Though ebony waves might roar from the deep
And racing winds howl athwart a darkened sky,
Though gloomy clouds might scud and weep,
My lurve for thee, precious mom; shalt never die.

Though thunder might crash with bitterest ire
And doth blot the entire stupendous yonder sky
With strangest ire, more fierce than Hell’s fire,
My lurve for thee, precious mom; shalt never die.

For though I know the ocean is deep and wide
And infinite seemeth a sinking sky without a bend,
Hark thee, effulgent star! Enslaved in the universe
Are all the above, but my lurve for thee hath no end.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Tacoma, Washington 03/14/20.

Eons ago, in the far countryside,
Twixt a sequestered strange bush
Where early boughs grow wide
And rank, there dwelt a Thrush.

Not far off on yonder dwelt a dove
Whose feathers were as white as snow,
With eyes chatoyant than stars above,
And her nest of feathers of fairest glow.

One colorful morning, in a soft hum the dove
Cooed, “Dear Thrush, how sweet thy voice,
Nighly akin unto those of seraphim above,
Charming than of mermaids of a fairy sea!”

“Dear dove, how fair the hue of thy wings,”
Softly replied the Thrush. “Thrice more fair
Than multicolored maidens of golden rings
That fairly beam through the midnight air!”

And, on yon day in yon sequestered kingdom,
They made nuptial vows to walk down the aisle.
A new nest of thatches of gold was their home,
And there dost dwell evermore with a radiant smile.

© Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California. 02/20/2020.

If the thrill of the hunt sets you a'flame
I long to be the man to play your game
But I'm not a beast to be satisfied with a bone
No "here's a scrap" now go on alone

For me, it's your divine feminine I pursue
The gods felt like showing off when they crafted you
Your sense, so dark, so deep, is what I'll follow
Don't short-shrift my time and make my efforts hollow

I'm in need of a feast - your body, your mind
My cravings won't end with wrinkled sheets and a bottle of wine.
Your flesh on my tongue is what I will savor
I'll eat you alive, if you'll return the favor.

I want to devour you whole
Your spirit, your soul
And once I've stripped you down to your core,
Only then, my dear, will we start the chase once more.

Upon dissipated streams of time,
In middle earth, in a fairy clime,
There once dwelt an aged man
Who’s tales were impeccably fun
Unto folks who lent him their ear
Whilst they sat entranced to hear
Him reeling off novelty folklore
Of goblins and dwarves of yore.
Of him legends go on and say
His tales glittered like a sun’s ray
Or silvery drops of dawn dew
Upon meadows of an emerald hue
Or the luster of the most effulgent star
That evermore beams forth from afar
Upon heaven’s timelessly stonking bay
In the most splendidly ineffable way.
Hearken ye ladies and gentlemen,
This’s no other than, J.R.R Tolkien.


© Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California. 12/09/19.

Effulgence of the brightest star
That evermore beams from afar.

Resplendency of the dawn dew
Beaming forth with a silvery hue.

Opalescence of a neon rainbow,
Or the luster of winter snow.

Glitter of a moon-kissed sea
Murmuring with sheer glee.

Hues of a polychromatic sunset
Upon heaven's stonking gate.

Glow of buds of a rose-gold sheen,
Or snowy lilies by meadows green.

The sparkle of a sun-kissed stream
Whispering along like a sweet dream.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California. 11/05/19.

Thou, thou violent fires,
Though thou might rage
With all Hellish desires,
No more in a peculiar cage

Of fear, thou shalt shroud us.
At length, thou shalt calm,
And like as the tides of the sea,
Return whence thou dost come.

Thou, thou violent fire,
Though more fierce thy anger
Than the Dragon's ire,
Thou shalt lose thy power

But hark! Into the balmy air,
Rage nevermore to drag men
Into shadowy vales of despair
Like as the hungriest lion in a den.

For though thou might rage
With all Hellish eternal hate,
Nevermore to shroud us in a cage
Of fear, for death too is thy fate.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California. 10/28/19.

Someone tell me the colours of love,
For I no longer got the slightest clue,
Is it white as the very whitest dove?
Is it blue as skies dressed in blue?

Someone tell me the colours of love,
For I no longer know how it looks like,
Is it colorless as the rain from above?
Or like the glitter of a moon-kissed lake?

Someone tell me the taste of love,
Is it sweet as the taste of ancient mead?
Is it like nectar dreamt of Elysium above?
Does it intoxicate as Jamaican ****?

Someone tell me the fragrance of love,
Is it like the perfume of the wildest rose?
Is it like a blooming lavender in a grove?
Or is it like jasmines in a sweet repose?

   Someone tell me ere as quick as a hind,
   I dost wander with a wandering wind.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California. 10/27/2019.