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 Dec 2014
wordvango
a bean or a pod having motivation inside recreating
life more energetic and clever than any parent
then get ate or flushed down ten million toilets
infiltrate society with words because it is in sewers
sanguine and quixotic indifferent
a breath is toxic to me
I venture Walter Mitty like fantasies theorize
tomorrow when I forgot yesterday,
introduce substances to discourse entertainers
abstract the emphasis transcendentally
blue-sky enterprises authentically created  as I
turn around and cry.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
A volt or amperage an ampule injected not grounded
a spasm or epiphany a reckoning
encompasses
I melt voltaically into
warmth and jolt
concurrently metered
by hair standing on ends
legs arms nethers
convulsing
like two phased
polarity
not grounded!
I short out,
positively!
 Dec 2014
wordvango
I enjoy the faintest touch
of my lips on your brow in the morn'
            Your angel sleeping face deserves
to know how I creep out tiptoe
              on my way to work
remembering in all my fiber
          all energized
last night, and the night before,
           and every moment since we met
nights and mornings
         and every
gentle kiss.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
windowed
is four paws
is purrs,
  written
in dna,
   all I am
allergic to.
  I think humanity,
at times, too,
    is allergic to
love and peace,
   until, I bring roses
home, and my
    horse of a dog
knocks me down
    licks my face,
and I cuddle up
   with my *****
purring.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
beauty this vision a blessed
blossom on a wispy stem
swaying
glows in the dawn glares in the dusk,
beauty is blindness,
love is mortal,
I lust
for beauty and
blessed
ephemeral
meaning.

by
us.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
Many compositions for all men,
once were found  near granite stones.
Many songs
were tied to Rose Hill Cemetery.

Then, travels on a Wind Bag, ended
on the Farm, and became famous.
Wrote Ramblin' and got higher then ever seen for
Southern men who encompassed black and white,
so, did never exemplify the South,but two returned,
because of motorbikes,
and now lie side by side:
recomposing,
at Rose Hill Cemetery.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
I fly
       through the branches avoiding
                                                     their reach
indiscriminately
       like a long-tailed magpie
                                                      I reach
into ******* and pull out hearts
          in small broken pieces to feather
                                                        my nest.

— The End —