On days like this
cool, with little winds
desert birds forage for sticks
they build nests perched in cactus
some build green in palo verde trees
always I think of baby birds in spring
hatchlings, the fledglings that fly
I travel far beyond the noise of towns
watch the movement of cooling clouds
the roundness of rain upon the ground
the grey banked scurrilous skies
of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm
daisies that close, cold amid the stones
beneath where snakes and lizards go
slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros
and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

Dawn
light just seeping
through slatted blinds
robins begin
their morning song
at full-blast volume
I am awake, listening

hoping you made it
through the wilderness
and are sitting on the deck
with your morning coffee
listening to robins too
or loons calling on the lake
watching the sun rise

you said you wanted
to be lying naked
next to the woman
you love
when you're ninety
I hope to be the one
in your arms

perhaps completely deaf
to the robin's cacophony
and a little
worse for wear
but still loving
each other
just the same.

If we were monkeys in the zoo-
we could make each other laugh-
in between eating and grooming
but grooming has become something else-
something dark-
and the bars on our cage would break our hearts-
in the end-
but Bananas would taste the same
and laughter would still be-
an uncontrollable release.

i'd rather be as cold and manipulative
and a calculator of all sorts
like augustus,
than innocently violent and equally
deluded as such violence deem
equal a nero's "competent" exercise
of it: to encapsulate all masculinity,
rid the demand of scientific inquiry
with blinding d.n.a. and testosterone
structures on the page...
that **** will not float like a ship
on the sea of blood i'll pour into the
breaths walking near Galilee
when your visibility changes from
pen and microscope to sword and telescope
to see eager mars ask permission
of jupiter to transverse via earth too reach venus,
and likewise venus, to transverse toward
mars via earth, hopeful to bring the sun's
illumination with mercury, but the illuminating
message being left on the moon, enters
mars' domain with ignorance, and so
mars likewise retorts to his former act of warring,
and venus in turn with promise of the sun's message
leaves all illumination on earth's moon and
speaks to mars the shadowy truth, rather than:
a. said b. said c. was born (c. being the god
of appeasement, the best we had was crucified,
we need to look elsewhere, because this so called
god of appeasement turned out to be narcissus
in disguise, russian / greek orthodox iconoclasm).

A Tawny Owl in peerless voice , resonating within lonely , hazy Moorland .. The very breath of Scotland whispers , drawn upon Highland reserves , her intrepid Moon tints a solitary Rise , painted by the hand of St. Gabriel , under the protection of Heavens dominion ..

But there are some who dream not as others dream,
whose is not as others see.
Gaze through strangers eyes,
such are not what they seem by day,
but rule the world by night.

Carved doors opened in their dreams,
“Welcome lustful ladies, re rasped,
Allow me pleeeese to introduce my immortal garden,
I await your beautiful eyeeees
His handsome hand sweeping for their gaze to follow

The Hadein orchestra played, amberic melodies pierced the air,
****** red skies hung low overhead,
A burning path of crystals afire,
His voice poetic,
Come, come ladies into the dreams on a delicious night path,

─ And so they sleep charmed in dreams

His garden sea emerged as though surging with a slow thick tide,
Hot perfumed metallic air hung as ladies giggled,
Endless jewels of weeping eyes looked to he,
─ Pausing to gaze upon a flower, his smile vulpine
His guests lowered fluttering eyes.

Flowers quivered ***** flesh petals glistened,
beaded with sweet blood sparkles,
At each center a lone mortal eye gazed back,
A sea of stem throats slashed,
forever screaming for his pleasure

Thorn ******* sewn with sinew wept blood,
Endlessly, faithfully dripping returning,
below to the blood wine feeding his garden art
Moaning, they the melodies of hades,
And the night masters sermon begins,

─ “Ladies, beautiful ladies allow me to introduce my immortal garden
Seek you me in your garden of dreams”


© 2016 A Sol Poet Arnay Rumens

Swollen, hanging
on outside corner
of just one eye,
it dangled diamond like.
Offsetting an emerald gaze,
that tear held on
and it was impossible
to know if it
would, could, should
ever fall.

Rays of light from
late afternoon
cracked as if glass,
splintering her
reflections. Her
juicy tear was
holding the whole
story back.

I would not wish
to pull it from her,
dab it away. It was,
forever now,
part of her beauty,
facetted upon her face.

I have held
softly pulsing
newborn heartbeat fluttering
breath of love, dying
arc of a life, trying
not to cling
too tightly
to anything

I have touched
directly to my tongue
felt the jolt
spark my lips
so pure
crystallized
I became
undone

I have fought
with abundant faith
despite knowing
the human continuum
feckless tide
love or hate
maybe it really is
up to fate

I have radiated
divine conductor
electric soul
it flows in me
it flows in you
we are all
pure energy
clean-burning fuel

tonight, something a little
stronger than poison
runs through my veins

it festers, intangible,
pretty like belladonna,
sweet like nightshade

it sways in the wind
of my lungs, it has it's
own tune you see.

i know it's a plague,
like him, we've all
been infected once.

tonight, it's angry,
venomous,
gardens of deep rose

and happiness returns
to being but a distant,
wavering sun.