I wonder how your birthday suit would taste
On Groundhogs Day

I'm curious how cool your touching hands
In our peppered moods?

And yet I think you're my favorite
Acquaintance and infliction

Upon the eyes' leisure,
When there I bite my tongue,

As timid as tangerine Suns slow to set,
Our silence still telling and wet...

I consider and call you friend
For you disperse the grey and heavy

The thunderheads of sadness
Replacing it with regalia and gay

So stylish your sintilliation of conversations
Your body language like torquoise pools

Refreshing views and clear cuts through
The babble of the rabble not much to say

You must be from tomorrow's new
Breed of brutally honest and humorous

All other spewing hubris
But you must be from a stranger world

An alien place to be so you...
Yet like Summers, in the heat of our youth

The moments that Deja vu
And dream out loud our foggy recollection

The friends I have called true
Come and go like falling stars

But the brightest stay where they map the night
There you are so brilliant a sight

You must be a real friend, a guide and then
After we have spent all hours blindly high

Oh truest North, the ***** of your light,
Keep all the lonely ones in awe

The brightest light

Must be a friend, accompany me here
Then
In the dark...

No matter how far
Hark my friend, you’re a shining
Star.

Wear the streets as the color of your skin

Some mostly see the ghetto

Or a jungle,

Watch what happens when you call me monkey...

These fists!

But when you look upon me as a friend

(Open hands clap clap

Secret handshake)

What Ev's to the "man" you work for

Let's kick it in your whip

Have the bass bounce off our teeth

It's all good to see you too

Let's keep the good ripples lit

Smile positively genuine

Groove and rolling down the street

We mean no harm

Just

AX  

No body gives a ****

Hip to game

Hop over the chain

This is the future, can't deny me mines...

Better be quick with wit

The Smarts no ****

Yet true to thine shine

Living loving

Floetry...

In King Pigeon Pose
She meditates with eyes closed.
Strengthens inner cores.

Oceans emotions
Skin dances illumine-speak:
Body says it all.

Obedient wife
lowers her gaze and herself.
Her tears: rain on grass.

My kind of company:
the artistic speak-easy lime-light
underground


weaving through brick boxes
the four walls the carpet/floor
up on eaves that hide the heavens
kept quiet like the caged bird

is

flying as it twitters / sings
past pretty prisoned things...

But my kind, he cradles freedom
waltzing through the walls
metaphoric boxes and coffins

our vision

in a waltz, as if the small of her back
were bass strings, gentle passion chords
touch  like braille to blind meaning

while the left hand above the head
always cups hers / perfect and soft
(hands - like a glove)

And my kind, again
she is a smile, like Divinci's fortune
her heart similar to Mona Lisa

is

kept secret (a curve of quiet flesh)

lips purse patience
while the vanity in affairs with airs
of eyes, wagging tails, and talk, swells
out there in the hours foretelling

the lovely song soon touch

beloved

all the feeling --ethereal and divine
as the shadows chime red wines
and woes the proclivity
of cages and walls and travels...

But the kind are
withheld / kept / proper

like abeyance with antique shoes
it
is
unmoved to bother

But my kind
goes on so,
they dance, and they tango
and all are moved as any who glance
upon great beauty
a canvas of poetry
or taste du cuisine

from the heart
springs / of the art / sings
a gentle breeze on an August day

whirling passerby
cooling the sweat from brow & nape
sharing the shade
a refreshing drink

(the milk of Tao)
Enlightenment.

My kind of character,
a kind friend I should think,

is
accepting

is
unapologetic

compliments
all and one another

we thank all
the heavens for
the Light
of our beautiful days.




(my kind rejoice
together not the same)

Sands of Time's / oxymoronic  flaccidity of minute / hands /
slowly passing.

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 ****"

Those Grinder

Power Bottoms

Are said

To converse

Spread-eagle...

What is a man?
Who shapes his words
                      His worth
Like the loudest shouting
Empty with meanings?
Manifesting a destiny...

Who is the man
We all look up to
When it is the Sun’s shine
The days arise.
How can a (running) man ?

And where in the dark pitch night
         Where men are blind
Even by their unkept
Word.
What is a man
But a caged bird?
Manifesting ...
Song.

Poppers and pour homme

Video head crisp

And clean

Thirty three...

Ol' boy's first whiff and whippets

Little balloons

Shaped like eggplant lungs...

