Moan.
      Y a w n.
Purr.

How I adore our meanderings.
Mornings of misfit nomads
waking to the sturdy fur of you,
     pecks, abs, inner thigh
unclad
body heat...

The world outside feels absent,
your hardness
your breath
presently
itching against yesterday's 5-o'clock
     shadow...

We breakfast on such sensations
     satin thousand threads
sifting in grips of sheets
          creating
    silken dunes of flesh creamy hues
soft mounds from our twist
                tied
tethered limbs
then opening passages with kisses
     and humid licks
our lips:
camelback & cobra songs
to Sahara

           Heatwave

where we worship obelisks
until slumber
has rendered us
              stardust and sphinx
mused and fused - our flesh again
in hymns
     this Sunday morning...

Less stealth of night but copious
is touch
         slithering undulations
         of parched needs
for us to swim in the hunger of its seas

Since sensing sensual stiffness
     your shifting
            your shaft
my blood collects
    to tighten what is mine within

When this grabs hold of us
like the blinding noon
we forgive
           that it is Sunday
mourn that I thirst for you.


Such thickets of urges
   juicy sweet confection / completion's
masculine deprevation
         half grin half flurry,
                     No worry
displacing thoughts of infection
secure in our relations...

Stretching with both my hands
behind me
        gripping with claws of the passionate
buttocks raised (waiting for rain)
as if to be seen & named
      by the gods' - creative breath and shame
           I yearn for your embrace
Heaven forgive me
for the heaven he gives me...

Affirmed
as though we were the firmaments
      sky without permission (or air rights)
to fly
comely
and in our rhythmic trance

we become Spartans
(with our war cry)
         Driven
                 Breathing
One defeat
          Shriven as we're falling
One choice to leap.

                          Exhale Olympus
Fallen pillars' hush.

Good morning, Love
   a taste of how Nirvana feels

constellations and the heavenly
wheel.

Stretching.
Eyes open to take in my world.
         Stretching

Behind
Reaching for you

if just briefly knowing the whole truth...

With a mindful heart's
luminous spirit, you will
love and not worship.

1.
No separation.
One color, both black both white.
Being : Day & Night.

2.
Mother and Father
Without, within, both are one
flesh / of love / to birth.

*(Chi - Omnius Plus Perfectum)

1.
Remember the puppet that you were

who thought himself
a real boy
still only just a boy

remember
like perusal of hate mail
        their postal telepathy
as though flipping through cellophane
photo albums of many nameless
faces

distant / detached / unmarred

Remember how you had
not known them then
                 floating on airs
ignorant  / clueless / willful
still constantly fair

like May flowers
in pebbled gardens

Self sacrificed fool
still only just a boy
and like all in their youth
selfishly optimistic
        a wide bellow
for the wide world
and untoward
night

Yet this life / its tangled strings
(tug & pulling)
with Geppetto's fermented footing

precariously
curious and nimble

such as
and / that boy was
quite...
           agreeable to a fault

happy to oblige a fly

But something else
also had its gravity
(pride for tiger stripes)
taunt
there within : an invisible string

to keep true
be mindful
be cool
(nimble thimbles cool)
searching  but not so...

"you will know when you find it
you, a perpetual student"

open
as pouring rain
always in awe of it
                                  all
dismissive of the drowning
barely afloat in city-scape

And now a real boy
living / colors / the lessons
of life  
            a dance  
     (Kick ball change)

carrying its rhythmic weight with
a style & a smile
always in all ways / in awe

Boy refusing to grow up
who's dreams are tall
Inside a lotus waits to open

Brown Eyes
         like quiet ripples

A dragonfly
on the pond

in our pebbled garden.


2.
Smooth stones
pave a path for bare feet
there's no use or need for dirt
on our way toward
peace.

no ripples on the pond
dragonfly wings - like glass...
clear of mind
tend to the life and health of our garden
that is the duty of Earth's wardens
a light to shed the night...

although the lotus may bloom
out of season, arriving late,
it is the wisest of all flora
knows to wait for the rain,

so here we are late bloomer
Lion of the southern gate of Maan,
looking for you ...

The circumference of every pond
is only valued by how deep
it quenches
the thirst those who drink...

my hands are empty
and what falls from heaven I will cup
that's my gift, overflowing, honest, open
Falling
up.

