bowsnarrows - Hello Poetry

You're just visiting on the weekends suffering from lunaphilia and searching for the All-Mother (Purnavasu) Our Lady Sorrows with the golden chord around her waist and starlet tears begins again (Achey blue-black Kali knows it) If I had something to nurture- A baby being bathed in the kitchen sink and that orphan who becomes apart of the background married to the foliage-Growing ivy all around the room... Sharp green leaves of palm trees clinging to a semblance of security Illuminated by drops of twisting Sun Kaleidoscopic light spread across insular rooms Daemonic-feathered creatures dancing on an acid lake Marble headed and frothy bearded Chipped-painted Proportionate forms of fleshy architecture Chewing gum until it looses flavor I can’t sit here for forever Pinning is for the crows Dusting it off like my old memories in December Living in a snow globe The reflection is stained by a Thunderbirds long sleek fang

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Sep 25, 2020

Sep 25, 2020 at 9:32 PM UTC

Santa Barbara (Seahorse)

You're just visiting on the weekends suffering from lunaphilia and searching for the All-Mother (Purnavasu) Our Lady Sorrows with the golden chord around her waist and starlet tears begins again (Achey blue-black Kali knows it) If I had something to nurture- A baby being bathed in the kitchen sink and that orphan who becomes apart of the background married to the foliage-Growing ivy all around the room... Sharp green leaves of palm trees clinging to a semblance of security Illuminated by drops of twisting Sun Kaleidoscopic light spread across insular rooms Daemonic-feathered creatures dancing on an acid lake Marble headed and frothy bearded Chipped-painted Proportionate forms of fleshy architecture Chewing gum until it looses flavor I can’t sit here for forever Pinning is for the crows Dusting it off like my old memories in December Living in a snow globe The reflection is stained by a Thunderbirds long sleek fang

20

Foggy breeze through my fingertips when sunburnt days seem coveted in memory. When the columbines came back from the dead. Burnt up cities... The last glimpse of firefly lights grew dim behind me The trees sprouted everywhere like stardust The pillars I once worshipped in incense with amulets became faded ruins... The weathered walls texture were like sequins with no glimmer I escaped again to a place with green lakes and forrests of pines It's quieter up here in the mountains Like a shudder through the window I hear the old house moan all through the day and all through the night The sunlight pierces through the blinds illuminating his face which is already illuminated But you're my bumblebee that insignia- a honey gatherer If you subtract the intimacy out of *** Nothing's left, but hollow mechanical ******* Stealing the rythmn from the music Sturdy as a beam I lay Unable to grasp at anything It's just noise Sweaty day, shivering nights-juxtaposed It's like living on Mercury In decomposition like a basket of rotten lemons Past conversations crush their weight against my open ribs No parent teacher or friend told me how all consuming the sensation would be... Dazed eyes staring through disheveled blinds, I was dropping rose buds off the second floor balcony in the night They hit the scratchy asphalt like a gentle meteor shower Monotonous nights replay the same phases That moon... A face splashing from gibbous to crescent Waning on my malady Always stirring like a steady torch

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Mar 1, 2018

Mar 1, 2018 at 2:40 AM UTC

NEON

Foggy breeze through my fingertips when sunburnt days seem coveted in memory. When the columbines came back from the dead. Burnt up cities... The last glimpse of firefly lights grew dim behind me The trees sprouted everywhere like stardust The pillars I once worshipped in incense with amulets became faded ruins... The weathered walls texture were like sequins with no glimmer I escaped again to a place with green lakes and forrests of pines It's quieter up here in the mountains Like a shudder through the window I hear the old house moan all through the day and all through the night The sunlight pierces through the blinds illuminating his face which is already illuminated But you're my bumblebee that insignia- a honey gatherer If you subtract the intimacy out of *** Nothing's left, but hollow mechanical ******* Stealing the rythmn from the music Sturdy as a beam I lay Unable to grasp at anything It's just noise Sweaty day, shivering nights-juxtaposed It's like living on Mercury In decomposition like a basket of rotten lemons Past conversations crush their weight against my open ribs No parent teacher or friend told me how all consuming the sensation would be... Dazed eyes staring through disheveled blinds, I was dropping rose buds off the second floor balcony in the night They hit the scratchy asphalt like a gentle meteor shower Monotonous nights replay the same phases That moon... A face splashing from gibbous to crescent Waning on my malady Always stirring like a steady torch

