rf-jordan - Hello Poetry

when for what have you stare in to eyes that are what for when ewe took my hand along yore swollen perambulations into nights devoid of air ewe have never swallowed a trace of light that ewe cannot reflect upon as dust entombed in heavens disassembled from unleavened brethren there was always a core to yore whimsical strut as if an avenue could hold yore internals eternal those mettling metals we unleash upon with our ****** toes galavanting pearls asunder thunder’s weeping reigns of unsubstantiated all never there was a timid breath ewe did not urn as if spells of broken gesticulations could volley a scant clue of what it was to become nothing that type that trite time follows as we sear magic into our concrete organs as if all concrete weren’t asphalt awaiting coal i succumbed upon your neck and caught sinewy glimpses of your entanglements as if driven into shock ewe never stopped smiling and in me ewe never will

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Apr 15, 2016

Apr 15, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC

awaiting coal

when for what have you stare in to eyes that are what for when ewe took my hand along yore swollen perambulations into nights devoid of air ewe have never swallowed a trace of light that ewe cannot reflect upon as dust entombed in heavens disassembled from unleavened brethren there was always a core to yore whimsical strut as if an avenue could hold yore internals eternal those mettling metals we unleash upon with our ****** toes galavanting pearls asunder thunder’s weeping reigns of unsubstantiated all never there was a timid breath ewe did not urn as if spells of broken gesticulations could volley a scant clue of what it was to become nothing that type that trite time follows as we sear magic into our concrete organs as if all concrete weren’t asphalt awaiting coal i succumbed upon your neck and caught sinewy glimpses of your entanglements as if driven into shock ewe never stopped smiling and in me ewe never will

37

calling IV calling all truck drivers calling all car dealers all scuba divers all potato peelers all mothers all sons all brothers calling all who’ve won all losers, users, and just all perusers of rusty lust calling all criminals all those who’ve tussled and cussed calling all mechanics and all whom, in them, trust calling all politicians for i must beg of ye to see this infinity in we calling all ministers of high finance all fragile tendencies toward your dance with your blossoming children and their salty breezes their blown into kerchiefs and their seizing sneezes seeing you as you carry them toward our unifying dust i hold no ill will toward that soil you till i’ve passed around your notes, your bonds, and your bills i’d thought i’d be one of you ‘til i met a few untils love your children, and love yourself, for they shall carry your ashes into a box upon a shelf that dust behind all wealth calling all foxes, dogs, cats, chickens, and beetles all sages, rosemary, spikes, and needles all wages, incendiaries, wallops, and weebles all pages, all poets all police, all panthers all those battling fires without and within all those atop towers all whom are twins calling all wheels upon all surfaces all of those mired in a sense of worthlessness calling all kings calling all nations calling all jordan’s, americas, and native stations we’re writing too much blood into not enough ground we’ve survived our flood and are forever bound calling brother abel and brother cain father abraham and mother pain you’ve traumatized me from all this blood you’ve lain i see peace in all your eyes blown to pieces in terrorizing replies calling all consumers, producers, unionizers, and managers corporations, and not for profit planners all doctors, nurses, clients, and programmers advertisers, marketers, bloggers, and spammers all engineers of damns, bridges, and destructions those who fell they’re ****** due to their suctions i’ve sensed a fragile beauty in your moistened orbs you all carry i beg of you all to come from love lay down your swords i beg you not tarry come women laying into asphalt come scientists predicting san andreas’ fault come widows, charlatans, and poets of trite all ye poets weeping into ye hands all ye poets of darkness and light perfect light and darkness are myths upon this earth just as perfect black and white are myths spun from history’s dearth