Feline glowering
At **** Clowder of Sphinxes.
Felix caught a chill.

She has tender dirt upon her fortitude,

I wonder if she's forgiven herself yet...



Push your grief, shopping-cart lady

carry your health in head-lights

island of hide and highways,

I loud-speak in a single look

you're someone's mother, sister, child

a sorrow-go-round ride

in blankets that have not seen

Gain or Tide

push your millions

pop cans, wine bottles,

tin / glass monies

carry that dynamic dust

each piece a street

each spot someone's ungiving grunt

each step in a nowhere hunt...



She has museums in her silence

I wonder if her love has hues of contradictions...



Push on, you ribald mule!

carry on in your refugee stink,

sandpaper sandals and scarlet scars

scabs that slow speak

each winter and Valentine,

to think you're someone's mother, sister, child

sorrow-goes-round

village-wild

your stubborn pride far from mild



Float on, shopping-cart lady

stay in each hair-pin hour

in this bankrupt ballet

is this a way to live...?

Your hunched shadow

has no voice, no answers to give...



She has blossoms and duty in her hands,

I wonder if fate partners her dance...

pushing that cart, this life by chance



she's someone's

mother, sister, child

a woman who's homeless

no choice for the wild.

Lately I feel wayward

Over the moon, frenzied emotions

Vermillion chaos

Entangled thoughts run amok.


Pleasantly out of sorts,

Off balanced, too much of this, of you,

Effortlessly beautiful, it’s true,

Making grown men

Swear and cry —to be forgiven…

THE JOINT
                      For that glaucoma
                      Life gone in a puff of smoke
                      squint's view of your world.

THE CLICK
                     Straight up chillaxin'
                     The coolest with nuttin' said
                     A "G" with the ****.

THE POINT
                      Wussup to all this?
                      An identity crisis
                      Find your peace - in mind.

my devil's vanity wants
the endowment
the wam-bam empowerment
of unscripted, animalistic ***
mean machine / making
satiation at it's best...

red roses are sweet
candlelight, wine, and chocolate-covered
romance,
it's such a treat
to see your gentille side, lover
every chance

you buy gifts in abundance
but all i need -- i can't ask,
the prowess of an artist
you obviously have
yet the prowess of a real man
the brute strength of lust
you only have a quarter of a half

can you vandalize me
with the proficiency of a thief
pleasure me until relief

forces our worlds to shake
dry deserts in our mouths / throat,
soaked in a rough ride's wake

prowess of a true bloke : sweat and caress
pleasure me until i lose all
my breath and consciousness...

can you crave me
everyday / a ******* need
and only a real man can feed
me, increases me, releases me

the prowess of a macho man
a super / man / can
sprinkles it with thrusts
and makes the world
taste good...

red roses are sweet
but hunger is sustained
with only food could
****** treats
frolics on your wood
testerone prone
bites me
ignites me
prowess of a dog on a bone

damage me until i'm gone
my devil's vanity wants

© 2008 Poetic Fluffer

Shy color of skies'
sun blushing - everlasting
beauty blooms divine.

I would of liked to have said good byes
Look upon your face into your eyes
Looking for my little princess somewhere in there
I want to tell her I was sorry

Before I leave

I want my baggage to be light as air
No strings to bring me worry
When recollecting the most memorable
Letting **** go, most amiable

Before I leave

The America that fostered me, Disney made believe
My hopes heart filled with 3-D colored dreams
I hope to give my thanks even on the other side
The world might end while closing the eyes

Before I leave

I would rather not have any need of all that
Find myself in all this, happy at that...
I would of liked to have waved goodbye
As I fly away ... Heartbroken in the sky ...

Before I leave

I just want to know "why?"
What did I do so wrong? Did I hurt you?
With my "such a user" usefulness, a deadbeat dad,
Reasons running away with the ghosts of us

The ones that haunt me still (eek-gad!)
I will let go / of - flying home past the clouds
I will look down and feel how small I'm now
and how wonderful the world I see!

Before I leave...

*(it's not about me)

After the preaching is

Done-finished picking at the scabs

Of our guilt,

At week's end / day of rest;

When we almost had it gone

Forgotten

From our minds...