Easy now

Inhale until it's banana peel

Flaccid...

Laughable word

Whole situation absurd.

...

Now that I'm cut

Body bait

In a glass house

Of men

Stuffed like a clown car

Their fat lip smiles

Artificial

Canine rictus

Taking whiffs

Smelling blood

In the humid beach air...

It smells like a boy's

First play date

First of everything

Daddy fox hole slings

Party N Play

With favors and favors old men

But I was thirty three

But I was the bait...

It smells like Dolce

And Gabana

Cabana boys and

Poppers.

Photograph  / by: B.Decatoria

At times I need to glance at this.
When you’ve gone, I'll think fondly of
all the summers in your smile,
you’re just so beautiful here.

And now as I look ahead
at the times I'll again need
to rout the insufficient days without you
my eyes will fall on this

Thoughtfulness
fraying at the edges.
An old glossy paper memory
kept perfect, still —your smile,
that's mine. I’ll hold it near & dear

with me.
without you…

Oh my dearest Life,
Oh soul of mine,

Oh heart!

Imperfect within this mortal coil,
Within our ribs—a cage,
Perfectly attuned to love and hate
To sky and soil,
The rage of dying days...

Oh how like the wind that craves
to rush with sighs,
To fly, to wish,
My yearning dreams doth the same
For substances of lips
Made flesh from kiss
As corporeal
Your touch since, missed
Lingers still ...

Oh when I close my eyes
How perfect my ignorant bliss
Oh I pine to fly
Away from the ache of this

My imagination's lovely will
And lovelorn heart,
Fallen apart and untouched still...
Influenced by a fantasy
A childish kind of mind, of flesh,
Eyes blind.  With much brevity

The beauty of Days' caress
Brilliant in its levity
Poetic in might :
The heart's glowing light!

Oh Beloved!
Oh divine destiny,
Infinite and true
Keep close my soul
To find always you...
Oh ever after
Ignite my starry wish
Beyond this mortal flesh

Oh heart
Oh soul
Oh heaven in my chest!
I love you still
(And always will)

Even unto death...

Orange breasted plume
of Robin bird trills in swirls,
seasoning His nest.

Poetry is the music we hear in the profound word.

Tittlating
Orations
Nightcrawler
Gift-giving
Unctuous
Edification.

Wave away the night,
Wet grass tickling bare feet.
Each morning's slow dance.

At times I need to glance at this.
When you’ve gone, I'll think fondly of
all the summers in your smile,
you’re just so beautiful here.

And now as I look ahead
at the times I'll again need
to rout the insufficient days without you
my eyes will fall on this

Thoughtfulness
fraying at the edges.
An old glossy paper memory
kept perfect, still —your smile,
that's mine. I’ll hold it near & dear

with me.
without you…

A life

Worth living

Is one

Without guilt

Or doubt.

in my quickstep i dodge pessimistic paranoia,
to make a B-line with a convincing smile
not to show you my insecurities,
since three nights dog tired

i search your listlessness, those detoured eyes,
trampoline thoughts of yours
elsewhere
which i innocently ask you where
they are, you say -in explaining-
  
    (as if to some enforcement officer or
     probationary agent in an interrogation room,
     a single naked bulb dangling in shadows,
     save for teeth and baritone accusations)

-in explaining-
you are weary .. "fati~gay" you say -having
worked out
(your *****' leisure given away,
in my head i say...
to someone else yesterday, last night...)
today-

i fix my carnivorous gravitation
on carnage with our usual
routine of euro-**** or latins
    ripped from torrents of unknown webs
that our downtown pal gifts us
regularly, having now
figured out our tastes and styles
of types of boys
or men we salivate to... he figured it
somehow

i force myself to shoot,
unload my bullets with a glass *****
inside - as i grip the handle like a ride -
my vices escape with the voices inflated,
questions to understand you
muffled by choice, not getting any
closer to...

in the release, no answers,
only music of muscles and erections
emitted from the Magnavox's shrills...
my hole seems to still need
to be filled

where once i was frequented
by the real-deal holy-meal
of your beautiful member; both of us
silencing our ordeals
with slumber now
and surgery with sugary
well-wishes

kisses don't do it for me any longer

since your energy's spent
elsewhere

(i don't seek it out
-why, or who, or even
when -did you have the time to spend?
in between the calls checking in)

it's an empty ******
when
the one you love has his
when
you rinse off the boy butter
to the noise of amateur directed scenes
Brazilians in their jungle brilliance
or the cocoa skinned of Ipanema, Egypt,
or some ******' place
where anything
and everything’s
hung black...

i don’t care if this angers you,
i know you're reading it now.

still, it's a restless sleep
when i can't stop wondering
if your dysfunction is
caused by me...
     that i'm the reason why
you disappear to complete yourself
Meet your needs
Elsewhere...

