wine about me god with dark hair below me moving
i feel incredulous when i look at myself with borrowed eyes
and the room smattering a night paint thorough
immutable triumph you undress like perfect coat
that palm of your mind shakes hands with mine
and obsfucates the sea, sea fog heaves its bright weight
bright alone like god piano the sun piano in church
galician heat and night erode my throat and what it has to
plea for watching the summer die and you begin your
return to israel
the boats are left where no boat belongs, already that sea-line
stone cools and hardens real magic into the apses
later let lay in ruby sheets for however long lacking your wet
dark way like a prayer but the mouth is sealed in a perfect
tomb
Mar 13, 2024
Mar 13, 2024 at 12:58 PM UTC
Eternity is closed !
- come back another day with
flower smears for eyes and sincere
passion on your
palms (weathered)
I need another Russian Doll -
Princess to frequent curtains
fashioned from fire & lead
equaling out to crimson folds
which mysteriously call to
the mystical hierarchies of
imagination
Silent requirements signal beneath the steps
which welcome
one (a stranger/
an Ibis-Beak cane & dark coat
stamped with August rain)
They arrive unexpectedly, as if to play the game
of cliches, they carry promises fashioned in foreign ports
tapping my knee
instead of my shoulder
having only known or recognized
entombment
(there is no hyperbole which lacks within
Nature's haunted heavens)
My strange visitor leaves / glass umbrella
in hand / to privacy / our brief interaction begins & ends with simple eager undertakings implemented
in the afterword
What is in another's contemplation of me?
whiling in manifest Theosophy -
- Thought form -
Primal child-rage / whisp of violet smoke &
inksplotches abolished, mutually panting.
Our decorated
four-legged hunter
has arisen and impatiently
craves for the Earth to partner at last with
the Sun
..The Sun a blazing dime
I can smell crispness
in the air
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 1:20 AM UTC
A witness to Epochs
sired in miniature
Arabias, listening to the drawn-out
gasp of God, our
sleepy master rising from their
daybreak chamber
Future fatherhood adorned/Sunkissed mirage of
Irises doubting, adrift &
hazel/Adulthood is an aching spectacle
between selves/pinewood casts salivating for
devotion
I willfully lend to the wild Palace of my mind,
affixing gargoyles
and Memento Mori,
dispose of playthings & grieving Tulpas
with great inclemency,
marking dates to see the gold spring from my
Hiraeth Valley
I dream of shadow music
and the Sea, Oyamel trees quiver
at an approach, here-
Another turning
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 2:36 AM UTC
-I-
Adoration-
Somnambulists cast
paradise magic, allowing a thimble to fall
upon the floor of our private heaven
(a perfect disquiet to our loving)
We daily reveal our reclusive
sensitivities, a flash (a lowered head, laughing distinctly)
Trailing close behind German poets/path of devotion, a second summit of their passionate influence, rippling generations ago now:
(vineyards caught by grasping suddenness/placating daytime/fig & flame/false tower of Babel, ornamental ruin/he feels owed the sensations of an active spirit, to repent the contrary forces within him/myself)
-II-
& upon my reflection in the Cabaret of Hell,
I see a gate perched at the base of my wondrous
Sehnsucht-apparition
BLUE MOON WALLFLOWER
(or perhaps the other way around?)
Overtaken by oscillating darkness/hall of mirrors (memories)
distorted flashbulb *** and anger
until the acts become indistinguishable from themselves/doubly
********** tigers brushstroked in animal blood... essence of devour/temper/
captivation, incredible lips, pulp teeth, pure excitement all disfigured
& joyous
-III-
My azzurine goddess, faced away in
shame, no wonder why!