It's a kinder kin to amnesia

A softer fog of fugue

A healing art of our brain farts,

Not soaking in shame's

Diminishment

Or stewing in self helps

"Deliver us!"          bow down genuflect

But then again

Here we are together to gather

Uncomplainingly

Complacently listening

Absorbing every lash

Of the metaphorical whip,

To be guided back to good

The sermon for the humans that we know

We are -- unworthy

But willingly we suffer

The word...

On how to be just like

The lamb...


So afterwards, when after we've been

Emotionally & verbally punctured

Full of hollow

We are holes unworthy

Of being

Made whole...

Or so, we've been told

It is written.


So then let us meet for homily

After King James harangues us

His version of fellowship,

Let us have verbal

******* with the word.

Perhaps over supping

Or during beer & NFL

Or some blood

Sport

Non-emasculating

Reminding us how

Weekends roar

And Life is

Worth more

Than the inner wars

We are ourselves

Fighting.

After the sermon,  

Let's have true verbal

*******.

(Without a shred of guilt.)

MEGA-man! & The s i c k l y  WORLD!

“Who survives?!”

Each other’s exhalations.

Let's pretend I can read your mind.

What unkind words would you not say,
     whose name would you hide?

What places would you flee, in dismay,
or wish to Caribbean cruise to?

If I could hear your love,
what would it tell me
     that I do not already know?
What kind of fantasies would whisper?
Will your fears be softly moaned,
or scream loudly to be let go?

Let's pretend you knew I could
hear deeper all your silences,

     how many flatteries, there, would echo
like broken vinyl,
a skipping heartbeat, a flat tire...on the road…

Would you still lie, if you knew--that I knew,
still believe in them?
Still make me believe you good?
(never telling the truth)

Let's say you could
hear my thoughts... my inner worth...

Would you condemn me and herald my secrets?
Command me for your work
     make me a lackey
     or say I'm crazy
to everybody—a nobody...?

If you could see inside me
or feel my worst hurts,
would you understand \why and how
my heart should burst?

And of course, this is all make believe,
imagination at it's height,
     but true life is another sort
     of his and her stories….

from our minds' eyes
to witness
to be told :  be realized.
And every tale has once come true:
man now
     flying, cloning,
          in rockets to the moon,

I'm sure my fiction will be
written soon, if not already
In that book...

what kind of mood
“He” must of had when craving
King & Koontz
the idea of me...
           (and “god” knows who)
scratching chin
his beard of white
in a bowl of crocodile tears,

playing pretend,
and silent night
our living years...in a sigh.

(No need to read your mind
I can feel your lies, goodbye.)

White Cookie-dough Cush
Rainbow munchies, puff-puff give:
Life's stunted Bonsai.

Modernity sounds so much like too much like

She's a mother

Not a trucker, mister bucks,

Too mature

She seems atypical maternal wit

Matrimonious

Age of knowing better...

And most times bedwetter babes

Ignorance can't write you letters

So now how's this just now

New most times certain to be

Better

The weather our love encounters

Living Modernism

A breath without Lies

I chose to utterings no longer

Long means "dragon"

Wars' fiery language

How loud dead pasts linger

Mosaic hearts that we are

The bird is the finger

Hate's invisible fire

Chaos speaks

When no truth in modernism

Where none dare to sleep.

More fashion forward

The All of Ages

The pages the Here and Now

Modernism weeps

Her mystique...

Knowing How.

Now...

Remember the puppet that you were

who thought himself
a real boy
still only just a boy

remember
like perusal of hate mail
        their postal telepathy
as though flipping through cellophane
photo albums of many nameless
faces

distant / detached / races

Remember how you had
not known them then
                 floating on airs
ignorant  / clueless / willful
still constantly fair

like May flowers
in pebbled gardens

Yet this life / its tangled strings
Deep sea of trees
(tug & pulling)
with Geppetto's fermented footing
precariously
curious and nimble

that boy was
quite...
           agreeable to a fault

happy to oblige a fly
Try not to waste in thought

But something else
also had its gravity
(pride for tiger stripes)
taunt tainted trite
there within : an invisible string

to keep true
be mindful
be cool
(nimble thimbles cool)
Indian in steel cupboards
searching but not so...
High times
"you will know when you find it
you perpetual student"

open as pouring rain
always in awe of it
                                  all
dismissive of the drowning
Empty can be pain
barely afloat in city-scapes

Boy refusing to grow up
who's dreams are tall
Inside a lotus
Cup of hands
              Lips waits to open
Brown Eyes
         like quiet ripples
Electric wings
A dragonfly on the pond
in our pebbled gardens.