Painting words

Floral and pining

With moral sense

Taboo flowery

When

You move me from within

When light through yonder windows

Seranade

I feel eternity

Escapade.

God, how you move me...

Numbing

Numbingly

How a sad Singsong

Floats on along

In search of harmony.

Numb-ing-ly.

How I’d suffer

This miserable life with you,

Sour **** Lemony.

No song of suns.

Numbingly

I float along.

Numb.

How   Time     creeps
In the shadows
Of our worries, fearing
Becoming suddenly all alone, feeling
Memorial.
Remember those New Year's Eves
The Big Apple & Lights
Iceskating at Central Park.
How
Time,
Brief
In the shadow's following
Wha? Afraid of getting
Geriatric?
Got Old?
Fear not the Dark
At departures' arrivals.
You have it all, knowing it's nothing at all
Time gives     meaning
If Love aint
Nothing. Shhoot...

How Time ... creeps ...

(All part of growing up)

If
Only
In a pool of cool memory
Time gets no love

A quiet friend
Who seems indifferent
Most unnoticed
Just a bit a passersby

Always beginnings
At the ends

Time stands still
Inside
Where Love is
Light
We raise we rise
Every morning
In the dark of

Second-hands

Time’s distances
Each freckle.       Sparks.
Each a window to
Minds
Eyes

Twilight
Fireflies
Sparkling
Bubblies
Effervescently
Lively, lovely

Life, the gardens
of God—you
           Never fear naught or not...

Yet
In time
We grow, Love sows
Rivers of
Like my soul
A Seed
A Throne.

Oh My Goodness
How we’ve grown

Champagne Kisses
Universe

My Ohm!

That one's love were not real
To have dark doubts hide it.
That life, be it as unreal as--
Nowadays must run & fight for it.

(...as it were).

Beggar’s change buys Black.
Broken system’s open sores,
Homeless flagellates.

As I wait for the Deuce on Decatur
As the midnight hour grows later,
A young man walks on by
Says hi and not goodbye,

I recognize that look
He must be new to the Losing game
Like he’s been up wide awake
For a few nights, couple of days

Now roaming the city
Like a coyote in the dark
I’m familiar with that look
There must be sorrow in his heart

Though he had feigned a smile
His face seemed drained
His thoughts miles away
Coming down from being high?

I know what it took, that look
I recognize the hopelessness
Now wandering the darknesses
The shame of being forsook

I wonder what wrongs he’s made
When his spirit took a turn
With so many streets to learn their names
How that loss of will must burn

A passerby perhaps a runaway
It seems he's running from only himself
A young coyote wide awake
A ghost in a shell of his own hell.

A soul whose low or lost will roam
In search of light and warmth of home
Go heal your heart, or find your door,
I recognize that look, I know,
Been there before…

A passerby walking by.

MOTHER


1. (Labor)

In such pain is love
her voice reaching higher halls
giving birth with God.


2. (Genuflect)

Here to care for you
I am more than man or son
I reflect your light.

(Even when you've gone)
I'm unworthy, in your debt,
when our roles reverse.

FREE BURMA!

They cry turmoil thru my web-pages,
pages on pages of Tribunes and Suns and Times
and Quarterly

"Free Burma!"

it's all turkey and pig-latin to me,
just "dunno!"  like a dunce-capped miscreant,
inept ignorance

A kid
i wasn’t so great at geography then,
i got by before junior high.
Where-the-tarnished-nation is it?

"Free Burma!"

