The bells broken
And the language discerned,
Break free the chains
That hold hearts vague:

I was in a dream awoken
By a wishs crescent smile
And only the blue sun
Had made the light clear.
    I had been made for this,
Clear like voices unspoken
And I am free,
Driven from the boldness
Into the sake of hope,
For hope's sake.

I say now there is nothing
And nothing has bloomed,
The age of orion
When the blood moon rose
And men became lost,
I am,
So that you will be no more,
Lost in the drizzle of the unspoken.

Rain down on me your fire,
I am found in the light of my
Structure,
Thar which they cannot break
And i am a poet,
Nevermore in the mind
Reality is fools gold,
Taken to my chambers
Where my body lays
But my soul is free.....

Never succumb,
Your truth is the dream
That you awaken from.

This tells me I'm running
Out of titles,
The air is coming
From the north and stirring the trees.
So now you know the weather.
And well the title tells the time,
So this is the end of this
Poem, and now sports.....

Echoes in a mist of words
                                   Echoes
Through the verse laid like light
                                   The luminous
Behaviour shredding the shadows
                                    The poet
Becomes liquid in the foliage of life
                                     They cannot see
The reflectors of the inner words
                                       A poems life
Is a scattered spectacle of past apparitions
                                        The body
Of words fills in the eye's void
                                        This phrase
Is the final perception of this piece

Surround yourself with words.

At the crossroads
Where life takes a turn,
Just in from regret alley
When it starts to burn.
Begin again at the dead end,
Take a detour fall in love
And take in a best friend,
Keeping head just above
Drowning just around the bend,
Left turn,
Right,
It doesn't matter where time lends,
We end up at a choice
At the Crossroads,
We begin again.

I prayed daily
Into the notes taken from
The trapped soul:

Take me as I am
And who I become
Is ours,
I know no moon that has
Not endured your
Friendships
And alone was always a choice.

I speak poetic
Into the flesh that I cannot
But dream away....
I flow into the river's edge
And the rocks wither
As moments
Whisper eternal,
Life is a word
The love a Sonnet
And the poet lives the poem.

As one listens to the rain,
Every droplet memorized
Among the curvature of your
Earthen face,
In a silhouetted distraction
Your dress falls to the floor...

All is still,
The night arrives in your eyes,
You found me in the mist,
The mist that is a lifetime
And one night an eternity,
The murmur of birth,
The death that is the moment passing,
Inward the rain falls,

Weightless in the heavy
Earth we make our indentations
On a universally illuminating
Time,
We speak with no words,
So beautiful God unfolds and looks,
The pain of the momentary eternal,
Passing,
And then the rain.

Black soul
      Scattered night
Tearing the pain apart,
The reality awakens
Into the dream and asks,
"Who am I?"
A shadow forms.

Asleep in a bed or rain
Life sings melancholic bliss,
The sparks surrounding dark,
A flicker of moments.

Many handed thoughts
Interrogate the clarity,
Entering by manipulation,
Only the pain is real.

I soak in the ethereal
And speak in a mist,
The emptiness understands,
I return in a blood language.

Be you with me,
And I'm just frustrated
Don't mind me,
And youn dont,
Because I give my all
And it's actually what u needed.

Lost in the entrapment,
A small amount of your waters...
A sip and for the thirst
Of the Ded, truth in pieces
Float in an ocean of lies.

Masks you wear
Are all the faces that made
You hide away.
They may hate you in reflection,
But don't let that be what you
See or feel everyday.

Behind the mask
Is a cage,
Only the real can set it free.

Mask off
And all I know Is real,
I have no friends.

Today and into some deep of the dawn
I became the night,
A dense whisper when
Silence is at its loudest and
Secrets form from desparate
Lovers swollen with lust
Like the red of a stolen
Crimson moon,
And the blood into my body became
Luminosity as the places
I vagranted into thr nocturnal
Kingdoms stood still
And time tied together into a knot
And my constellation was this verse,
The dawn sees me as a dangling
Metaphor with no particular
Meaning,
Only today and into dawn
As the first birds moaned
And the worms decayed bodies,
I was not the desolation
Of the bodies of the last lines,
Instead i was freed with the rising
Sun lost in the light
Blind at the brightest
Morning and nothing was all
I could muster.