56

A palpable discord keeps me turning all through the night until the late rays of Sun shine by again I want a dreamcatcher Feathery-spider web- To keep my hypnagogic rest sacred to me And then I can wish him closer... Without a separating sea I reserved my sleep to calmer nights where my dainty ribs caressed an incense-ridden wind My dreams are a shade happier than me I found my wrists bedecked in fine jewelery There's no chiming of antique clocks in my sleepy subconscious knots. My eyes were not corrosed over so when he spoke I comprehended with crystal orbs I'd hoped I find him through disheveled bedsheets under the waxing moon... It illuminated my skin and sent me soundly reveling in the hazy countenance To me he's Elvis' love child He's a wish fulfilled to me I discovered an idol I write letters, coveted, held close I worship what I know of him My thoughts are almost this tangible-thing like a rope I could grab and make a knoose out of perhaps it's time to slay the golden bull I struck his wayward glance by some silver spring of snow He's travelled to the ruins of cathedrals with chipped limestone on the doors arched-shape... darkness on the otherside... Mother Mary follows, walking through some threshold hallway Crooked stem, bent leaves... A pruned up crackled rose for me to eat Those eyes... dark brown, almond-shaped Squinty with sparrow-feet I'm waiting in the mountains Clouds covering my eyes Ocean blue in the stark sunshine blinding me and enveloping me when the music dies

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Sep 15, 2017

Sep 15, 2017 at 1:20 AM UTC

Dreamcatcher

A palpable discord keeps me turning all through the night until the late rays of Sun shine by again I want a dreamcatcher Feathery-spider web- To keep my hypnagogic rest sacred to me And then I can wish him closer... Without a separating sea I reserved my sleep to calmer nights where my dainty ribs caressed an incense-ridden wind My dreams are a shade happier than me I found my wrists bedecked in fine jewelery There's no chiming of antique clocks in my sleepy subconscious knots. My eyes were not corrosed over so when he spoke I comprehended with crystal orbs I'd hoped I find him through disheveled bedsheets under the waxing moon... It illuminated my skin and sent me soundly reveling in the hazy countenance To me he's Elvis' love child He's a wish fulfilled to me I discovered an idol I write letters, coveted, held close I worship what I know of him My thoughts are almost this tangible-thing like a rope I could grab and make a knoose out of perhaps it's time to slay the golden bull I struck his wayward glance by some silver spring of snow He's travelled to the ruins of cathedrals with chipped limestone on the doors arched-shape... darkness on the otherside... Mother Mary follows, walking through some threshold hallway Crooked stem, bent leaves... A pruned up crackled rose for me to eat Those eyes... dark brown, almond-shaped Squinty with sparrow-feet I'm waiting in the mountains Clouds covering my eyes Ocean blue in the stark sunshine blinding me and enveloping me when the music dies

66

I met him one night in December... close to Christmas Eve When I walked in he had candles lit and some scotch for us to drink His peepers are dark and squinty His laugh is warm and lovely His voice is satin spiked with honey He drinks purple-graped-red-wine He resembles Dionysos Nature as a male He works with cryptic messages Amalgams and his speach is a rainbow of different languages Could of sworn I've met this man in some dreamy distant place... Palaces of concertos ringing when I study his copper face I had a restless wistfulness... A particular soulful malnutrition That eventually dissipated in our bathtub conversation I swear I would cross oceans In the hope that we might meet again I understand he has a habit of diving into fountains... He dances with gypsies on the street Sometimes I fail to see how someone as worldly as he could like someone like me I call when he runs by Vesuvius I want his extra time I always forget the 7 hour time difference but... when we talk it makes me smile