Notice the elephant in the room?
like a whale named *****
attempting to escape barricades
brothers of all of ours
engulfed in war
some ocean somewhere someone is dying;
notice that elephant in our laptops
ivory and blue-tooth and i phones
telling me, showing us
to care
i do / want to
we should and we must
yes

"Free Burma!"

will i need to donate a dollar,
two, three? will i receive
a correspondence
of a child i am saving
a face of a country
i'm ignorant to...
           will it's big sad puppy eyes be
commercialized?

i am no less as educated for not
following the strife of thousands
   my own is as heavy here as an orca's leap

"Free Burma!"

what cage, bear or mouse trap
have they gotten themselves
and ourselves into?
if it's anything like Yayo or Martha
business
i have a better "good thing" to do

but if it is
like famines in Africa,
Mendelson, or Tibetan Monks
on strike with kung-fu skills
i will join U2,
(and if she's aware) with Oprah power
activate!
(fist to fist)
"i will be a well of spring-water!"
and she a holy cow, a worshipped saint

"Free Burma!!"

free water
free of fear
free everyone, i pray,
under this sky
wipe away all tears

free you of your worries
free of all chains
free of mines
free of lies and borderlines.

Free to be
together
free to live and choose to see

A planet a place
A peace

"Free Burma!"

Freedom
as one
community.

For you, for me.
Home.
Free...

A Scroll Unrolls
When in Time’s wisdom
One learns to let go
The weight of want & need
The insatiable pith of greed
And lust
The beast is yourself
To defeat
The enemy that you trust
When you must
Let go...
A Scroll Unrolls
Not one river to the soul
But all with Love
A Scroll Unrolls...

Wind hops on tree tops
A howling child who is wild
Grows and makes the storm.

Red roses, sweet prose,
Cyrano Deburgerac’s
Moonlit balcony.

Such Grace, so Divine,
The words cannot embody,
Ballet when God speaks.

Miss Maya said to be eloquent,

(Meaning what words we say)

And many do repeat their repentance

Saying sorry over and over again

And many a mouths skip to the Lew,

Spewing love for many a darlings

To better their odds of getting laid...

But no eloquence was ever more true

Nor a word from a heart spoken

When love sacrifices itself for you

Poetry from painful silence

Heaven brightly shines tho' i'm made broken

From darknesses I have awoken

Love as muse ever more the eloquence

A token of poetry

Merci beau coup,

To Our Lady Angelou.

"Is it the poet who makes a poem, or the poem that makes a poet..."
B.Decatoria.

Remember when
every touch
      with all its intention
was a kindness
      Tender like our lips
      at first kiss,
deeply
in one another's eyes

      seeing with feelings
      discovery past the weight
      of fevered flesh,

a dervish flight
through those walls
      layered with doubts as heavy
      as the stones
we now turn our hearts into...

Remember when
every word
      was lovingly spoken

uplifting wisdom
like feathers, wings:
      the soft music of our mouths

      when life is floating
lanterns
and we briefly are a/part
you still have me
soar...

When we are finally as one,
whole, a hearth warm,
and ****
      those wet silences
      become undulating music
                      the times we demure
our mouths still drinking, singing
instilling lessons
      within depths : the heart's thirst

which only absolute certainty
      calms and quenches...

keeps alight and so on
carrying on
      knowing tomorrow will come
      yet when I'm with you
I am new...
even in the dark
All stars are born.

Remember when
in the break of morning
      when eyes open from trenchant sleep
      (better than adrift or hollow)
remember how stunning the view

      inhale surprised
        to waking life's wonder, then
a/part as the wars pain and riot

fearlessly I say
                depart and drink
the rain
         freedom love
sky and eyes
         will awake...

And if we have yet to meet
since I know
      Truth and believe in Love,

when I fall for you
      Thank all the heavens, vast
I fell for you
                                              I will fall up...

Because I remember
now
it's you
      Lovely      loving       love
who fills my very cup

floating in the drink
of us.

(God how I love you.)

2.

What should the heart feel
When love departs?
A sinking, achingly, breaking
Waves of
Lonelinesses : the Hungers of our souls;
Openness, vunerability, blinded
By sickness of obsessions
Adolescent crushes
Each to their own
Detrimental emotions
How do we tame
Or breathe its oceans
How should the heart sleep
When we deny it
The filigree of
Feelings

From imperfect
Worshipping machines
Blind moving flesh
Sooner laid to rest
Non-transcendents
Unloved.

Body and soul,
Life is the dress.
To Love is trust.
True heart is gold.

(Still, How should it feel?)

******* ****!

"**** if I'd known"

"That's some beautiful ****,
Where'd you get yo ****?"

"All this **** talk and talking ****, ain't half of it all"

" The future, i truly hope, will have none of the **** we got,"

" I'm over this Covid ****"

" What kind of **** do you get into? "

"Don't be full of ****..."