(hair let down in a drowsy spill of
uncertain hours, wavering in a sullen high, thickly feeling,
the immensity/pleasure renounced for a cabbalist subliminity)
Mockery of the dead dead dog/blind in boyhood/while
curious ghosts skate across the ice-peripheral of our dreaming
I feel love, and horror/a frigid hand who's body I have dissolved-
-caressing my back tenderly
bordering terrific malevolence
...Later, in another try at my own eternal return, I find my comfort brother, accompanied by an overhead
divination lantern..
pounding! At the sun skull, for you (my cherished)
are of high order
I tempt soaking the cloth,
to steer the intention
..missing black mass, indulging instead
on feverish Damascus perfume
Splash ramp
down. Flesh, wailing
vampire/poet
hidden by darkly earth to inevitably
decay by their self-solitude
(descent writhes in the milk of heartache
and cusps the night firmly in his *****
withering palms)
I refuse this fate, and
in Western-fashion
fire down the city worshipper which was once
I, too (unmercifully so)
..burying his bones in the Scottish dirt
Terrarium hydrangeas, pale (yourIrises) lipstick daggers
slashing in the white sleeve-
red with epicurean
baptism
-IV-
Big bad wolf
banished to his hole,
I kiss the winter fruit clean from your mouth (succumbing to pinnacles of fire/your lost domain) ******* on pebbles, trying to crack through the surface
like a dragon's egg for pride
(big bad wolf is hungry)
We wear away the season, memorizing the newspapers
which are tossed carelessly to our door. Ah, the kitchen ballet dancers are finally tired..endowed to the triplicate beauty
that we individually define (takes a bit to get there)
You/I privileged to ********** Venice with our mutual
imagination, owing to Calvino
To crave eachother
as an Acrobat craves the
trapeze
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 5:11 AM UTC
A practice in diverting expectation,
the micrososm perseveres
over the macrocosm
(pale elevator magic)
Sand is not enough, nor the perennial heat, instead, I chase my green-eyed children,
escaping a slow but forceful
jewelled jaw, for birth
& secret kissing with the dawn
I act recklessly in
faith of foxgloves, harmonica valley
idlings/the sentence, in your own words/my sentence
The crescent court
decided I wait in Guangzhou for several hours, to compare my many lives with eachother, as I wonder what day it is, what my past-self is doing right now, if he's getting along fine, I'm a little sore
Druidic anthems/harbour &
hibiscus, fulfillment that feels strange to me, tea by my side, paying attention to "Idiot Wind" until it gets too dark to stay out
*Surreal in experience,
passing winter castles
& carnivals on stilts, foreign cemetaries,
temperamental waters, Afric breeze/
Art Deco saccharine
pink*
Now, to return
for an interval of Pacific Spring, an embrace of the howling shadow, banished by process
cultivating The Farther
(An ivory veil/withdrawn)
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 5:07 AM UTC
I
Possesion/extension
Nightly woman instinct,
lend your guiding scent
to fierce winds/
combining
into poison,
deliver down
my mercy to the great shining
(seduction poetics,
unrestrained and visible like a crown
of death hanging proud
by my bedside, eager
to martyr oneself for fertility)
Cosmogonic dawn/blinking fire-wheels,
shallow, holy waters
receding as silken tides, awoke from idleness
Discarded silver haloes, thrown into the hallowed dirt to drench in mortal youth
Monarch eyes/careful
heart, sealed/felt lucidly
worried/cavernous and hidden/wild kingdom dancer
A proclaimed Fool.
Imitator, mutilator
clay creator/for pathless ambition
I sink further in sand
which lacks definition, it is careless
like myself
(take a trip to Angel river, where one longs to be freed from skeleton grins
& pagan bathtubs, pollinating one
with wivesblood)
II
Out of the fog to a
marriagebed & lambs head
mounted, awkwardly
backdropped to an altar of Furze &
disorientation-theatres draped in Neon
& excess
(where even the walls are unaware of their own Earthly position)
If I am the stone,
you are the water, carving
me closer to your desired
shape
to become an Outer, a cloud-catcher, liplurker, destined to Saturn worship
III
My zeal is an impatient grave & you assume the feral mother
whose flashflood voice draws me to rest
..Yet, I am willing. Carry my body
to your domain, feast kindly, until
paradise is all that remains of us both
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 4:40 AM UTC
**I
February
Einbahnstraße in a
night of black arrowheads/jazz, obliteration perfume/
the twinkle of your
eyes which are engulfed
by youthful nymphs
Fur-lined sable coat
& I
in a jean jacket, hair styled back/
the perspiring windows of Paul Gustavus
open to reveal alizarin (death of day)
velvet curtains
(an appetite for moonlight &
mirrors) the reverberation
echochamber settles over us infused
with alcohol and tea leaves
Basement seclusion,
Deutsch in every direction
Woodstove heat/harsh truths exist in
a Blue Rose of cackling ash, left
disentangled ... duskdancer and copperhue-rooftop Saharas
billowing madly
conversation as a
room full of isolation, lip -
eye, breath -
hairline/drifting to attic enticement,
bedsheets ruffling like
a winged dove
(insertion/devotion)
I am a North American phantom speaking through written paragraphs
& on my second drink a voice
persuasively licks my thigh/come up from the uneven ground
*"feed the moon
relinquish fear
-blindness & burden, parish your
anticipation for fire"*
II
In my restlessness later on, I realize
all I can do is keep my head
high, mimic hope, mimic strength knowing we are
but one brief collision of beautiful
time purposed to split off again
towards a chaos larger than
ourselves.