Excitedly I say once,
"if love was a substance,
if only more than
some sort of word, more concrete
if only"

rather than heard
in song made wispy or absurd
instead bold in your face apparent

a freakshow, cirque du taste
such theatrics (once) those lips
the film noir of your thrilling face.

Undeniable you
unabashed like a growth
to the left
a mole on your kind skin
red lipstick puckering miss Monroe
eyes that ooze dreamy

How I always noticed you (once)
saying "Ooh look here, this is love"
pointing to that dot
but i know love is more than
a tiny tiny blemish (Marilyn's coy mole)

once a beauty marked me
with what was quick draw and newly raw
touch with much whirling
such were we
openly exposed to

Love : Effulgent

All things of wealth imbue
matters less now
than the absolute truth

golden glow not many know
what all we felt
suns, dawns, and throne

So wretchedly loudly
made so obvious / where we partook
if briefly donning heaven in our looks

hold on
my arms - keep hold
i say to what was once

love now as heavy as you're letting go

caustic as your doubts
as I remember saying
"look here -- once, this was love"
now just a gesture
where stands my shadow

as I regret
not informing you : "should of kept your eyes open
during the fall
should of kept honest is all..."

If only love to you
was of some real substance

beyond misty hours or
something like
the prose of rain to heartache
empty like open doorways of us before

because

once is now
no more.

1.        Dying of a day /     reflections


on surfaces of oceans


burnt umber, blue, and blood

the sinking sun

                       wounded

death is red


before the dark         / ruins...



2.

It is the sensation of ripples
when supple pink linguist
leaves poetic yearning

fires touching
on nape and taste,

lifting countries and new
conquered kingdoms
of skin

gooseflesh and earthquakes
blood as lava

rushes in
     kabuki cheeks
          secret joy begins

red and parched

sudden seas of thirst
parts / our senses / must
breathe ...
(like art)

Magic whispers kiss
because touch enpassioned
is red
    and wish.



3.

Love lorn letters

poetic bliss
     spontaneous wings born


each ache and void
trumpeting words

when distance fails
the hearts which speak

red

the oceans felt
the tides that ebb
hurried pleas

desperations
red

when letters
lose the dying magnitude

the importance
and impetus

that love must free

clarion song
of hearts are red

as are all
kisses (scarlet)
even to air
and dead

begins on such lips

red....

Curiosity was killing cats
especially when Prohibition says
that cats ain't gon' scratch...?
Uh huh, feverish she is.
Now Ms. kitty is on
the tin roof
On fire!
Itchy's whining, scratchy's moaning
Howling
at the full moon's
reflection on the
Mississippi,
**** thirsty for
some Drank!

They're lighting up the north east corner of "the meadows"
practice run with low flying pyrotechnics
Sin city reds and globular silvers like coins exploding
against the new born summer sunset night
while the pillars of cumulonimbus thunderheads claw the desert sky
and like sharp fingers that squeeze a water filled balloon
the roiling fronts will burst and its dark deluge will gush
as the lightning flicker behind the gloom
and the boom of the Gods colliding battle  on high
shakes the earth and bones that languish in its boon...

Let the celebration begin, its 4th of July weekend,
let's recall how this great nation got its independence
by each **** of a fellow immigrant from the Mother Queen's scrutiny
cousin with your race & legacy in mutiny

how odd the madness of the power that deludes and controls
commands without minds finding recognizing similarities
in the Simeon faces of fellowships in God
turned traitorous in the name of freedom & love
how high that pedestal we have built to make idols of
slave owning founders with their profundities of words
to make law a movement, verbs for pride and enforcement
of unjustified bloodletting
See how modivated the stampede
as they rush washed of their guilt to take precious
the lives that have fell without having yet learned to live it

Let us get drunk on ale, and dress up in re-enactment
and cheer the invasion of the land not belonging
nor will ever belong to any mortal man
who will lie in its' skin in the end since life is brief
as a musket flash or saber's slashing the breath from their necks
Let us respectfully remember how putrid the blood
and the diseases that bubbled from therein
Let us celebrate that old America who's governing bodies
as white as the wigs worn in parliament
and lingering still the idolatry of such grand fathers
to dismiss the atrocities then
and ignoring the colors that now myriad
our country's racial profile / face / forward / march...