I'm just some guy who knows
Pain just like you,
Who fell in love deeply and fell
From her grace:

I am in a room filled with language,
The density of words full of memories -
Talking to them I talk to her.
      Night grows darkly
With obstinate scars on her skies,
    We have tied a destiny
In different directions,
    We end in the same destination.
You,
       Me ,
We,
     Us....
I explode like a sun on a depopulated world,
No one to witness a beautiful destruction,
     I am alone
Talking to air
       Talking to you,
Your presence is a nameless womb,
     Carrying the birth of my world,
You're missing turns in my skull,
    I cannot forget you
    The room fills with a pause;

The words take your shape,
You become the living waters,
   Daily I drink of you,
But I thirst for your fountain.
   I reach out to you,
The mist is real and you are there,
Weightless,
Tears form at my eyes.

Now you are here in these words
Navigator of language,
Piercing the syllables at every
Spoken word,
Your roots are deep in the sky,
Your love ripples in time
Like crashing waves at the life
Of my shores,
I write the fabric of the past,
Which is now an open wound,
    The echoes haunting
And dispersing sculptures of your body,
I am surrounded by language,
   Your memory a poem,
Talking to me talking to you.

In my frenzy
I hustle past myself,
Stackin so high
Its an 8x4,
The walls close in as
I serve the fiend.
His paranoia becomes mine,
I hear his kids wandering
If they are going to eat,
I eat their suffering
And put it in a dope house
Of brokenness.
I am everyday
Who dies with every dub,
Every friend that became
Bug eyed and sleepless,
Losing all he ever was
And any love he ever had,
Blaming the world,
I am their worlds.
All that sustains me is addiction,
Yours is the judgement
I feel as you read this.

What is this place I have
Become?
The question becomes a mirror,
The mirror becomes a ghost ,.
The ghost is a demon
That mirrors the man i see.

I dont stop.
I keep the night in the sun,
My Loks carry the night,
I serve with no sleep,
I sacrifice to serve,
More faithful than
The pain in my soul,
The soul a little boy
Lost with the days when
The boy lived by the hand
Of the sun.

A boy dies,
He lives in death as a martyr
Spreading wings of regret,
Requiem for my kids,
I serve a destruction
With an identical sun,
And a mirror is.....
I am,
I was,
Mirror mirror.

Though their bodies were not strangers,
They did not know each other.
She needed no storytelling,
Nor promises that would never
Reach the ears of God.
He gets up and leaves,
If she's lucky, she will be asleep
When he does,
And forgetting or remembering
A dream is never a choice.

And it is never enough,
The sun falls upon your body,
Stretching the moment
And birthing the Luna's
Prayer:

Liquid light of your
Elliptical kiss,
A thousand moons unknown
At the bend of the crescent
Thigh I lay a touch to die
Into your Resurrection;
Woman of millennial graces,
Today was born your religeon
And faith is in the way
Your eyes sparkle creating
The infant galactical....
Once and never again
I fall into your amorous
Gestures, enough to fill
The eternity of the moment.

People at the pass,
           Past people
Through a concubine of memory
           Almost insatiably
They remember.
           The shadow from light cast
On open wounds,
           A meadow of grass whistles,
The sounds of children growing
           The invisible in front of us
           Days stretch like morning awakenings,
They are in the bedroom,
           The curtain brushes violet walls,
Coffee clenches a fist in the air,
          The morning mist choking on the sun.
A stain of kisses as she remembers
          The spill of passion
Torn out from the night into a constellation
           Un named
He is walking back,
With coffee cups in hand,
Back to the night before,
         Edges of forever
As home becomes the void
         They fill out the abyss with
Memory surrounded by life
                 Home
The stab of the sacrifice
         The door is revolving
In a collapse of time
         Daily they drink of another
Looking back
                 Moving forward
Memories clear the mist......

Under the new garden
A rain falls:

And the thoughts like birth,
Drops of life on life,
The cycle and it's seasons.