Remembering The Woman in The Dunes..
"There was a drooling wolf...there was the sun. And, somewhere, he knew not where...there must also be a storm center and lines of discontinuity"
our own repitition of love & labor, warding off the deathhand which always comes back around
... How far do we have to go for lasting tenderness?
III
March
Australian sand/I erase my flesh
in Summer fruit/the air is thick,
I have stopped wearing leather
With iron humility
I task myself to
tillling a steeple into
a breaking cloudbeam
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 3:03 AM UTC
Easel pink brandish-
markings of bold
Panther shadow/transfigure
to Mariposa sweetly
Sunset sleeper, Mediterranean
heath, silver sailboat idol
chanting in wind/undulating mica-recast
(your teeth unravel
like hazardous
decorations as you approach
with sand in your pockets, shoes beaten together,
you shut the door behind you)
I've done with
stagnating, a freedom
figure replaces the routinely/becoming
(May)
a joyful repose,
now sojourned to
subtropics, a wanderer-
detaching himself from misconception
I am the Devourer of
my own time
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 9:44 AM UTC
Dampened Canary-
cloth hanging in the unforgiving
heat
A fateful transaction is upon the balancing wheel
of a godhead-wheelbarrow
(called forth from an unknown plain)
Here comes the chosen Sufferer,
who endures,
endures the cruel calming
of the desert
as if himself archetypal/
The Lonesome Cowboy
(Poésie)
Plotted on a humble Hillside,
where nobody has walked since
the first Red Riser fell honorably
(& honorably still)
The Martyr savors
the last of his strawberries before Tragedy (Muerte)
drinking water from a stranger's flask
removing pinpricks
individually, little droplets of
blood are sacrificed to quench
the
Arid Empress
*(Eruption/magnesium iris/Harper's Ferry 1805
perched toward the Consummation Twilight/Alexandria playfully
inspects his remains/judges past-lives/submitting to Lastly/DOWN/fertilizing the soil, creating,
smoking smiles/smoking kills/his skeleton braces for
savagery & foul gale)*
! Maroon-like
lamplight daybreak
(Leviathan)
Sacred-Serpent at their typewriter again, concluding/procuring
iron baskets-
-of bread and wine
to
celebrate the success in preserving
an irrevocable Cycle
...Another gentle youth invokes
the strange Temperament of Lilacs
& Chaotic Seraphim
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 3:06 AM UTC
I
Sun since discovered, released, now
eclipsed-
-spent shoes & leaves
vanished in
wind
II
It is without shame that I stand tempered
before the fervor
of the sea, sand
beneath my nails/throat heavy
with fog.
..Years become part of the water's process
(this process begins in the center of the Ocean, an unseen thrashing of instruments imitating war, screaming obscured by screaming, cut-
off by itself/bare
intersperse of salts, kelp, monsters without eyes
reside in blackness,
continuously repeating in solitude, where no human heart
can be placed without risk of dissent,
it too, becoming fury)
III
Feral baths
scrape their lyric
into the Dionysian Lid..
Dawns slight flaming fingers/Gökotta/
awake, my features appraise me/an interval now passed for gold
and heliotropes
The Body needs
The World
to hold you
Foreground trumpeting/Impatient Maker
of all which yearns
...now pleading
"Wake from
your underworld and witness
the collapsing of the
night!"
(((metamorphosis/strike)))
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 12:42 AM UTC