
Nor am I particularly skilled. No -
I’ll make you a mix-tape. But then, you already
Like all the pop songs which sum us up. So,
What to do, what to do. How does one win a heart
These days? Romance is “dead”, so how to woo?
I’ll bake you cookies, cut them out in hearts, if that’s
Not too much american housewife. You
Should try them anyway. To the point, now, tricking
Kissing from Apollo. Nymph am I not.
You’re out of my league; your following is mine times
Six. I guess this poem is all I’ve got.
I did not know your eyes were blue
Small suns ring your pupils
As you come closer
You become significant
light blurs my vision
You make my toes curl
Apollo is come
Dionysus cuts loose
[ lovers are burning.] balsamic nudity gallops from shame
into the overwild wetness of labial volcanoes, carmelized in musk. by love's labor.
laid bare, their bodies origami inhibition...[ lovers are burning. ]
and surrender is victorious !
eros is speechless. maidens howl into cumuulus goose-down, chewing carnel haikus
with swayed backs.... hips wide and wanton. masculine wands plow oyster beds, unmade.
they joust pearls... and [ lovers are burning ]
.... a damp conflagration; tongue stoked and windswept, conspires.
monotony is slain !
puritan harps are plucked and thrummed ! lewd harmonies annoint the perfect pitch
and a chorus moans. the ghost of sylvia plath, straddles Apollo; and he earns his wreath
surging besotted. [ lovers are burning ] and laurels forgotten.
lotharios charge the seldom road; the starfish door to saturn's parlor.
pumping unbridled, that glistening, cloven moon. her riding crop insists !
his urgency must do.
satyrs sup salaciously and summon staves to dip in brine. they grin and grind
their sutras, stripping karma gears with silk scarves. ankles to a post, well spread...
cushions crush. flowers press... stamin fed.
nymphs clutch their serpent stones
to drain what nectar slips the slit. they grope and throat.
they peck and pinch their quivers; knock their arrows to the purpose, half spent.
[ lovers are burning ]
eyes ablaze. nostrils fetch randy fumes of consent. mouths seek.
a pouty swamp with spanish moss finds a matador
and a bull, a china shop.
lovers are burning the rough sketch of a lost god
and their angels are voyeurs
with unclean thoughts
I gathered all my courage and affection together
and after time of carefully holding it dear to my heart those feelings turned to a ball of light.
Day by day it became harder to hold onto, more painful to keep and evermore lonesome tucked within my embrace with nowhere to go.
These feelings became a burden filled with courage and affection.
I wanted to abandon it, to forget it, to replace it with a lighter burden-
but such a fate I know all to well as unbearable to share.
Slowly I became a soul damned to walk the earth burdened by my own feeling like a spirit trapped in limbo by it's own lingering feelings.
Just as I wanted to curse my petty existence,
to denounce the joy I once felt and to empty my heart for the darkness to feed
I looked up one last time and saw what I had been so blind to notice.
As if Apollo himself whisked upon the the darkening sky to free my plagued soul
I found the answer out from this onus.
The sky has become filled with lights burning as bright as mine
so I threw my orb beyond the horizon that lay before me.
Hopefully this light filled with my courage and affection will reach.
My burden is freed and I can live again.
What lies in the future all depends on you;
who lies on the other side of my world.