0

Apr 12, 2016

Apr 12, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC

calling IV

calling IV calling all truck drivers calling all car dealers all scuba divers all potato peelers all mothers all sons all brothers calling all who’ve won all losers, users, and just all perusers of rusty lust calling all criminals all those who’ve tussled and cussed calling all mechanics and all whom, in them, trust calling all politicians for i must beg of ye to see this infinity in we calling all ministers of high finance all fragile tendencies toward your dance with your blossoming children and their salty breezes their blown into kerchiefs and their seizing sneezes seeing you as you carry them toward our unifying dust i hold no ill will toward that soil you till i’ve passed around your notes, your bonds, and your bills i’d thought i’d be one of you ‘til i met a few untils love your children, and love yourself, for they shall carry your ashes into a box upon a shelf that dust behind all wealth calling all foxes, dogs, cats, chickens, and beetles all sages, rosemary, spikes, and needles all wages, incendiaries, wallops, and weebles all pages, all poets all police, all panthers all those battling fires without and within all those atop towers all whom are twins calling all wheels upon all surfaces all of those mired in a sense of worthlessness calling all kings calling all nations calling all jordan’s, americas, and native stations we’re writing too much blood into not enough ground we’ve survived our flood and are forever bound calling brother abel and brother cain father abraham and mother pain you’ve traumatized me from all this blood you’ve lain i see peace in all your eyes blown to pieces in terrorizing replies calling all consumers, producers, unionizers, and managers corporations, and not for profit planners all doctors, nurses, clients, and programmers advertisers, marketers, bloggers, and spammers all engineers of damns, bridges, and destructions those who fell they’re ****** due to their suctions i’ve sensed a fragile beauty in your moistened orbs you all carry i beg of you all to come from love lay down your swords i beg you not tarry come women laying into asphalt come scientists predicting san andreas’ fault come widows, charlatans, and poets of trite all ye poets weeping into ye hands all ye poets of darkness and light perfect light and darkness are myths upon this earth just as perfect black and white are myths spun from history’s dearth

79

when i cordoned you off with Gorilla Tape and lilac vine once i was done attaching encrypted files of pearls upon that sultry salt of your inner-thighs once i’d borrowed bonds off my favorite banker’s portfolio so i could waste myself in their earned interest ratios of blood bourne by centuries of hapless gathering oppression so i could use them in mosaics of swollen sand that i could lay like sea-glass shards under your ebbing feet as useless parchments i swallowed you in all your swollen spasms of fragile oblivion until that bottom of this tongue lept amidst surfacing juices obliterating and obligating all that ever decayed amidst obelisks your whispers (hatched from your breathy endorphins) shook me into mine own desperate shudders astride our gathering humidity and i gathered in your needle-nosed plier eyes -rust encrusted grey incisors- wrought from melted andirons mixed with slug trodden soils of hinterlands i was never to penetrate as if i ever slammed you with yore spinning flails into night’s emerging chasm of charcoal sprinkled with inner-orange peels and their attempts toward all that is illuminating, wistful, brief, and precious— i am your son, i am birthed from your sal i vations. i am twisting, still, amidst these rudiments of brine...

0

Apr 7, 2016

Apr 7, 2016 at 2:20 AM UTC

Gorilla

when i cordoned you off with Gorilla Tape and lilac vine once i was done attaching encrypted files of pearls upon that sultry salt of your inner-thighs once i’d borrowed bonds off my favorite banker’s portfolio so i could waste myself in their earned interest ratios of blood bourne by centuries of hapless gathering oppression so i could use them in mosaics of swollen sand that i could lay like sea-glass shards under your ebbing feet as useless parchments i swallowed you in all your swollen spasms of fragile oblivion until that bottom of this tongue lept amidst surfacing juices obliterating and obligating all that ever decayed amidst obelisks your whispers (hatched from your breathy endorphins) shook me into mine own desperate shudders astride our gathering humidity and i gathered in your needle-nosed plier eyes -rust encrusted grey incisors- wrought from melted andirons mixed with slug trodden soils of hinterlands i was never to penetrate as if i ever slammed you with yore spinning flails into night’s emerging chasm of charcoal sprinkled with inner-orange peels and their attempts toward all that is illuminating, wistful, brief, and precious— i am your son, i am birthed from your sal i vations. i am twisting, still, amidst these rudiments of brine...

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