Can we then presume to celebrate the massacres after
the revolution in its greatness and re-written historical text
to condition the minds of our own
still underdeveloped --so as not to question
Gramp's authority,
or question the miens by which the old hatreds bleached
and soaked itself in the common sense

Can we celebrate the truth?
and in memorium of the old world
when freedom that was fought for
against the powers of powerful governments
we stand thankful now with what this world stands for

Let us dance and sing and hoopla
because we have succeeded in making it
creating that dream of total equally
with every struggle for the truthful peace
there was pain and growth of our nation's reign,
with every war never to be won
we find victory in the lives that discard its old ways
of divide and conquer
Because this is your America,
in debt and desperate for a new balance
and refreshing breath without
from within... the thoughts we collectively share
We are human after all
we are evolved and intelligent
and we can take what ever the **** we want
because we have the best immigrant minds
and we're # 1...

I can hear the popcorn firecrackers
with squealing of children's laughter fading
as the storm sweeps in...

if it is the future we reason
that we fight for, why do we celebrate with dishonesty
and deny ourselves the true face
of a miracle that is this current state ...?

It seems that it is and will become too loud
for anything other than exploding glitter in the sky
and doubt with its enemy - faith
is as silent as the thieves that steal dreams
that shatter like

exploding glitter in the sky...
if only awe was as that innocent and meek
when secretly I still wish
"God save the Queen"
and beg for world peace...

New
To this plasticity,

Grey matter in a nimbus
Mind as infinitely hollow as

A galaxy or dungeonous dream
Lost to the starlight oblivion

Of distances we place
In the familiar / fealty and touch:

Our human gravity
Spirits and superstitious will

Heavy by testaments and old teachings still.
Yet war has been our

Problem-child
And like the parents that we are

These days, digital,
We are unwilling to accept its prognosis

Nothing more can be
Poured into a vessel,
Nothing more can be fed into the flame,

If ash and black
Lift into the sky…

It will be alien

To even try to
Resurrect another age

When there is no warmth or
Use for light

In a world that has become
alien…

Ultrasound preform
who's quickened heart is my own:
Great Mandragora.

WITCH HAZEL
                            Into the green wood,
                            where the mortar grows its stones.
                            Moons for sacrifice.
                            

POULTICE**
                            Chew and ruminate.
                            For whatever ails the wife,
                            he will sleep for good.

What happens ...

As the I-15 climbs the sierra hills
the surrounding desert bush
tumble dried scenic route
Bolder Northward to Boulder City
the size of a town really
lets not digress now as we reach the summit
driving 5 passed the 75 mph limit
the valley below us now opens wide
now as the evening cools us
open car widows and rock anthems
about Love, lost, and forever 'til the end of...

What happens on the way ...
if one is restless, a running mind a hamster wheel
be the silent witness observant as
the stars that are more brilliant in the dark
highways of red white light bulbs
head and rear breaks
polka dots of glow on the late lanes
this interstate night tour
play the mute passenger screaming loudly with your eyes
and watch and listen (black asphalt hum)
feel and sense with thoughtful heart fiber
of being as One
and as a witness must see also must know
where we're headed
Billboard signs say "Dinner & A Show"
down in the valley soon to call home...

What happens ...
to each their own manifest,
destiny is your experience accepted
or refuse and deny your living as proof
we can tell one another how it goes
or if suddenly how it went
the words of a traveler (knows it does
no justice)
take a trip--find out for yourself--discover
what was happening
now that we are closer to here
sin city neon bright
welcomes you
heat waves and winter black ice
flash floods thunder lightning showgirls
gamblers loss of identities
*** ***** DUI and Mormons doing ****
what happened?
(If not yet been had)

The artificial life and transient folk
the only bad is being good
welcomes you  
with bright lights and carousel hours
spinning tea cups and misplaced wonderment
eyes open wide asleep
loss of purpose and colorful dreams
running as one (like them)
in the hamster wheel...