And repetition is insanity,
The rain does not stop
And a flood of thoughts drown
The hope of seedlings.

Hands still fresh of earth,
The lukewarm feeling of singular
Gratitude for such a small thing,
And a rain from God;
     Why drown something so
     Wonderful that fills me?

I do not understand,
Today was a good day,
         Nostalgic and scattered
         Anguished at the sky,
         The rain stops cold,
         A realisation forms;
      
         It is the action that is
         Pleasurable, the moment
         One takes to toil in the earth,
         The rest, like the seeds,
         Like God,
         Like the rain
         Is all just part of the garden.

It wasn't a smooth journey,
Twists and turns at every corner
And there were whispered words
Of a premature death among the discord
Of his selfish persona, he wanted to
Know what it's like when you die.

Along the extreme elongated portico
Held in captivating glory of falling sun
Attached to a man sitting on sunsets
Alone in a chair with an empty coffee cup,
Dedpoet wrote his final verses:

I am not the harmonious fluke,
But the orchestrated chaos of the soul,
I flee no challenges, save life, whose teeth
Have sunken deeply as two rivals
At once, I am the coronation of effigies
Whom laughed behind their masked
Intentions, I sit on the pedestal of irony.

I strung magic words like pearls
And spoke like winged creatures through
Gentle air, both volatile strings pulled
Because the violins were in tune,
Alas, I am the curse to mine own life,
The fool who believes in love,
Both lovely and perverse,
My soul is a crystal pale glance
With moist and starry eyed conflicts,
I destroy the flower with regrets.

And now at the precious end
I gallantly provide a word of lasting torture,
Meet me at the gallows,
A sun with a court of stars
And let us fade into the light
As though into the shadows.

What are you thinking?
What are you thinking,
You kid
Who shakes between breath and rifle?

Answer with
Your disgust
In the this order:
Bullied,
Outcast,
Solace in the dark.

Let's rephrase the question
To help me understand:
Between your breath and the rifle
Are you even thinking,
Thinking while you tremble
Within 50 yards of more youth
Buried in your darkness
Remembering what was taken
From your youth,
emotionally charged
And confused more so
Than your family,
Your family whom loves
Could have ever dreamed of?

Graphite lovers
Embracing soil
Subterranean skies!

Heathen starlight
Breaking upon oceanic glares,
White top veils
Kissing blue atmospheres,
Embryonic moons
Where children sing sacred,
Womb of planets
Setting atomic borders
Upon infinite eyes:

Little lovers stranded
On Saturn's rings,
Elliptical orbit
Of the hopeless lumens,
A lonely flare meets
A comet's touch,
Gravity of the groumded mind
Wishing on dark stars,
Holy Lights
Flicker and die,
Matyrs of the Borders
Shattering ideals
And Earthen consciousness
Awakens to unify a buried grace.

And they walk a storm,
Mind's thunder and lightning,
Held down to the soil
Keeping themselves from heightening.

As though sorrow gives off
A fragrance,
They wonder alone in the masses
Like hollowed vagrants.

The morbid crusade that
Wears the grace of pain,
The crule caverns of life
With a black rose's stain.

The glacial pace of thoughts
With so little time,
Weary and tired
On the abyss they do dine.

Just bemeath chosen words
And rewrites,
There clamours a poem raw
And true,
Free of likes and critique,
Above bandwagon scociety,
There a poet can believe in
The art of the experience:

I am alive between each word,
The hand on fire
As sudden urges froze me
In the actiin of my words
To jot them down,
What captures my life like
The inspired word,
And the need to capture a moment
On paper,
Where I was is now instilled
Like the metaphor of life,
And I am one with the unspoken,
As i have stopped and
Undone.
Words pause me,
Propel me,
And I freeze in the flow
Where life happend
And i stop all things
To write it down stuck
Between the stanzas.
The poet can write life,
Rarely does the experience
Saturate the time of a writer.

The anthill erupts,
A deluge floods the Amazon
Of grass and crittery things.
There in the open wound of earth
Lies a fallen gift from the fire
Above that rains embers of fire.
A chunk of life that gives life,
Fallen from the giant walkers,
Its tube shape can feed thousands.
And the water hardens the earth,
The flood done for the day,
They begin their march upon
The gift.

