You are an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea--jason mraz

* * *

"Talk to John about your ****."

"Got fired for that ****."
"Got paid to do ****."

"No ****, really"

"Its all the same ****, different day"

" Words are only words, you ain't ****."

" Time to get woke, and get **** done."

"oops, just Sharted"

" You'll pay for that criminal ****, if you didn't know"

"Shiiiit"

" Don't sleep where you shat"
" Don't **** where you eat"

"Quit the ****
If it don't help your **** or
Better your ****"

A Gracious Lover’s Kiss

1.
Poetry is
Writing what all we felt
When the heart is asked
To translate.

Poetry is
Love,
Made malleable
Through the eyes
Which behold beauty.
Poetry is Life,
The love of life, malleable.
Poetry is meant to be
Touched by
To be moved by
(and with)
Love...

Poetry is
A song of words
A dance of exuberant emotions
A Grace
       Full of gracious
(a)  Lover's kiss.

Poetry is
Jump for joy and stabs of sorrow
Sculptor Singing Sepulchers
Molding nights & days
A mash up
Into one and the same
Something brand new
Reinventing
Recollections
Of / For / To  - You
True blue or Red hot stuff
We lie to believe in
Ourselves
Something better / New
Flower Love Child
You had better
Best believe
Poetry is
You.

2.
It's not what you're looking at,
But what is seen.
What you see / what you feel
In the zeal of heart's appeal
A beautiful up-lifting
To artistic heights

Poetry is
Mortality made miraculous
Charisma and magic
Choreography of verb / Oh's Of nouns
All the world - a profundity
Of Our lives
Whether lost or found

The Love letters / in red envelopes
Your heart
Crowd surfing
Amongst the herd;
Blossom bouquets of passions
Poetry is

The quietude and secrets
Kept
In the shade
In a home, a warmth made
Or an ode to a glade,
For the night
Of the empty souls'
Respite

Poetry is...
Your bleeding heart
Shining bright
Your Grace
An invisible light
Only to be seen
By knowing
One's true
Feelings

Poetry is
A Painting
Of Love's loud moments...
It's not what you gawk at,
But what is gleaned.

Poetry is...

How We Do Family



The older elders have their superstitions,

Tiny rituals they keep under their breath

Spitting

Wards & incantations

Sweep of broom stick, and what the hex?

Is Grams commanding demons

“In the name of the Father

And his son Jesus!”

“To get out of this house?!”


We all have one of those…

The lost cause / loose cannon

Black sheep first cousin

Into *******, or something unacceptable.

Perhaps their smell or appearance?

But with all the many different kinds

Of races of people / faces

Painted, pierced, gold plated,

We are biologically similar

Homosapien kin

Bleeding tribes, clans, houses,

Fathers and sons

Who believe in war for the higher cause$

All above

Behold Us here below

How does life persist panhandling

When the world dies in

Misunderstanding...?


But we tolerate our

Alchy parents, addict uncles, ****** aunts

Long lost siblings on / Suicide watch …  

Because our humanity for our family

Shouldn’t change what our eyes must see…

Can’t push brick mansions

But we all can climb those very walls,

It’s how we do family

(Together standing tall)


Love accepts without opinion

Without doubt or regret

No hate to have dominion

Peace be (Unconditionally)

And All the best.

How we do...

Inspiration is Divination.


Definition : Divination – “the practice of prophesy, of seeking knowledge of the future, Unknown, by supernatural means/divining”

Definition : Inspiration – “the process of being
Inspired by, being stimulated to creativity,
The Art, of beautiful things divine from humility.”




Inspiration is Divination,
A sort of magic / making
The mundane as Muse,
The inspiration, a beauteous thing
All eyes fall upon / to worship.

Inspiration is Divination
Reanimation imagination perspective
Shaper of reality —how doth vision?

When it’s sheens / of wetness
On smoothest stone / after the rain
Rays of daylight piercing gray,
At an angle, for a split second,
It appears / to shimmer like a jewel

A perspective moment, introspective worth
Of rougher stone, good enough
To gaze upon
So intrigued / interestingly…

The briefest breath of curiosity
The strange queries of such gravity
The mundane / beautiful things
All that our lives make to sing
Poetry’s butterfly wings.

Inspiration is Divination.

Traveler.


I am the Eagle with wingspans
Of impossible delights
Who argues with it it's flight
Incapable to be free
In a sky without the Light

I am now a ghost
Here reading poetry
Its once living years:
A breeze through eyes
Filled with tears;

I am the gargoyle pacifying all fears
Past the darkest night.

This is a wish, a kiss, deep
A hopeful sigh;
Hands bound, fingers clenched
For Love to deliver me
From here/now
To a place called perfection.
Beyond
Infinitely.

“I am fish/sparrow”
Swimming in the in-between
Looking to always see.
No end to the ends…

Sunrise and free.

Sin City with blinders,
Bird **** on the windshield

A herd of burly men in pastels and summer shorts
A row of parked rental Lamborghinis
Commiserating and taking selfies,
Loudly showing off,
Posting on social media or
Dating Apps
Snapchat snapshots
Hotshots in Sincity with the bling ca-ching!
It's a ****** rental, for christ-sakes!
Where's Dateline's to catch a predator,
What good is a thousand words when the picture is telling lies?
What happened ? In Vegas,
Bright lights' bite, vice, and ****, looks like magic.
Sin city running with blinders.
Birdshit on the windshield.
A dry desert thirsts for rain.
(Empty swag bags....)
****'s all the same.

Smoking trees
Painting poetry on the web
Held hostage via
Snapchat clap traps
Viginas, analogued
**** was making the internet...
Smoking Grass all the while
Homegrowns not a lone
(Fringe science)
They hide us in the darkness of ourselves,
Seeing eyes from on high
Our most inner deeps
Life's great oceans ride
Dauntless be,
Write your poetry
By how you give a hand
The last boy scout
Smoking trees.