Why ask --why--what happens
when we've all been out of place
where are we now that we're here
and its elsewhere from where we should
Desperation & Needles
black and jack and stratosphere suicides
if you look on the map
off the walls shine and glowing
it says "you are here"

yet we're still askance & confused
again asking
What happened ... here?
Who were you, when?
And again good friends to the end
still the road is paved
with good intentions and afterglow
if you happened by
Upon
the Strip...

Just the arrival of diamond light of stars
across the firmaments,
in the heavens - all one heavenly night
how such infinite wonder
coalesce in a canvas ceiling of kaleidoscope dreams
our days not defeated gone
but behind the curtains of twilight glows
a night light embraced by moon-shadows
There is no hiss when the sun sets, sinking
on the oceans west
it swims as a pearl in the deeps of heaven's own
abyssal seas
this is how I imagine  the sun when stars sleep
dreaming of fire swimming,
the unquenchable spirit that is divine
what is must be like ...
to be beside and alongside The Wonder
that is within
You,
Infinite One...

I can only imagine and cross my fingers
that I may dream,
and when I wake, I open my eyes to see the day,
You have not gone
Having Always been
here and now
when evening draws the curtains
navy in the sky
I forget what fear was
because I do not fear to dream of
Lovely Loving
Love

Life is but a dream
just for us.

The mind is a fragile glob of a thing
central command /
controls to the push buttons.

...and there is a reason
why the surgeon-generals
scientist's with their lab-rats
                  witch-craft
place warning labels
on cigarettes / monoxide fumes
cancer wafting in

and reasons why
the educational systematic d.a.r.e.
warns of the downfall
having anti-drug
show and learn
with actual footage
         films about enbibed catastrophe
black and white Ansel shots
needles / puncture holes / junkies

(show them,
they do not wince
they've become tolerant,
immune to their everyday occurance
like morning coffee's
little push.)

Slides on red tape ******-scenes
angry D.A.D.D.'s
S.A.D.D. mothers
radical vehicular
Mr. A Anonymous
involuntary
man-slaughter
Non Applicable
Under the influence
teaching
prevention
to the already numb

Although experience
is the best kind of good teacher
to be a youth in our day

is to be impetuous
capricious
typical
naïve  
mistaken,
even grievous

when i wish now
since from before
the voices that whisper

in my head
my name
tell them to
close the door

that keeps them out

behind
them...

Oh this human condition,
A mortal coil it's said
          An amalgamation of contradictions....

I have witnessed as observant
A silent servant
(Like a punctuation,
A grain of sand am I then)

Debris from vast beyond
A whirl from cosmic maelstrom and
Now this here, we are
Alive as bone begotten
From stellar stones higher than
Our cloud valhallas

How relative the chaos
Stranger still for its distances
To parallel - how storms also do
Possess a spectrum.

Now this here, as a heavy carcass
With visionless eyes
As fragile as glass
Riding tornadoes and catastrophe
Like roller coasters
Blast
Off
Since
We are no longer from nothing,
We no longer fear
But third eye mind still blind
An intelligence that's forgetful

Of that of which is relative
(Living proof)
In every passage
We are mortal with
Each morning
Doors we enter thru...
(Yet few recall the lives before)

All I know is how to be
A better form of what I was just
Yesterday
When passersby keep on asking

"Did you find yourself then?"
This too shall also pass
                     Memory feels more far away
I say:

"The story's not yet done"

What path you choose, the one you love,
Is the same path
Of awe
Of beauty
Of Grace
I bare witness
To this life
Still trying to love it all

Oh woe is me!    
    (felicitously)
Oh, This mortal coil, how beloved
Life I see
               A universe of mystery
Together
We shall see
               Riding our tomorrow
Like a maelstrom
Fearless
On great tornadoes...

I bare witness
To thee. (I'mmortality)

The river of Time

Rages rapid or sluggishly slow;

Undulates each birth's decay - the ebbs & floes,

Awhile fathers of men ride your very tides

Upon their aged faces longingly, mortality cannot hide...


