A swan swims through
the river of journey
A journey of teaching
For its cygnets
And their wings
Ripples giving the river some drop of depth

When painting one does not think
When writing one does not imagine
Of how imprisoned their souls can be
When we imagine of vast scapes
Of Seas
We realize there are only a few
Fish in the sea
Meant for us to catch
That's a catch to life
I'd love to say I have a catchphrase
For every time I stumble on my obstacles
Then I remember it was deja vu
That I came to find my mistakes
Like thousand splendid suns
Nurturing a million flowers
For the billion bees in synergy

The poems that are nonsense
Some work like limericks, and eddy
Like jokes on a drink of scotch, and a talk on Neal Cassady
The luncheon, and criminal affairs, the belted ladies with their cummerbunds and burgeoning wishes
The moist coffee, that touches you cupcake lips and kisses the dessert foam
The creme brulee, cider, and apples, you take bites and Bill Evans that plays the ebony and ivory
Stones that rock organs, keyboards, and rock changing streets
The streets that billow of cigarette meditation and ****** addiction spread like rated multiplexes meant for adults
Taxi cabs looking for some darkness in a handful of destiny

Foaming skies
With thunderstorm
Keeping the water in the warm
Like the tresses of tearing souls
Keel with my tightness of my
Home, I guess I'm crushed
Yeah, I have some money
But I'm broke
And the government
And wagers
wades through the sea
Where?
Throw your duties
And responsibilities
Like a key at the bottom of the sea
Senile decay keeps the trees from growing
Money
Pollution is  ashore
Explain my exploration
Money ,you, brought me
Here to wants
But you taught me to need
You bought the needy
with the paper currency
Of the rich economy
Seems like paper is poetry

Turns to the worst kind
In kindness
That's what he finds
Seems like empathy
Has a friend
In a lonely trend
Tried
But got caught up
The end

Hades, my favorite flower
That blooms in the dark garden
Like a bat out of hell with no wings
With a rebel yell and fire rings
Hard to think you reign in hell and are forever foreigner
Heck I'm the living dead
Hades has no reason to be faithful to prisoners
I can't fathom the living who love one
With too much at stake
Mad men have it easy
So do the ****** who quip with their lovers madly
I can't stand sight of prosaic peering fools
You may call them tools at the parties
Whoever knows poverty is a disease
Got too much money and power by talking about it
If he had none there would be no talk or strutting
Some people never go mad
I wonder kind of lives they must lead
Without good fortune
One cannot get a good wife
However some luck will get him a crook
The doors must be open for shamed men
Who stood by him in meditative nights
The hours go as the kites nibble on my prizes
Kibbutz workers have a feast yonder
Calling me sometimes
It's okay to eat fish and whatever flies
They have no feet or feelings
They swim out of anywhere
And fly out of hell
Becoming birds in the next life
The mad ones drown or get drunk
The dolphin rises as foolish waves approach
I fall out of love
And land in hell
Sinning each day to get over one mistake

The years we loved
The years had gone by
So I had discovered
The years were meant
For our love
For one another

The places I had seen
I thoughts keep
Stay with me
In my restless nights
With my leap from the edge
Of humanity

Drunk on romance
I blink and I blush
And every time I sip
I slip

Walking down this road
Take me to town quickly
Ask me your favorite streets, and Czech colors
Take me where your rebellion breaths and your stability lies
Here in my life, is my road and the street of rudimentary life
From which we made more, out of love we proceed with deep strides
Asking for the common touch of Czech colors

The October leaves drizzled from the tops of branches
How they shine in the sun's rays, autumn gold and hectic red
A cold dark side like a deep trench in those arches
The willow and fir widen their arms for us
I'll remember this day forever

Ravens whetted by the rain's speared sun ray
The trees make their home for the peregrine
As Cupid harken, relinquishing his sheaf
Indeed, it is the arrows that scintillate under a violet tree
I'll memorize every bit of this elation and release

Every autumn when I look at trembling fickle blades
My mind finds its rest place as it looks for mystery
But, the world spins on its axis, neither ascent nor descent
A book's essence is dug up from it's spine, turned into dissent
Knowing I cannot live forever, I will remember this day

We could sculpt our minds
We could cut our helms with glasses
Like water that takes form in gardens of unseen beauty
Which keep them alive underground
However, we are cut from the same knife
We are cut into malleable toil
Shaped from dusk till dawn
Heard from dull lilacs in the soil
I am a flower
I am a flower
I am a flower...