A self crowned sorrow
Wears the plumaged men,
And beauty is in the momentary truth:

    The concrete jungle offers
    Dazzling constraints,
    Into the ruins of their cities
    They become broken statues
    Gnawed by thoughts.
    The sun sets for a last time
    In the lively ruins.

Hearts break, minds suffer.
A man of stone passes
A man of stone,
They unearth lucid dreams
Passing by and only wondering
What resurrection could be had
In a simple "hello".

    To each an island
    In a tower of silence,
    Their light builds
    Shadows that haunt.

They pass the lovely forms,
Green pines on a shore,
Rolling hills of oak,
The swaying wind
Kissing the sea.

     In the ruins they dwell,
     Propping high into empty skies,
     To stretch their senses
     Into the living hour:
     The truth escapes
     Their brimming cups.

Silent flattery's kiss,
Womb of lumens,
    A touch of images
Thighs of dark stars...
   Silver moon in a quarter dance,
Splice of lifetimes,
   Back arches in the luminous
Glow,
Nebulous hair,
Forest of galaxies
   In a game of light
Backdrops like Aztec hair,
Fluorescent serendipity,
   The words choked
From the thousand times
We live and feed
   Upon Andromeda's blink,
Surely to be alive
    Is to die reborn among
The dreamscape of her arms.

Beyond the quarter moon's melody,
Reminiscent of ****** passings
               The Edge deflecting certain ends,
A Look into the Child's goddess,
And the warmth from beginnings
               Like eternal lamentation of nocturnal
Dreams into sudden arms,
A cry for that crystalline
              Where time has no rapture
And The Edge seems a return,
I dive deeply and willfully

             A certain fate after interwoven years
Life I bid you.....
             A fall to be reborn.

You are the companion I speak with
     In the abyss, intimately.
In perfect spirals,
    And in the silence you are formed,
A silhouette of words draped
In dreams from the deepest dreams,
      Mistress.

        You trace a lineage
From the words of Eden
And guide my hand to forbidding hope.
      The echoes of my echoes
As my voice becomes your tongue,
      A polyhedral mirror
Reflecting a thousand embers of thought,
     Fire in the ink.

     We are alone-
Until we return to this place,
Back to this world,
Back to this house,
Back to this room,
And I am left in a tomb
With no lust for life,
I lose myself  to my flesh,
Alone in a sea of faces,
      Faces that see my naked being.

My hands open the curtains
Of yesterday,
I am lost in the scenery
Bigger than today.

And the silence between us,
You and the world,
Me and the crazy,
Chewing our nails down to
The bone
Breaking neck paranoia,
With the high so low
It bottoms us into the normal
Where nothing makes sense,
The loss of the addiction
Leaves us in the confusion
Of the world.

Or the idea of it,
Who wants to be alone?
I'm a freaking poet for God's sake,
Miserable like Bukowski
And romanticism like Neruda,
Together that makes me a hopeless romantic.
Then kick in Valentine,
Will you be mine?
How bout you or you,
No dude not you,
And love is like a berserker picking flowers
Chopping petals off with
A war ax, delicately and dreadfully.
Love, what is it?
Where is it?
And being alone don't help worth a ****,
But I know one thing,
It makes for some interesting deep
Poetry,
Though I'd rather be with someone
And in love counting the ways......

The moon carves her claw into the night,
Nothing is alive except
The fathomless infinity of darkness
Sulking in a white solitude.
      The lavished night
      Lays her hair upon
      A lonely pulsar,
      The body of silences
      Which bring ideas to life....
There is only the word
In the deep abyss of thoughts
And death is but a Nightstalker,
The sad desires envelope the lone mind
And trembles the broken heart.

The tremors of light cut away
To an absurd blackness,
The night is alive and distant,
The moon submerges
Into sapphire waters
Running in silence toward
An empty sky black.

I hide behind the little things
So the world won't find me,
If you search hard enough
You'll know what really matters
And there I will see you.