(Time.)

Nocturnes wide awake
All the days inside
Infant dreams

Nightly flights
Til morning
Blush/strokes twilight brightly

Blindly painting
Colors never before or ever
Since seen

But in slumbers’ deepest wish
These high-noon deserts
Brimming white Heat

Waves of ether
The ethereal bloom
Light defeats none but we

Moonless starlings
Cat-calm Cool turquoise
Tearless eyes emoting

Vast and fastidious
Chinook whirlwinds
Climbing the on-coming storm

Dreamer maelstroms
Fearless babes we embark we,
Dancers in the Dark.

From Oceans' breadth
To Skies, mountains, rivers, plains.
Waterfall-showers.

Today I am reminded
To appreciate her
Remember
To celebrate her
Like we do
The gifts
Each Decemeber.

Today we all are
Similar
Having her as dearest
And most familiar
Today belonging
As we all are belonging
To our loving
Mother(s)

Today I am reminded
Of who I am
Because of her
And no other
I know love
And learned to be a man

Today it's her we thank
It's Mother's Day
Blessed be creation's dance

And I am reminded
How once she held
My tiny little hands...


*(I am no one with you, nanay.
   I'm forever grateful.)

Ever the Mayfly’s
Passerby-Passionings
Hovering in the quick-day heat
Ever the Mayfly thickening
Minutes of a lifetime
Ever the brief flight
Remembering Le petite mort
A requiem dance
Living for one day perhaps...

The warmth of fire light
During cold starless nights
Wraps me as once you did
When we first romanced the stars
Naming them for each other
And for futures bright with hope...

The gray overcast and cold
Brine in the wind upon a somber beach,
Before and after the storm begins
And the rain itself heavy on the sand
Reminds me, even then, when
It is a lonely day

How beautiful to be
Delivered here, knowing touch
To be made real
By love
By your existence,
having been
Having held a  tiny moment

I see you

In the crest of the waves,
In the embers that spark to kiss the air
And the ashes of a once living
Branch of a tree
That I burned to stay alive
From the cold decrepitude
A melancholy like / on this rainy day
In the watery places of memory and emotions
I see how beauty blurs

Without you

I peer with one eye at paradise (spurned)
When everything is beautiful
Because of you,
I am sure
It is your love that makes it all
My
Shine.
My world.

A metropolis
between us glass walls, formic
art of consumption.

Eyes barren within
like landscapes of the wasteful
dead as their highways.

From Central Park bench
Dogs walk folk on jogging trail
crumbs of passersby.

Spectacles' dark shades,
Soldier, drone, still hive alone.
They storm in silence.

Window of locusts
In view of our summer fruit,
cosmic flesh so blue.

Who were you
when all their affections' malingering
mirrored only actor's guild
guide of the sly guise
while you were as open as the skies
which you scry for them
in joyous paints of hopeful hues
intermingling laughter
assumed them to be true...

Who were you?
when their packs of wolves
with sheepish fondnesses
belied fangs of cold intentions
while you were as open as the skies
out numbered and made pre-occupied
a carcass kept unmentioned
a stolen name
a life without action...

Who were you
then
is who i was now...
the patina on a crown
still as true as the gold beneath
a stronger heart
from the break now beats

But will no one come walk with me?
(none who lie and steal your name)

better yet to learn from grace
kept true
and kept face with my faith
brutal and honest
inner war with hate

but how slowly on my heart
this impasse attends
how like a fish that craves to breathe again
of such cold seas
to not depend...


who were they to play pretend?
and this is where my concern
now ends...
question unanswered and
vacant.


--------------

Oh how slowly on my heart
this impasse attends
How like Atlantis lost in the deep
crave to breathe again
of such cold seas to not depend
Oh heart of my soul ascend!
In love we live again!


*(Reclaim all of our heavens hence
patience of my goddess' kiss
reminds all time forever since arrives
All is One is Light
mother / father of the infinite
let me be your sacrifice)
Goddess how I love thee

A Toast to Heaven.
Chrysanthemums igniting
The night's colbalt skies.

****, Shlong, Johnson, Peter, Pecker/wood, don’t be a ****.

The name doesn’t fit you—fake it until it suits...

