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 Mar 2022
Anton Angelino
I can't turn wistful, reminiscing about the times I played with cherubs in rose gardens
turn mud- and blood-stained linens white
no matter how long I try
no matter how hard I rub
Can't wash off the impurity or the vile serpent slithering up my left profile
cause innocence was lost.

In those gardens
my hands bled from thorns
a dozen bruises on my knees from the dozen hundred times
I fell but stood right up.

My friend lit up my first cigarette
she told me I didn't know how to smoke
I couldn't inhale the poison into my lungs
no matter how long I tried.

My closest circle was corrupted with alcohol
spawned a couple drinking parties, liquor flowing down our throats like a cascade
and I was getting good at it.

We were driven to manic places
youth was glamorous like a firefly-lit sky
I was always off to the races
and when we got dropped off by Villa Gemini

I doubted for the first time if this was what I wanted.

Not gold hoops with matching wine cups
on white yachts sailing down the Styx
I changed my ways
rubbed myself clean
leaving scars that will remind me
of all the crazy things I've been
and now when I crave something magnificent
I lean forward for a big kiss
Shadowed by a lemon tree
that comes with nothing evil
Caressing the hair of yours and conquering my ego.
Poem #14 off "Rainbow Arches Supporting The Wonderland"
 Mar 2022
Anton Angelino
I don't wanna have to be poetic in love no more
only choose the citrus shampoo and perfume
for you My Love.
I don't wanna have to celebrate every month anniversary
but I will never forget March 27 - that's when I realized how much you mean to me.

Won't push your name outta my dictionary
or your face outta my head.

I don't wanna have to outdo myself every night
I can't always be your guardian
But I can work a lullaby

Instead of writing ballads - I cook for you
pretty much breathe for you
I do it all idealistically and thorough
it's just that..
I don't get poetic in love no more.

I make your bed for you,
but don't open the door.

I cooked pretzels for your birthday,
instead of gifting you a rose.

I tell you everything I feel,
but nothing comes in prose.

Sometimes I think
the reason I cling to you
is because you haven't had the time to hurt me yet.
But I want to believe
straightforward that
You are just the one for me.
Poem #15 off "Rainbow Arches Supporting The Wonderland"
 Mar 2022
Anton Angelino
Let me stay for one more minute
ponder over crashing waves
listen to the songs of seagulls
watch my suns drown in blueness.

Just the cool wind and soft darkness
that I bathe in every night
but as soon as I hear thunder
I run like an animal in fright.

             ...and I ruin it all...

All the storms I've managed to hush
enrage like new, no longer dormant
my pieces of art scream from dusty shelves
vintage clocks spinning like carousels
even your photograph on my nightstand
which used to be my private moon
reflects no light upon my hopeful face.
The candles I put out seemed dead forever
but they all turn into one blazing flame
and they start a chain reaction
until my surroundings are living fire
and it's finally ashes.

        ...I'm frightened...

I weep on a total desolation
my pens dry out of ink
the ground lingers arid
the land I haunt is bare
no trees
no water
no seas
no life except for me
everything is burned here
to scorch including me.

          ...I'm frightened...

Bear witness to a beacon
shooting straight out of my heart
I watch it give birth to a tree
majestically waving - I realize there's wind!
I lay on a bed of butterflies
lifting me carefully off the grass that's green!
and so I fly to the sea
where everything started.

  ...I'm no longer frightened...

Contemplating yet another minute
waves crash still within my earshot
seagulls play their new symphony
though I feel something isn't right.

Nothing pretty lasts forever - life taught me
My suns will grow so big
the trees will combust
the oceans evaporate
the seagulls migrate
and the burden that comes within... it may outgrow me.

                                        ...I'm panicking...

I rifle through my nightstand and grab my refilled pen
Cause an avalanche of feelings to run onto my paper
Like I wanna churn out poems as machine gun bullets
Like it's better to burn out than to fade away.
Poem #16 and the final poem off "Rainbow Arches Supporting The Wonderland"

— The End —