The November air brushed
Against your scarlet dress
(I get lost in it's waves just
Reminiscing about it)
   It contorts to the shape
Of your body hidden beneath
And drowns the world in stillness-
  All the world's watching you.

  The littlest thing to me
Is the doorway to the meaning
Of everything I don't think about
And that's what makes them
So very big.

The boy in me weeps,
Because you made a man.

Where is the simple hope
Of a bipolar beauty,
Failingntje hopeless hope,
Defiant of time the rejection
Of God in your goodbye,
I feel a martyr though
Having known you and sacrificing my stainless heart.
Your emptiness
Is a blank page and I feel
Like I have writers block,
And in the correlation
We become the dust of words
Unspoken,
In the silence in the sea
Waves crash on
Each other,
Setting sail the art of your
Self,
Walk away woman
The only way I know you were ever here
Because the sunsets over
The empty oceans only
Exist is the word of the
Unspoken,
Whispers of a presence,
The instable beauty you
Cursed me to love.

I move from the shadows
    To your intrinsic body:

My touch
     Dissolving
         Like the horizon,
The radiant pulses throughout
     Like scattered embers
Under celestial forests,
     Light and dark dance
Like a hymn of the solstice;
    Touch,
Naked light,
     Bodies of elliptical passion;
The light in your eyes
Makes the love we make real.

She went down the pathway
Of the quarter moon,
Its sorrow bleeding with gilded
Protection from a star's hopeful
Glance, she bled darkness
From a deep pain
And her lips like ruby petals
Sang her lamemt:

   As the grey day bloomed
   And my dreams grieved,
   I saw your eyes retracing
   Every desire I conceived.

   I heard the footsteps
   For and ending to my sorrows,
   Such a fool,
   I thought you'd stay past tomorrow.

   I put out the lanterns
   Searching for my heart's grace,
   But now that you have slithered,
   Its gone away.

    Love's virtue dead
    Hung on a thread of tears,
    I bleed out my soul
    And built walls of fear.

    The delicate red of crimson
    Fire burnt me whole,
    There was once a woman,
    But scarlet pain eats the soul.

Anger exists.

This giant mirror reflecting past.

Rarely is justice blind
When it comes to color,
And I pick up the bitter facts from
The daily reports and place them
Next to my embattled soul.
I sink deep into my chair,
Pen in hand and wonder what
The hell a brown man can write
about the black man's experience.
I conflict with my poetical asphyxia,
Life isn't all love and wonderful sorrow,
I stare at the cold reality,
I believe if i wrote about anything
Else this chair would be a grave,
He wrote about flowers they said,
He wrote about dreams they said.

But no,
Those dead men have no words,
They bare their skin and died for it,
A murderous prowl on the ebony
Children with benevolent excuses
As to why it's legal,
They laugh so hard behind closed
Doors and fist bump in secret,
Stubborn roots dictate the taught
Generational hatred,
They find fruit with their hate
And split men from color refreshing
The mirror, reflecting reflections.

And when all hell is broken loose,
A people's voice is heard
Wit windswept ears,
Like God and the first word,
We will hear it only once,
The avenging fires burn in the hearts,
Though hate with its unending roots
Creeps into the darkness
Against the atrocious scythe of ignorance,
We will remember a voice.

"Black lives exist."
Yes they do.
As does hatred
and ignorance.

For whom does this poet speak?

To emerge from the body
Is to become the soul:

Master the body
As a flame in it's newness

Watch your dreams evolve
Into a fire of desires realised

Devour the moments
As a truth of this life

Watch the children of innocence

And carve out the tree of your life
Under its shade as naked as the soul

I favored it like grandmothers
Cooking on a brisk
Sunday,
Where dream days came
Flocking like seasonal birds,
A tune played out
Like the last hymn of Psalms,
The words wear me
Like an old Winter coat,
Every syllable
I dang off beat and kiltered
The notes as lovely
As Springtime nuance,
I need no splendor of view
As long as the rich melody
That memory dangled along
I can sing like broken mandalays,
My song which does haunt
And I am grateful
I cant get it out of my head.

Taken by yesterday,
I is fragment
Then reverse the shift
And remain the same.
Before the dawms
And stolen solitudes were
Enlightened,
I saw the person
And alone I'm watching
With the other in confinement.
As is, never was,
Love one love all,
Love thyself.

