Semi-literate Poet

Semi-literate Poet Aug 2018

Que ya no aguanto el deseo.

Semi-literate Poet Aug 2018

"Pendleton, Lighting Bolt board shorts, Hawaiian Print Vans and a handle-bar moustache". Wow....and listening to the Dead South. "Get a load of gramps!" shouts some 20 something punk as the tanned "mom didn't dress me" hipster orders an Arrogant ******* Ale.
"I'll still kick your *** ya ****** snotty *** kid" he mutters.

Semi-literate Poet Aug 2018

Daggers

My words cut deep

They make you bleed
....they make you weep
Keep you up at night....
No rest no sleep

I fence with syllables
Simili's my sword
Languages' my Lance
Metaphor my mace

I bludgeon with truth
I'll never lie to your face.

Semi-literate Poet Aug 2018

Omniscience

Sometimes is a curse

Semi-literate Poet Aug 2018

Juete

Cuando el culo quiere juete, él mismo lo solicita

Semi-literate Poet Aug 2018

What a mangled web

I'm caught in a
web of deception
two spider's playing out
a poetically failed romance
on these pages.....
..my conception.

Imagined personas
tres plus noms des plume
glitter and sparkle
as I watch these two dance.

Pay attention
all Roman Generals,
all you down
and out uptowners,
don't let that house
fall straight into the ashes; unwanted metastatic carcinogenic glances

It's your right to
up and move on
but I get it the siren
sings a sweet song.
Her golden surprise
your mesmerizing eyes
and both of you thinking
I planned this whole guise.

I'm just an observer
on the moon looking down laughing at how
my Word makes you both stumble,big footed clowns....
Young star crossed lovers
playing hide and seek
like the shadows in
my empty park.

But as I love
leaving clues
yours are easily
deciphered.

Some may say I'm God
others Luis Cypher.

My eye sees all as my hipocracy and blasphemy knows no bounds

Semi-literate Poet Aug 2018

The Tide

Ebb & flow, high and low
Tug and tug the moon above
Reaching for its own reflection
Narcissistic incantation
in my sky of love

Depths unfathomable of darkened light, the salt emaciates me when she is bright with crown hung low.

Pools of poems shimmer as she retreats, allowing me to ****** words, caress them before I nudge them from their nest, my chest and release the Word back to the sky.

Waves that slap, wake me from a slumber. My turn to be the eyes and ears as the moon my love retreats petrifying souls to guard her celestial number.