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Aug 17, 2017

Aug 17, 2017 at 12:02 AM UTC

Him

I met him one night in December... close to Christmas Eve When I walked in he had candles lit and some scotch for us to drink His peepers are dark and squinty His laugh is warm and lovely His voice is satin spiked with honey He drinks purple-graped-red-wine He resembles Dionysos Nature as a male He works with cryptic messages Amalgams and his speach is a rainbow of different languages Could of sworn I've met this man in some dreamy distant place... Palaces of concertos ringing when I study his copper face I had a restless wistfulness... A particular soulful malnutrition That eventually dissipated in our bathtub conversation I swear I would cross oceans In the hope that we might meet again I understand he has a habit of diving into fountains... He dances with gypsies on the street Sometimes I fail to see how someone as worldly as he could like someone like me I call when he runs by Vesuvius I want his extra time I always forget the 7 hour time difference but... when we talk it makes me smile

39

City lamps in clusters of concrete On 18th and Sherman street The cars pass by scanning me Each unsound engine roaring Darting pupils I feel it on my externals On my lips and phalanges Intruding glances cascading over my silhouette Deja-vu-like resemblances, strange Sunken cheeks look bizarre and blotchy as the socket drains something toxic to the veins that's permeated the future in an instant, like a comet, encandescent and shimmering like a scale, the awareness fades Like some dreary mirage I remember those little band aids Vintage carnival tickets discarded on the scratchy ground.. Blue-violet bruises The paradox of pleasure A vague creature in it's discomfort sitting in defiance and quivering my sentences It reminded me of those incandescent bugs that smush into Chryslers With a curled lip, bulging eyes and ******* up tongue... Antennaes intertwined like Twizzlers Making peace with all that's stung as the windshield wipers turn on Some black tar-smack-oil- ****** My generation consists of inheriting environmental destruction and mal-parenting Global warming. Animal extinction. Polluting the oceans. Deforestation. Biting shards off night-time to suffice for the daily pangs Shuffling the dregs of karma to grow roots and vines all about the room It's not Winter yet Under this morning dew I envision it in my mind A crystal ball vision contorting into smoke I caught it in my breath Catatonically hanging A turtle with it's legs bending toward the sky Searching for my tribe and a pulse on this Earth in sentient souls

0

Aug 12, 2017

Aug 12, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC

Twizzlers

City lamps in clusters of concrete On 18th and Sherman street The cars pass by scanning me Each unsound engine roaring Darting pupils I feel it on my externals On my lips and phalanges Intruding glances cascading over my silhouette Deja-vu-like resemblances, strange Sunken cheeks look bizarre and blotchy as the socket drains something toxic to the veins that's permeated the future in an instant, like a comet, encandescent and shimmering like a scale, the awareness fades Like some dreary mirage I remember those little band aids Vintage carnival tickets discarded on the scratchy ground.. Blue-violet bruises The paradox of pleasure A vague creature in it's discomfort sitting in defiance and quivering my sentences It reminded me of those incandescent bugs that smush into Chryslers With a curled lip, bulging eyes and ******* up tongue... Antennaes intertwined like Twizzlers Making peace with all that's stung as the windshield wipers turn on Some black tar-smack-oil- ****** My generation consists of inheriting environmental destruction and mal-parenting Global warming. Animal extinction. Polluting the oceans. Deforestation. Biting shards off night-time to suffice for the daily pangs Shuffling the dregs of karma to grow roots and vines all about the room It's not Winter yet Under this morning dew I envision it in my mind A crystal ball vision contorting into smoke I caught it in my breath Catatonically hanging A turtle with it's legs bending toward the sky Searching for my tribe and a pulse on this Earth in sentient souls

57

A parade downstairs and you're not invited... The stain of all things cult status- Sitting alone, in the woods chain-smoking cigarettes Like the senseless aftermath of a battle ground... Up at 5 A.M- drinking by yourself when everyone else is passed out on couches... beds... floors... And the peach sunlight starts to pierce through the blinds.... Closing time- mopping up spilled beer and putting indigo earrings in the lost and found... The sleepy rolling credits of a film and exiting the pensive theatre... Hours of images fleeting in your peripherals... Standing in an empty Time Square devoid of car sirens and people... All those faces you've met or the places you've been- That abandoned bus stop at 5 A.M It's a diatribe between now and eternity