Such a lonely dot.
Who left you alone to be?
Unlike the curvy question mark
Or the stiffened with excitement
Exclamation point,
Why are you alone?
Are you so plain and humble
You prefer it this way?
Perhaps you have heard it all
Become weary
And ended up this way.

An idea forms;
      We become the stillness in motion,
Between seeing and making,
     Contemplation or action,
The words cause us to act.

      We dare give eyes to the idea,
And pen to paper becomes
     A resurrection of presences,
Poetry,
      Like life writing itself,
A day becomes dateless,
     Life lights up these words,
We walk the path of inspiration,
     Truth lived and suffered ,
          Shared rage
           Shared passion,
              Shared abyss,
                 Shared love.....

In the end of the verse
The poet transfigures
Inspiration into incarnations,
Given as a sacrifice of self:

All that remains are the ghosts,
We are siblings in the void.

When they saw the first womb
Swooping to all that God had
Breathed into the Earth;
Even the angels fell
Cutting their Heavenly umbilical cord
Drifting alone and finding mortality
In an echo of the first sorrows.
    Even the angels fell
And flew among the wild Dahlia
Devastated at the temporary beauty
Of it all losing wings
And even hope with the impatience
Of a moth to life's flames;
   A final coup de Grace
With a blessed suffering of crimson
Wounds and crystalline years;
  
    Even the angels fell
And we are but men falling
Like vermilion embers in a solar
Flare of time,
Even then the angels knew
That men were wounded stars
That glimmer with such HOPE
And fade into God's eternal memory.

Where has time gone,
It is zero hour,
At the precipice of ages,
Aging and it won't stop.

I see myself younger
In the ocean's reflection
Just below, I would
Jump to him for wisdoms sake.

I am at the edge,
Where ever this might be,
Sidesteps, tip toeing,
Between yesterday and nowhere.

Pieces like scattered lumens
On black days,
Brighter than sunsets
Elongated on arched spines
Under the Saturday evening
Impression left upon
A lifetime......

Bits like kisses
On the nape where bodies
Trembled under passionate skies,
Under quarter moons
Luminous embrace
Where only life was made
By extracting the sweetest
Nectar of moments
Born in the constellation US.

Peice of me,
Peice of you,
Making life whole.

Take me as I am,
I will find myself
With a gun to survive me
And a bullet to take all the
Paranoia;
Love the other side
Take the flowers grave
And plant it on the fields
Of sorrow.
I wash my hands of you,
The other one internal:
I **** again,
Another sin, death maternal.

Take it away,
Not this life,
But that one I don't want to live
When I am forced to survive.
I don't want the gun
But it Seems to find me,
I left it in the past,
What's in front of me,
Follows behind me.

**** me,
And death becomes you.

Speak,
       Listen,
The night awakens and asks for you,
            I enter by your tongue,
We speak in nudities
    As our bodies invent another
Language.

And how I became you
Was a unanimous glory
That filled every breath
With with "Hallelujah"

And there for the saviour
Was the creation of your
Bathed light, that which birthed
The man I want to be.

I knew you from before
When our melancholic grace
Danced the beleaguered Edge
And the fall from grace wasnt
So bad,

When the pale moon danced
And passed the dark rose
Of your neck to my vampiric
Lusts, bllod lines of our intense
Passions.

You cannot see how i need you,
There would be no air
To fill the lungs of the world, as the last breath will call your name....

This is how:
And the Heavens parted
When the seductress was given
Its first light born of the
Fires in your eyes delivered
By the scorn of my regret,
Words are juat figments of thought,
But here in the poem Melissa's
Beat is adorned with Deds
Conundrum;
How can I die into you
When I am more alive
And torn from my usual pain,
The right of passage is delayed,
I cannot leave the sorrows *****,
I am Ded inside,
I destroy the beauty inside,
I am lost because U ignited
The life inside the words
And alive is having never lived.

Yes I love you.