Purpleheart every day, imbibe your indecisiveness
Give blues to life, to inscribe your insidious intent
'Cause I love your reds and hues, and the stairs that lead away
You what and why I can read you whence you stay
Because roses, violets and you lose your mellifluous and oleaginous face
Flowers are right, 'cause you love you right with the heralded dews of hummingbirds
'Cause is right, cause I love you, like the sun's right on the windmill for the sawdust
Bring back life, in an endless river of life, purpleheart make me one again with this creasing present premonition
That I throw away, too many folds of the meritorious grand design that creates the cosmic flow
Accretion disseminating the delirious artist within, out with the words and in with your pleasantries and parsimonious precedents
Light and dark, drive out the interfaces of all might
Without you I might, I leave you dry and quiet
Quite right, if you end the world on the right note
Cause, I need your love and you, going five
Childhood and innocence are you fine 'cause I love youth
My name's mine, see ya on the other side
Coquettish and coco loco, brogues and oxfords look like you moon swiftly survive
Cry your heart out and purple haze, endless by the digits in the reasonable the logic of the fire
Temerity and the derision of the ****** burning read these lines and some of the understanding why you have no home
You're a fool for your right and a lyrical goddess, talk of the heart
Like a goddess, you leave me with thoughts in mind for the maker
After, I've read and had you, with me in my cries
'Cause I've dove for you, in this blazing rain in the heart of the sun
Blasting thunder and water across the fading streets for the sun that waking clouds that walk among night stars

Toasted nuts, marshmallows roasted and half-eaten
Half-smoked cigarettes, edges of burnt letters
All notions romantic are consumed by fire
The embers of a fireplace have enveloped it

Yet, the sweetness of your lips
Alerts my innermost desires
Every time- like sunsets in a solitary sky
Your light luminesces the cold caves of time

Let's disappear
Your words were so clear
Let the echoes
Travel through the night

When you meet me with another
I cannot resist a look
These are echoes
Traveling through the night

Your thoughts were her
Once familiar, now strange
Let's make our escape
With the echoes of the night

Your face with criss cross lines
The hands that held me by strings
Now see what the echo brings
Through the night

The passions and pursuits all bunched in one
Makes one happy
And fun

Lay in the shade
A day out, new moon hiding
Tomb turns around on breaking dawn
The dead man turns around in his grave
When the flowers stop coming
When the graves stop burning
The truth dawn on me, and shined on me

Germinating by the dull roots, April is the cruelest month
Truth tells that our soul can fight this cruel cycle
When the planets align, we look up instead of our red earth
It's an eclipse, right?

You have the sun in your
Eyes and when the moon
Covers them, they become beautiful
Like an eclipse turning bystanders blind

Shopping for clothes
Stepping out of the house
Mopping floors
Well, Red Sox never win
These are a few things we do

Mapping out the future of cars
Lagging in studies
Licking our paper dry lips
Well, she never noticed me at lunch
These are a few things we do

Churning butter for families
Making homes for refugees
Creating ideas for Gods and Goddesses
Well, anything for brides looking for something else
These are a few things we do

When I see long poems
I wish I could have the baby poem, that could be called
The baby elephant, of the free rhyme of trunks and truncheon things
Trenchant, but, unable to define the bacterium, unable to hold a trumpet to the music
We couldn't hold a candle to the wind, breaking the olive with ripe skins
The single utmost feeling that stays, are the vibrations of passed and silken-sheets, under which I read Candide
Books are a person's best friend because they can have offspring
And they can marry concepts, with their little concepts, and big dreams
I love living in books, maybe, I might never get out
A shirt to clothe my torso, and pants I forget in the morning
That's how I feel when I leave my favorite book at home
When coming back to school, to cool for school and prudent for impish fickle desires
Let's light the lamp, and touch the fire, instead of running out of wishes
Bring the inner child, and pass him a futon, pin the cushion and sternly commandeer the entertainment of subjects
Overtures of garrulous, and soundless promises, softer than the wind
Let's kiss the wind, I beg you, but, you can't hear me
Let's hope you feel me, in stygian love and permanent darkness

I over 10 feet of the ground
With my pride in my pocket
And my cap snapped back

The purse and lipstick
Keeps the secrets on lips
They talk of your beauty

Like a ******
Of culture
The worst dancer on the dance floor
You make me shy
I want you anyway
Getting drunk on gin
Shining on the road sign
There's a hotel with your name

I guess I'm still looking for you
Keep looking for the truth
About the skies
That bathe in the sun
Like a hot bath
In April

