I thought you hung the moon in night skies,
Polishing the stars on my skin,
A welkin soul a rose loves rain

In the sacred grove immortal chestnuts scattered at your base,
O rapture of hearts thirsty, lucid you proclaimed nectar redder wines,
Bitter was his blood weeping wine from branches high

Every rose word shed immortal tears, intoxicated I lay upon his soil,
Madness sweet devotion yearned in my bitter blood wine,
O dismay such tears did rain

Seared my flesh naked, stabbed stupid with thorns,
Whitherward I was to vanish once more, a parched rose,
O’er perfumed mounds his children breathe

Talent he mused, mental is the artistic bleeder,
Born in one single nights kiss,
Bitten you swallowed thy stars, his throaty laugh

Drown you clever ***** in amaranthine dreams,
He rode through my soul filled veins,
Repulsed as I sin, umbriferous from loves bright sun

Learn he played, his song be bound in mortal pain,
Live thee without thy rain,
A statue weeps rosy wine,

~ For Judas dances in bleeding rain ~


© Arnay Rumens /A Sol Poet N 2014

The bells ring over the Anno,
   Midnight, the long, long chime;
Here in the quivering darkness
   I am afraid of time.

Oh, gray bells cease your tolling,
   Time takes too much from me,
And yet to rock and river
   He gives eternity.

We are the tin men
never the thin men
we walk in lines
within confines
never to weep
seek emortal sleep

I am not a boy
I am a tumor
I am an angler in the deep darkness waiting
I am enclosed, claustrophobic, and suffocating
extrapolating, because
I am a calculator and I want all the solutions to your infinity
I am a sine function perfectly predictable
I am a cancer
I am a twig in your forest, and the words in your thesaurus
that bore us because
I am a scholar
I am a hunter
I am an architect through the desert sands that demands
and understands because
I am a boy.
And I am not a boy, because
I am a tumor.

I'm scared I'll just end up in the pile of
"One of those"
That you always speak of.