Romantic Roses
I have given out plenty
My last one turned black

Singing birds sit
on thin tree limbs
that fracture the heavens
while a white streak
seeks to sheath
itself in the
turquoise sky.

She sheathed her sword
inside my chest
from the middle
slightly to my left
and left heavy metal
to mar my fragile flesh.

An aching bubble,
broken spot of blood
puddled from my *******
into the mud.

This was the death
of my love.
For such a violent
reaction
was more than enough
to prove to me
I could never be
humanity’s
favorite ****.

I look beyond the black vastness
Of the infinite
that spreads out before me.
My eyes are closed
and I know
that the solid world
of reality
waits past my eyelids.
However, celestial explosions
of white, black, and green
flow through the darkness
that envelopes me.
I am sightless
but sometimes
as I breathe
I find my way
halfway between
the waking world
and the visions in my dreams.
Slippery stones
and water that gleams,
saran wrapped
potato beings
are strange portraits
of this unconscious scene.
It is the breath that carries me
as I float slightly
above my body.
It is the silence and solitude
that was forced upon me
by an angry and violent
human being.
Perhaps, it was the first steps
Of a ten year old boy
On his way to find
the inner peace
that still eludes me.
Or, maybe, it is
just a faulty memory
that deceives me.

Does heaven have a place
for this pock marked
rebel angel’s face?

The city is a jungle.
Streets run like
ravaged rivers
polluted by strange people,
plastic cups,
unread newspapers,
and other pieces of clutter.

The cruel king crow
cawed at the awed
cod fish cad.

Foolish feathered fiend
fawned and preened
as he walked the
cool cat scene,
while his fishy friend
stopped to bend
and tie his
loose shoelaces
up again.

Meanwhile
not even
one tenth of a mile
down this road
a feline ****
snuck up
and jack slapped
a fat cat
*** hat that
was hassling
his sister Jaguar.

The streets howled
As pigs prowled,
stressed and tense
strangers vented
misdirected anger
at random passersby,
like one unsuspecting
fly by bird guy
who was running on
a caffeine high.

Then there is me,
observing this city,
dumb jack ***
with a fat ***,
who thinks he
understands
what he sees.

The clown in me
sees the mirror man’s
suffering
and camouflages his pain
into puns.
The jokester runs
fast away
from the truth of today.
He plays
with symbols
to say
that I am not ok
but lets laugh
anyway.

She is a pretty woman
with a delightful mind
strong and intriguing.
I’d like the time
to absorb the wisdom
that I might find
behind those dangerous eyes.

The water looks like a bubble
small enough for ants to carry
while ensnaring teeny tiny Ellenya,
which is very scary for her.

Her screams are smaller than fleas.
Her pleas are lighter than an atom,
but no can hear her.
No one comes near her.
Her small stature
does not match
her elegance and kind nature.

I’d beg you be careful
where you step
but she’s barely a spec
that will be swallowed
by some random ant.

morn's open fold
displayed a golden sunlight
morn's open fold
where lucent beams did beam so bold
upon the sky's blue parchment sight
a picture of dawn's entrance bright
morn's open fold