Day and night
I'm struggling with my time
The struggle is real

Sometimes you
Make me so happy
That my crying soul leaves
Its body in elation
Not like an angel burning his joy for the heavenly death

The mussels clap to the sunrise
Much like a **** that singeth a boisterous hymn to the arriving new light
I live for the howling fires of sun sets
When the bottle opened, I remembered the buzz
The night I loved you to explore a bottled emotion
To become a thrilled sailor on the electric fuzz

Chances are you forgot you have an ace
In your pocket, questionable thespians are weary, winsome women
In a poet's life, bringing him to temptation and avoiding coyness
Coarse behavior can be a form of attention and aptitude
But the coquettish reminded me of the inhibitions as an observer
An accosted girl left in a town also was a part of this terse reason
Edicts could have been written on her spontaneous knowledge
Buttressing this poor logic was her reasonable interest in my expression
Art, was a class apart when we sat together creating a dense-structured essay
Yearning for better proliferation in opulent desires, ideas were purloined
Carpe Diem became Carper Nocte
And the Illuminati Du Ponts were a sourced for respite
As her religion didn't interest me
Her faith in God brought me tears
I folded her legs and broke her spirit
Took her to a place where religion made me happy
The release was being with a long-lasting ******
The happiness was in the blood
Blackness hovered her face as she was gonna get it
The pressing of the abdomen didn't bring adolescence anymore
God what is time to those religious, but, reckless
In the everlasting love for enervated breath and emotion
Relentless, there were frescoes of superior litany veritably written

Alight with the void
Flighting in fautal corners
Observing her expanse and countenance, still sparsing
I pray you to be silent about all Gods, I don't want a book that silences me
However, music is respected by nihilists too, and the blackness shadows over me like your cosmetic

The uninhibited circumstance
That quiets down your doubts
Can help you change your mind which is in an exhibit
Are you just dreaming for a future
Or a better future for yourself
Either, the individual's conscious decisions are
Reciprocated by that individual's desires
It's just some sunflower swagger
What the hell is sutra, if you can't position yourself in front of the Sun?
Existence unencumbered
Predilection is a precursor for a steadfast stride
The yellow windowpane of that house
Is just a crud-crusted window that blocks the rearview
Well, I realized what is sutra, and the trust you have in your mellifluousness
Life isn't all musical, but, there is some music to those seeking hope
In fact, they kind of hear voices
Which are kind of blue?
I wonder if the melancholy jazz is enough to soothe your supplementary soul, the acerbic and subversive

If I died in the fiery explosion
Of some friend and the fire never burned
out
I would lit in his shadow
Engulfed by the encumbered thoughts
The preference for silence comes from this implosion

All your tears are fresh in the morning
Yet, I wait for every clear evening to cope
Wrestling the desolate storm without hope
Hearing closely for sight of some longing

You remember when we watched the rain
A rogue wind hit us and we weren't the same
With every push and shove drew us further apart
We tried to justify the walls because help never came

Did we have some change of heart?
The sun and Earth aren't quite estranged
We were birds of the sky that lost trust in flight
As we endure every month in silence and slight

It's October, I listen to the slow burning of your arms
We have seen worse times in the past and waited hours
Moving ahead from our last, first to last, for the stars
To start a fire, you have to trust the dark

As friendly you are
You are always a mystery
Etched into art
Painted onto a colorful canvas

Colorful canvas
I love the colors you bring me
In the darkest night
On colorless cloudy days
Which are characterized by greys

Greys are the eyes
That look right through my soul
Appreciating my existence
An old soul
In her windows to the soul
Greyer than her elastic heart
I've fallen for her
Till her hair turns grey
And we turn seventy

Are we educated
To be better men
Or become terrifying educationalists?

When the bottle
Opens
I write my emptiest emotions

I hate the situation
I hate spoken verse
And the unspoken words
Between us fools
Looking through hearts
The moon stands perfect
On this pale ice
Strumming a guitar
Produces a line of lurid
Effeminate rhyme
Just to pass the time
To go where I want to die
Just to feel alive in
Your arms where filled posh sofas carry
The cushion and comfort
The texture of a million rainy clouds
I can cry if I wish
For an evening in your apartment
Enough for rain
It will come again
I can cry if breath soon
Underwater among the promises loses meaning
Of being released for never have commited no crime
Having my life taken to freezing Siberia
Forever is a long time
For a prisoner of love
For a prisoner of war
Where everything is fairer
Than my mistress's judgement
Who lets me in to play a valiant song
As I stride through the city streets
I rise on the arches of Paris
Dreary Seine says goodbye once love lost
It was better to have loved than lost
This is the way it ought to stay
Instead of my head turned in like a signpost
Where they hang the scars of the past
Bodies, bodies, bodies
Do you know what is nothing
Have you known love
Beyond the loss of life
Pray that you lose everything
Before God showers you with everything
Leaving only, but, emptiness in life

You aren’t with me
This harbour is lost
The stale air that I breathe
It is simply washed by the sea

The sweet air
The silence
The agony and despair
Is all left of this place

Nature says
What the heart knows
This empty bay
Filled with promises of yesterday

You aren’t with me
This harbour is lost
The stale air that I breathe
It is simply washed by the sea

The sweet air
The silence
The agony and despair
Is all left of this place

Nature says
What the heart knows
This empty bay
Filled with promises of yesterday

The redness of the sky
Is like the child in you
That's where I am
I hope you come searching
When I feed off your moonlight
I am the stars twinkling in this foreign land
To be seen by the naked eye
Used to the eternal breeze of vacuum
I live in your shadow and I've embraced it
By learning to light the candle without any oxygen
Like a candle in space that cannot feel the wind
I learn to course this vast river of inherent darkness without color
With my head in the empty sky, untouched by penultimate space

Life is an empty dream
Libraries are in an empty slumber
The plumber doesn't hear
The sky falls and rain pours
I know I sleep best with you

The fire burns
Inside me
Asking for water
Seems like a crime
When the only light
You see is a candle
TO help you with your studies

Sitting under a street lamp
Sketching the street lights

I saw dreams
That treaded paths
I travelled had trapped volcanic steam
Boiling over an island are earthen pots
That hold water upside down in their ******

Build the stars
The stars seem to fall
From the mirth of the
On The end of the horizon
That kept my tendons
On the upkeep
With my musculature
Of my back
The years on end

Apparitions are like beautiful flowers
That wilt in the
Presence of others
They wane when they see negativity
Blossoming daringly
And ephemeral and transient, eventually

Arguments leave only heavy hearts
As the heavy clouds create the most beautiful storms
The flower of youth is the most beautiful
Because it blooms and takes away your innocence

I'm going off
I'm going out of the
Simple leisures, very complicated

Friendship is a single soul
Dwelling in two bodies

Competition is two bodies
Dwelling in one hobby

We could stretch
Our time, look at our legs
Tilt to the bellied fluttering of our hamstrings and heartstrings
Stirring our soul, and pushing out the sighs and pulling in the ties
We just made love

Wanted to start with an honest take
On T.S. Eliot's fulmination towards criticisms
Regarding the debater, Mr. Grierson's
Point of view on metaphysical writings
In purview of genuine poetic dissertation and discussion
Presentation of the nuances of poems are intriguing
Wherewithal that there is a diligent approach taken
To study John Donne and Cowley
Marvell, one  of the social upheavilists
Of this time t'was real t'was true to naturalism
However, Goethe points out " in their unnaturalism they poised on naturalism"
There is a lot to say for Mr. Eliot's debate
Not too much for Mr. Grierson's review of some good old fashioned
Amorous verse, inasmuch it bewitches the languid sensuality

Often the purer and fairer opposite ***
Through genuine use of wit and impressive stoicism
A thoroughly metaphorical use of the term "stoic"
Can be attributed to the use of complex imagery
It would be interesting if one drew parallels
On the concepts of love and spirituality
It is expressed in reading that deals with rapid association of thought
English language canon and poetic implication are there, of course
Basically, what the poet is trying to say and the implicit understanding
Between a lover and a mistress
One could say it is a conversation or a nuanced conversation
Between the reader and poet
Such is the metaphysics of women and their love for genuine metaphor
It is often the velleity of the poet to write in such esoteric language
Therefore, one could understand the heterogeneous ideas potrayed
In each poetic verse of Donne's repertoire cannot be
Misconstrued as unnecessarily analytic
Almost like the dissection of a patient in surgery
The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts

Did you know?
You could slowly
Eat an apple
With its pips
Plump red acidic taste
And system
In haste

Is it strange
To want to forget you
And write about you just the same

There's no life in her eyes
There's no warmth in her heart
I'd said to myself that she was kind
When the veil fell I saw Death waiting
No love, only secrets to immortality

While shackled forever
In a circle of fire- without sight
What did strike me as beautiful was
The time I spent dying in her arms
No love, no more secrets this time

...The universe breathes in the dark

On the shore of short towers
Shopping for food
Slaving it out in the rain
The education of many years and marathon days
We ran instant energy and insatiable highs

I hope we are sensitive to joy