But your reasons:
I am slave to thoughts
And i am everywhere
But never where i should be,
And in my rush i trip
Over your miracle,
How to break the curse im your
Soul with the blessed curse of
My love?

I quesyion the moon in your eyes,
The luminescent smile
That lit my way back from
The poem,
And i return only because
The poem wiill reflect
The magnitude of you.

It was death that brought me
To you.
And life is more with u in it,
Show me how to live woman,
Bevause I was Ded,
Now I cannot see past the third Heaven.
Because my eyes are only
Visions of your essence,
I want to bathe you with
My touch,
Adorn you with my kiss
A crown of them so you know
I blaspheme the world
As you are my new one.
I crave you because the hunger
Is a practical wanting, needing
Only your miracle,
I broke thee chains and declared
Myself enslaved to your every need and want
Fulfilled as the man
Only wants one woman,
The unclaimed has no calling,
So you cannot hear me.

Your reasons hurt,
They blled questions
And entertain the fool,
And for Mellissa,
A thousand times Ded,
But without you I do not
Belong here,
The world is not for me.
And before the words exalt
You, before I say
One last time i want your body
Becoming a noun on your breast, a verb on your thigh,
Every ****** a stanza...
Melissa adorned with legs on eternal
Wings falling from graces tears,
Take me Home,
You are not here for my life
But to pass me into death
For the reasons you simply cannot.

I will not face it without you.
And what else can a poem say
But only that i love you
And my soul will find you again
In the next life
Dancing with u in 122.

A scroll of the Earth
Under sky black,

I.     The tongue's first syllable,
The waters foam of crashing waves
Kissing the dusk at the edge
Of the light

II. The make love on a bed of leaves
     The moan becomes a verse,
     The lovers a legend written
     On a night of raining embers

III. A thousand touches,
      Finality's many eyes peer
      The fragility of a ******
      On the invisibly clear word

IV. Pieces of the heart
      Mended by words of the soul,
      Speak as the hour speaks,
      The moment is truth

V. There in the languages, split
     Tongued virtues, reborn in
     The words, speak the lovers,
     The only language spoken
     Is that of the silence between
      Bodies.

All along the rain road,
Stopped, like a solitude ray
Escaping the glooms grasp,
Along the ways aglow,
Evening,
Perhaps morning,
Mixed waters in the midst
Of a formless cloud,
      Colored grey or under
The brightest light,

A wandering mind
Never at its now,
     Only then can he be,
Occupancy time
And bellowed grief through
   Mists of thought,
And luminous it may,
How stars see city's night,
    His cloud follows into
The sun,

All along rain road
Slithered in presence,
A wet summer heat
Forms in the cab still,
      Rolling in a flutters drop...

I don't know the name of this....
This...empty thing inside me,
    Though its been a companion;
    Or a leech.
And in the tranquility of a curving sky,
Somehow it still finds me,
    That lone cloud hovers above me
    Drinking the light.
Eventually it will **** me
And end up in words, like here and now:
  
Tell me of the abyss inside you,
The daily grind like bees in
Your throat,
Tell me if you cry when you
Write your inner grey,
Humbly, when you look at stars
So far away,
Are your  lost hopes and dreams
With them?
I know of this truly,
Its an embodiment,
And only the Creator knows why,
And we have not penetrated the why.
   I confess to you the divine thirst
   For something to fill this hole,
   Yet were it not for this hole
   I would not know the blue
   Beside the grey,
   The light that stretches the dark,
   The smile of a moment
   Caught in forever's slim memory,
   The Him,
   The Her,
   The whitest petals from a lily
   Born out of the storm;
And we walk as the grey
And all that we do to fill-
Grey, yes somehow grey,
Between the light and the dark
We flow.

Like a perfect sun
Burned into the fresh reddened
Broiled until the skin
Of the words become
A fierce friction
Of echoes and passing voices

I am on fire....

Alive in the dark
And the light keeps me squinting
Hopefully that the shadow
Will encompass my company.

Take that which is the same,
Hurdled into misunderstood
Constraints and free
The minutes from my
Concepts of momentary heights.

(I tasted her lips, lights out)

I spiral inward,
The inside awakens
And I remembered being
With everyone,
Here alone.