All you have are bones,
our flesh once giants, lies, dust,
my feelings extinct.

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...

And when we're 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
your star is 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 surprise to waking life's wonder
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.)

i happened Free-Zone
not to hunt
for coercion or collision
i came to begin
again, without a diet of another
no one to occupy
just myself tonight to slight
yet in the euthenics
of smokers in their alcoholic snares,
in the hotch potch laughter
of girth-guised relics
i notice you
sang-froid solution
against the shriven wall
your own tempered poison in hand
eyes teaching me
how to thaw my disregard
lips in a cruising smile
specific for my purchase
but i was here to forget
the imbrications of lies
the past life
of being bitten


still notice you noticing me
grant no one contours
contiguous to friendship,
not now
on a night of nursing
nut-hatched hurts
when i'm not searching,
i came to drown in drink
with archives of broken vows
new porcelain hearts break
each crack - a lie
each bruise and tear
cut like each cackling
of frozen, deceptive hosts
whom i allowed
assuage
my time a home


tonight i'm learned
my turn
to snick and sneer
my turn to steer the wheel...

they all want me, here
yet you are there:
smooth warning, cool leaning
against the shriven wall
solid notions of promise
which warrants a platform
and so i found myself
migrating toward self
compromise.


i happened to you, then
in your nascent nape
and in my moment of molten need
i genuflect

in prayer
for more than persuasive phantasms
rather overlapping warmth
over joyed
in the beauty of great duration
over that thing most token
defined by trusting
the truths of this emotion
but not too often spoken:
       too early to call it
       a thing
but you happened
to open my wings


L

O

V

E

Indigent / outcast
trailer trash
flotsam.
We are products of our surroundings.

Or is it upbringing
Taken / down
Far from home
If it's where the heart is...

"Worthless idiot"
She spits on me
Like her rednecks and *****
Big pimping

Her tricks
Quick to flick
Their Bics and *****
Bringing home the other
Black.

Reynolds wrap and points at the back
Hiding in the thickness
Of weeping veils
Of willows

Outside the picket fences
Just beyond Royale Park mobile
Some kind of
A Community
Missing it's gate
All the times shivoo

Since the South is clammy
Sweat shop swamps
And blistering
Hot like Gold
Coast fires / petrol dragons' breath

(She's a mockery
Of the word -- revelations
Turning
Now napkins and coasters
Tissue for ****** noses.)

Vagrant vespers
In the dark
she lets the men
Inside her double wide

Inebriated bruises
Polka dot excuses

Even in the city
It's funny
How the homeless can hide
Out in the open

Escape.

Indigent / outcast
Trailer trash
Minutiae boy

Barely half / legally life blind
And lucky to be alive
Still in search of
Some kind of

Home.

Graceful feathers' rain
Soft Springs' swift wisps arriving
Two-tailed Brothers' breeze.

1
Wake to grey morning,
April fooled us denying Spring,
thunderous storming.

Sleet and angry rain
skeins of winter falling ice
floods and flashy mud.

Down rolls the deluge
quenching Joshua trees instead
of man's thirsty head.




#2
*Above the desert skyline roils a maelstrom of foreboding clouds
every shade of sorrow, the color of every tear, vapid greys all gathered up as thunder claps and rolls as though nimbus giants were bowling. April foolishly battling within the fronts and blows / the westerly gusting breath of  brine and pine whistles fast and harshly on the song of my wind chimes. Here comes the deluge of obese drops and tiny dots of flavorless ice, sleet and rain storm to drown the light of day, April fools in showers drenched, like insects avoiding the water board kind of fate, running amok like gutter dirt and city mud. Flash flood warning: the thunder explodes from the distant hills, as the floe of rage and silt, stampedes in whirling river runs, avoid the tsunami sized kind of flood. The deathly hollow of an undertow, April showers serious moods, and fools are silent in this hush, she has duped us to have our trust... and like thunder rolls the drums of war, lovers and flora soaking seeds, wait for Spring in May will be: the blossoming of thirsty soil, but now from the vantage of this balcony, watch the maelstrom roil...

I'd rather like to celebrate His birth,

Not His ******.

I ain't a professional, but i am special-- feel me?

You are a pebble
dropped in the pond of Life, all
storms are your ripples...