The adelite dust settling
Smothering--
Coppertinted foot prints
Where we once played Graces
Sullen with Pride...
The Sun splayed&shimmering abaft
Our collectif
Charnel houses...
Bronze hued&
Yonder the fields of Spelt:
Putrid plumage,
Melancholy of Season--
Ashened from Time
Immemorial--
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
Beneath the Moor
MarkedandMuddy--
Our footprints forlorn
In eons begotten &
Charnel Houses
Immemorial--
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 9:10 PM UTC
The Magellanic Clouds,
virid up above;
the light of Streets
the rubberstamped rooms
the Winding Clock --
Shuttering forth
Houses expulsed by
the Wind:
beating in double Time.
Arias bursting,
Dissipating --
between Ears gushing
out.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
While my heart lay
sanguine
on dirt-studded Snow,
(spliced straight through
with memories of
Me&You)
She, (my Sun coppery&glossy glowing yonder East),
looks
through tussled
maligner
ing eyes;
through
honeycomb shades
&eyes timeworn with
pride; and teacups chipped in
daunting morning
ritual.
But these, thee,
thou my flower bed,
thou will riseandshine as
Thebes did
anew.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
the suns soft soothing rays:
golden, gleaming.
honeysuckling throughout the field
where you used to play.
your childhood waning with the moon
the sweet grass once a forest:
never ending. a story that
strayed between you and I.
ere long the wind blows,
and tousles your hair.
a glint in your hazelnut eyes
straying towards my plane.
so I linger for a mile:
listlessly, illusory.
and I saw your sweet smile
hidden beneath the mire.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 8:56 PM UTC
The Sea speckling waves, I -
Watched the seafoam stretched
Yonder - azure and proud -
Upon the sea cliff,
Standing tall peering down,
Waves crashing upon the
Seashore shivering cold.
Lost in poesy, alas I -
Peered down the air
Gelid, humming from within a
Gilted and melodic tune -
As thrice I looked back
Your sordid gaze a hazey
Interlude to the crimson tide.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
I have died
on the cities
and moors.
Avenues great gold
and
Godly.
Where the antelope
Walk
With eyes pointed
Northerly
The seascape far and
W i d e.
Bright eyes and
Misty days
None are left
They've all turned olive green
As bees fly
down
wind
Whispering with gilted
Tongues
Slithering
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
Under the Sky
with the Moon hung
light Gold
and
Silver.
My nature hung
Free -
Dancing down the
Avenues
with Glee -
The Strangers i've Seen
with misty eyes red
Gleaming -
In the Night
past the Wreathes
where the Birds nestle in
their
Nests.
Strangers walking aglow dandy & grey
Avenues stretched endlessly
Mannequins, street lights,
all tranquil:
waving
You
By.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
Under the Bridge, along the Promenade: we
walked with words trickling through our
waxy lips. Where the Seafront was all silk.
Where the Waxwings, sealed wax tips,
lumbered about the Empyrean yonder:
splayed upon a Canvas
of Sapphire and Azure.
Before the Starry Night has come.
Before we reached the Shore only to
Digress.
"Liebe verleiht Flügel,"
I heard, or read in a Book.
The Streets are crimson rust;
The Spectators in Sanitariums watched
drab passersby. They shambled and
coughed admixt the crowded room, only
to find the Peristyle vacant and dead.
A Mantic Women, cards of dread,
stands on the corner; our
eyes catched, and She speaks:
"Wo bist du?"
"Wo bist du?"
Louder and fists shaking:
"Wo bist du?"
The buildings doddered, filled with
Cuscuta.
In Montauk, where we met, now withered,
covered in snow, I stood - my comportment
unsteady. Flashing in the distance I see
Point Light - Captain Kidd musing with his
Money Ponds - an Angel guiding wonderous
blights - The Recognitions, blimey,
Mr. Gaddis has gone blind - The Faustian
apotheosis abound -
The Streets are crimson rust
filled with dread.
Smelling of Jack-by-the-hedge -
I'm walking...
Noctivagant aura permeates -
Mich.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 8:18 PM UTC
Luscious lemons in your silky hair waving as you saunter down the gilted avenue. From my seat, all buckling unsturdy, your redlovely lips upon pearl face gaze my way. The old women on wooden tables kneading their Orecchiette with daughters all drawn and hasty. Brahmana passing by in tight little groups. Proverbs whispered from sealed lips. The Sun near the Gondolas passing en plein air. Pigeons splayed upon the etherized Sky all-atwitter with thought. And I see you passing through the marketsquare: afire with meadowsweet dress. The violins quivering a crescendo of Baroque notes as you turn a sorrowful glance, but, alas, it's lost in the crowd.
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 8:15 PM UTC