I took everything
all of it.
Ischemic tangeniency had offered
me the souls of my Christians?
I deferred to poetry and rhapsody.
Like a Vampire Weekend concert.
Oh, without magic wands,
or tutilage of mystery.
I took everything.
It feels like an ancient rain.
Like an old president as our king.
He and she had to tell a few lies
before death and then took the
truth to sleep.  She of course
was a Bonaparte, and he of
course was from Oxford.
He wrote Frankenstein because
of their affair, she wrote the
crowned prince a diamond of Hope.
And his family lied in the mote.  
From the Battle in Boston, to the
French and American and The Seminole
War.  How would I ever know that
crossing the Patomic ment
King George the Third
lying on my floor.
To this day, I swear
The First President
of the United States
is the King of England.  

How dare you? Know the truth.  
He wrote the whole book
and that we had taken
everything they want
as an Oath.

All of the fancy
they
could

every love.

As let as love
as nothing yet.

No secret kept.
No dream to service
as a bet.

No cold dream to forget.

They have desired to regret.

Love, as nothing
as everything
untold.

No rythm
to listen to
of an old drum.

Just drunken spirits
without the ***.  

Oh, these morbid
and fickle
les zen lei' bold.

They speak to french
kiss the dead undead
reading the poetry
of our life in dote.

They do not know
why New Orleans sells
spicy sea food.

Oh, the marrage proposal.

To many lovers
no children to hold.

The children leave
as Luke's dreams
of sky walking
to freedom lands.

They chide the child
and know no REN.  

Chide ren, as do children
know parenthesis.
Due trust is
to hold the
option of freedom.

The job
40 years,
demented posthumously.
The award of state hood
for mental posterity.  

Just chill and watch the sunset.

I just wrote the
"The better is left unsaid."

Ode to the frenchless
kiss,
I... will... knot... lie...
for the benefit.

I wanna get over you



But I can't climb that high

I
Miss
YOU*

and now you are texting me
telling me *baby I love you
I cant live without you
I need you
and the only thing you didn't say
was I'm sorry i hurt you

Love is between
Those too blind
To realize that time
alway ends.
The eternal moment
Lasts forever
With ignorant fervor
defending ideals.

Ever dreamers
Stuck on a notion
Ignoring emotion
for a feeling.
Validating security
By blissful mistake
In order to make
each stronger.

I don't calculate, I experience,
Mapping a constant circle
Of endless enlightenment;
Your line of logic runs tangent
And I need no proof that
My limit does not exist.

Rose by any other name
sprouting in the city,
does not sell as sweet --
A dandelion plucked
from Midwestern soot,
blown to the wind, assumed
Out-shown by gardens
of the proven perennial
(once Violet, Lily, or Daisy)
Waiting on bated baby's breath
to blossom beyond marigold,
an undiscovered exotic
For this concrete jungle.

Violets rage
with indigo pulses
beneath the shadows
of your parents' porch;
Spitting purple, but
soaking the rainbow
from whatever light
granted by the sun.

It was just one of those moments
In combat, the soldier guessed,
One of those gritty times of war,

When who was who
Didn’t matter no more.
The girl he held

Was dying fast,
Her feeble breath
Ebbing away

Across his shoulder
Like a frail tide of being;
Someone’s bundle of joy;

A bloodied jumble
Of flesh and bone;
Which at home,

No doubt,
Would cause a stir,
If known, or seen;

But this was war,
The cruelty of war;
Taking no sides

Amongst such slaughter;
Someone’s child,
Someone’s daughter.