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May 14, 2017

May 14, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC

5 A.M

A parade downstairs and you're not invited... The stain of all things cult status- Sitting alone, in the woods chain-smoking cigarettes Like the senseless aftermath of a battle ground... Up at 5 A.M- drinking by yourself when everyone else is passed out on couches... beds... floors... And the peach sunlight starts to pierce through the blinds.... Closing time- mopping up spilled beer and putting indigo earrings in the lost and found... The sleepy rolling credits of a film and exiting the pensive theatre... Hours of images fleeting in your peripherals... Standing in an empty Time Square devoid of car sirens and people... All those faces you've met or the places you've been- That abandoned bus stop at 5 A.M It's a diatribe between now and eternity

31

Owl's eyes see with prophecy through the depths of the forest trees' limbs And those spirits... Witnessing the past, present and future.... These eyes understand either upside-down or backwards in visions of blue Like mirrors reflecting the sky, owls eyes perceive the stratosphere doorway in between light and shadow- Gifted as it is with a sprinkling of galaxies.... Owls eyes can see with magic- Their pupils are portals to Shangri-La and Tartarus where ghouls waver their direction endlessly in a lemniscate Even in the most moon-less night they conceive palpably those ghosts that weap as they wander.

0

Apr 2, 2017

Apr 2, 2017 at 6:11 PM UTC

Owl's Eyes

Owl's eyes see with prophecy through the depths of the forest trees' limbs And those spirits... Witnessing the past, present and future.... These eyes understand either upside-down or backwards in visions of blue Like mirrors reflecting the sky, owls eyes perceive the stratosphere doorway in between light and shadow- Gifted as it is with a sprinkling of galaxies.... Owls eyes can see with magic- Their pupils are portals to Shangri-La and Tartarus where ghouls waver their direction endlessly in a lemniscate Even in the most moon-less night they conceive palpably those ghosts that weap as they wander.

17

When I close my eyes I see things. I see flowers blossom in my heart-mind Fuchsias- Incandescent hues while walking passed street lamps Brilliant on my shoes Universes surround me in aquamarine-azules Doorways to other planets... hazy faces like photographs... When I close my eyes I see forrests and waterfalls in castles... I covet memories of battles in tarnished armor befriending dragons

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Feb 22, 2017

Feb 22, 2017 at 7:28 PM UTC

Home Again

When I close my eyes I see things. I see flowers blossom in my heart-mind Fuchsias- Incandescent hues while walking passed street lamps Brilliant on my shoes Universes surround me in aquamarine-azules Doorways to other planets... hazy faces like photographs... When I close my eyes I see forrests and waterfalls in castles... I covet memories of battles in tarnished armor befriending dragons

18

I can't help but notice how you're at the end of every sentence This soul-filled blissful presence stays in spite of doubt lingering.. Hope it remains through Winters passing.

0

Feb 22, 2017

Feb 22, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC

Mandrake

I can't help but notice how you're at the end of every sentence This soul-filled blissful presence stays in spite of doubt lingering.. Hope it remains through Winters passing.

7

In then out like a wave in the night it flickered by me in a droplet of light Somewhere in between a doorway to the mysteries Keeping time then disappearing Hushed silences like a quiver from the ground fore a stampede Shattering a violence that someone like I devoured in Dreams It was mesmerizing this quiet obscene sensation of falling Scratches on my knees Sleepless in the Winter dawn Sitting on the wooden floor In February

0

Feb 8, 2017

Feb 8, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC

Oranous

In then out like a wave in the night it flickered by me in a droplet of light Somewhere in between a doorway to the mysteries Keeping time then disappearing Hushed silences like a quiver from the ground fore a stampede Shattering a violence that someone like I devoured in Dreams It was mesmerizing this quiet obscene sensation of falling Scratches on my knees Sleepless in the Winter dawn Sitting on the wooden floor In February

20