Fear is the silent Stalker
Hunting you within your mind

The taste of Cloves on
Cloven hoofed delicacies
Entice the Palette's elan
Often served with Yams
First smoked then slow roasted
At Holidays its often Toasted
And it makes one heck of
An Omlette with Cheese
Its certain to please

~~
Then, if ever, is the red color grows fade
The petals of red roses drop
If the birds don't sing any songs
And even a butterfly doesn't
Play on a purple flower

If the mistake happens in the rain
You 'll not cry
You can't be afraid of thunder
They will cleanse you

And when I am gone
Forgive me, but the melody in the air
You will come, playing in the garden,
Dance with the lost grasshoppers

Any yellow day when red flamboyant will be bloomed
Will have to take off your colorful sunglasses
At the very noon will be floated on the Cuckoo's love song
Again and Again it will prove your arrival,

O' Spring

You'll be the very white sky after rain
Will bloom red hibiscus
On that gilded day  
Red flamboyant 'll be loved with yellow flamboyant

Patched up with melody and words
Will be made new Songs,
New Poetry,
With the yellow flowers tune

Then again,
You 'll not  sing a song of despair,
Not even a song of hiatus,
Will sing the Songs of Joy,
Stir in the way of dreams,
Mating

Back to again and again
I 'll come back to you
Both 'll make a love  
For the creation of a new life
~~

_

Upon this elevated perch I sit
Jagged rock and nature’s bleed
Looking out beyond my sight
Knees and hands of weathered seed

Straddling an outward view
Clinging tight to breathless cries
Clouds now form of smoky fill
Cracks evolve of southern skies

Down below the valley sleeps
Curtains closed and bolted doors
Green between the acreage spills
Crumbs are swept from hollow floors

When an anguished howl is heard
Bounding far and chilling wide
Makes me stand, unsure of foot
Destinations run and hide

Dark precedes a warning moon
When two eyes of crimson glare
Break the glass in shards of fear
As my aching eyes do stare

Razor quick and fired flames
Out of breath my thoughts to run
Lightening strikes at where I cringe
Burning skin of tortured sun

Death does come, but eyes still see
Weary as of this forlorn
Tattered dreams long past their prime
When deep beyond a reason born

Still I sit on broken stone
High above the slumbered lanes
So frightened of horizon’s fall
And the light delivered pains

Now many nights and many days
Have crawled amidst my destiny
For when embarks a moon so full
This anguished howl now heard is me

I sit wrapped in mist...
as the Fog Bank rolls in
on the shores of my mind

I find through an ocean
fed upon by the River Styx
lost in my own Complexity

Thoughts like confetti
float through the air
as if to Puzzle me to Dare

To arrange the Puzzle Pieces
of my life, while constantly bogged
in the mists of my own Mind

Sequential thoughts drifting
in the mists of time and place
as I continue to search for my face

Lost in the pile of puzzle pieces
a jumble in the duration of the
persistance of my procreation


All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack

The Wrath of craven Masses Arise
All hunting for the Sacrifice
What thought or Image Should be cast
Like Books Upon the fires of the Iconoclast
As poet arise blazing Edgar Allen Poe in Eyes
Just as a raven crosses a Grave...
Searching for within whats saved
To savor the flavor of putrid Flesh
The Poet is obsessed for words to caress
Arousing his compulsive Chicaneries
And bearing a touch of Poe's Insanity


All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack