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There are
a billion stars
behind
my
eyes

I weep them
one

by

one

*
.
10W
Soul Survivor

They are actually tears of joy.
Not relevant to present
Circumstances
Must be God!
Tell yourself to breathe
as the stratosphere is falling,
imagining verses tumbling
midst downpours' dissension,
sans sentimentality's
         loquacious language,
and the land is left barren
    as verbosity disintegrates
and emotions wholly perish
    'neath fickle cloudbursts
               of poetry's extinction
Hungered for a taste
  of your elixir's essence,
drunken inhalations
   of your poetry
a splendiferous whirl
 of time & space 'tween
darkly scented moons
    and sun's adoration,
blithe starry nights
amidst meditative new
dawn's effervesce,
 spirited of the heart,
gleaned in the soul,
yearnings of another
  chapter's paradise
universal experiences
etched of hourglass sand,
 written upon endlessly
    chimerical verses
wildflower gardens drenched
    of dandelion's plum wine
swooning under a
hypnotic scripted spell,
intoxicating power
of unchained symphonies
dancing amongst skies'
released euphoria
 resonating in a song's
   reprised melodies,
breathlessness of delirium's
  celestial pauses
  in vaporous breezes'
  unfurling undulation,
captivated by rhythmic
  destiny reverberating in
     *****' pleasurable calling
  quenched of sacred
     offering's quell
transcending earthly
   persuasions' rhyme,
let me lick the nectar from
   your  poesy's  insatiable  lips,
sweet mercy's healing
   captured in rapturous
   surrender's reawakening ~

Je veux que vous tous,

tu me manques*



Ce que vous manquez de moi?
Je te veux - I want you
tu me manques - I miss you
 Jul 2015 an uncommon aura
moss
She was in love
With old books.
She was in love with
The way they smelled
As she flipped the pages
And felt the air hit her face.
She was in love with
The rough texture
Of the paper worn over time.
She was in love with
The yellowed tint of the pages
And the crumple of water spots.
She was in love with
The broken and tattered
Binding that crinkled
When you touched it.
But most of all,
She was in love with
The stories that not only
The words written in them held
But the stories behind each
Coffee stain and torn corner.
The idea that this book
Had connected with
So many other people
Enchanted her,
And she wondered if
Maybe she wasn't as
Strange and odd
As people told her.
And she thought that just
Maybe she wasn't as
Alone as she felt.
 Jul 2015 an uncommon aura
moss
on this earth
in this place
things are used
as strings
for the puppet
of the population
the dancing marionettes
to not think
for themselves
they believe what
they are told to
and do not question
but questions
are important
they are a necessity
to our very survival
they want diversity
yet persecute
the truly diverse
what thought is this
that they believe
they call for logic
but do not use it
they call for peace
but start wars
they plead for love
but harbor hatred
they demand equality
and equal understanding
for different opinions
yet they do not accept
those of the people who
don't agree with them
they call for rights
then elect restrictions
and immobilities
into the office
what is this thought
what is this day
that we must live in?
Far from poetry. Just a rant.
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