"Durian smells like ****, luckily it's a melon not a untidy person."

"Turn **** into dessert, like dung bettles"

"What's the best **** that ever or never happened to you"

"Colon cancer? Send in your **** in a box."

"Let the lab rummage through your ****, it's a ****** job, oh well"

"**** rolls downward, so slow your roll, *******'

"Make that **** rain, holler! Dollar dollar bills y'all!"

"Smoking a pound of ****, what you doin'"

" **** if i only knew... "

Birthday girl-woman
In a hot pink ruffled dress...
His sweet piñata.

(It takes years to...)

Master the virtue of patience, that is why I think
patience is more of a “skill” we can learn to quiet ourselves.

The classroom being your lifetime. (Sound of mind)...

I want you to understand my name,
the robes of rude electric activities
were once made to fit my
curves and canvasses
when i use to paint them
perspiration / desperate / commotions
all mixed in a soup
of sensuous satiation...

I once had hands so clever
with ingenuity and imagination,
i held nothing, really
but the naked mute
holding nothing
just palms lined with psalms'
life lines and predictions
many unable to read
or feel akin...
predictable and gullible
are we not made
to change?

In the lion's pit Daniel learned
swift and well
the name of the game is
Live to Tell,
we create our own designs
and belief
and even our own hell...

I want you to know my name
when I name one angel : "wisdom"
and one skeleton : "shame"

know me well
forget yours just the same,
once i was the victim
soon now the Lion's Mane...

One angel :  "wisdom"
One Skeleton :  *"shame"

M an’s Best Friend, my birthday gift,

O verfed and overweight

J ack Russel snores on his back

O vertly flatulent.

Fake it well and smile,
Tho’ streets hard up life never could.
Company we keep.

Hungry for loud adventure, for some attention

Open to mental and physical suggestions,

Obviously angry, not apathetic to affections,

Loneliest ones lash out closest to them.

Impervious to the consequence of Laws of men,

Game for committing misdemeanors misdeeds,

A restless kid, skater, hyperactive athlete

No Fears of peers, but tearful street meat

Some say the end comes without a heartbeat...

Downey skin so white
like a cold glass of fresh milk.
Unwrapping Christmas.

Silver spoon-fed fixations

Littered wasted City,

Unliving concrete habits

Mean street habitations

Blackened foil, thin rabbits

Syringes and broken glass,

Cigarette butts with

Felatio-Red lipstick stains

The age-rings of Sin City,

Like great trees

Of iron

A bright forest of filthy.

Hate & taint in between city,

Homelessness and transience

Broken system without pity

Hell's ****** relations,

Silver Spoons

Feeds fixations...

When the question is

You

Who will answer to you,

For you

No one else can do

What you can —for you.

If you have to ask

Time is what

You have.

In due time, you’ll know

You

Purposely Livin’

Purpose full of life.

Where are you but where you

Stand

When wakes your soul/in mind

3rd Eye, white light,

A door to Beloved

Days in the life of

Who are you?

When the Question is you and yours,

I hope you answer yourself

True.

But why are you

Who you are,

Truth is self evident

Oh say, can you see

What I see

You see, there’s no question

ILoveYou.



(By the dawn’s Early Light!)

"Doctor said to look for blood in your stool, what color's that **** suppose to be? "

" Get over your **** already"

" Tired of your ****. "

" Knowing all the **** that you've done, better pray for your ****. "

" It's no fun picking up ****, or cleaning up after people's ****"

"Don't give me that ****"

" I call *******. "

"**** doesn't bother me, **** don't surprise me either. "

" It's all turning to **** anyway"

" **** ain't free no more"

" Don't make it about **** that's outside of your own ****. "

" Time for some better ****. "

" Back in the day, **** never needed trending"

" **** flew by"
" Barely remember all the **** we got into. "

" You deserve an award for your ****. "

" How do we fix the world's ****? "

"You **** a log, **** was big, clogged up the toilet! Ain't that a ***** coming from a little person"
Ironic ****.

"Did not ask for crap, but bit into a **** sandwich. "

" Just for ***** and giggles. "

The Rose and Lotus
Wed in ripe sunset vineyards.
New Love’s red vintage.

If . . .

Wish The Whole World Would

Be without

Self

Opinion

How lovelier

The Whole

within

Could be

Without.