A young boy had just dove off the roof of his house, the moment I caught sight of two maple trees wrestling with each other in the orange mists of a teenage sneeze, in which their bed of flowers caught the boys fall, in the warm sheets prepared by the nurse disguised as this autumn breeze.

There were of course hallucinations played out in the mind while on September stilts!

o rose
you must be tired of bad manners
o rose
you must like that the trains come often
o rose
you must wonder why people move so fast
o rose
you must enjoy the naked girls falling from the trees
o rose
the trains are always coming fast, competing with cheetahs
o rose
that’s how it’s always been

Let beauty influence the architecture of thought

Greetings from the city
Glass jaguars move through the sadness
There are cracked porcelain memories

All of this dreaming came first with a silent knock upon the glass. At least one of the girls had pretended to. Three redheads pressed each other’s bodies up in the corner, huddling as if they were some team about to spring their paws across some morality clause.

One time she threw a stone through rainbow colored glass
It was the color red that made the most difference
Before she reached the house, she ran across a freeway of tigers
Her sister brought her a pillow just in case
The spill of inspiration
Years later they would call her a vandal, a feather-vandal

It is simply now a choice to feel naked. She feels it’s appropriate now to undress for the public which will soon follow her lead. Into the night, they will tear apart the conventional moral creed with ritual dance steps resembling tiger speeds!

Disappointment in the sky
She painted her hair purple with answers
And turned to her lover saying
“are you sad?”

“I wouldn’t call it sadness” he said
“just certain waves crashing certain rocks”
Ocean of thoughts
Uncertainty of tears

Sparkling philosophy on the sand

Our moon lovely! Yours is a precious sight over the dark curtains of midnight. A landscape for fair-skinned beauties, drinking tea while musing smoothly. I dream of typical legs in your light. You have made me a gentleman of mischief. The elegant one in pawing astronomy. On your play-string of stars, I dangle pulling down a universe with kitten jaws.

Pink walls outline the hormonal oceans
To peel back the secrets of wet
flesh against swimming pool corners
through waves of swelling libido
that crack the senses against the reefs of water-love

Love charges through walls
Don’t ever think it doesn’t
And leaves a fire mist

And if I go down in flames, let me go down in a freedom reflecting upon your laws a ferocious flower, staining the moment that you gave birth to hypocrisy!

He walked down the road
Thinking of her
And closed his eyes with sweet song

I need to turn these days
into attractive dust
moments left abandoning
a selfish recreation
of secrets employing
their own role in
a landscape of desperate longing

like an angel whose inconsistent stability
will disappoint the
courts of categorical righteousness
tossing into the wind of verdicts
a rebel leaf that will
someday find its way
into the bedrooms of anxious jurors
showing once and for all
the impermanence of contentment

Naked gymnastics in the trees
The town is concerned
A drop of sunlight in your hands
A golden ruling from the court

We can manage a dull afternoon
When punished lilies
Imitate the army of rebel waters
Sneaking away on tiptoe
From an empire of lawful soil

Watchful of flood signals
We will wait for a jealous wasp
To peel back the detonators
For springboard demolitions
Fancied on limp petals

While soldiers of nectar’s plight
Talk over plans with bees
We see an enemy of discreet magnitude
Inside us, a showering of infernal degrees
Our hearts soaked in criminal teas

Libraries explode
Books fly through windows
Knowledge splattered all over the street

While on a beach, when she kissed me with the urgency of a sensitive poison, I could not help but scatter across the shore-lengths, the households of my heart, allowing room only for the remedy, I looked beyond her and forgot to make room for her smile, that went unnoticed fading as a shadow on my face.

I could appreciate her today. I had been watching those golden gestures compliment the frame of elegant houses. And for moments alone on a reflective sidewalk, I had forgotten what my face looked like. Yes, she was a whistler of pastel importance. A type of language only significant when the island pores of sensitive humans bleed open shamelessly and without counsel for their tears. The afternoons have a style all to their own, and I remember glass.

Sunshine trance
Waits for boys in a sorority dance

While on a beach, when she kissed me with the urgency of a sensitive poison, I could not help but scatter across the shore-lengths, the households of my heart, allowing room only for the remedy, I looked beyond her and forgot to make room for her smile, that went unnoticed fading as a shadow on my face.

I walked across the street and met a cheetah queen
I asked her the time
And she said it was half past the hour of proposals
Youth married to night
Adventure honeymoon
Celebration of falling kisses

Woman is wearing fuschia through the air
She leaves a palette of philosophy
Everyone grab your brushes
The sky is dripping paint

Are you anxious, my dear evening? Are you not my closest friend? (Where is your cousin, my memory?) Can you not wait until that one afternoon, when we will pounce upon the horizon, like cats in heat, and tear the sun apart limb from limb? We will leave its sensitive shine to sweat upon pathetic days no more! Yes, the evening is a villain I’m proud to call my friend. Her ways allow much more room in the playground for mischievous  lovers, than those dull afternoons spent thinking about breathing. Where is your cousin, my memory? She has served a type of convulsively appreciative use for my feelings and continues to parade around my daydream swing set. Nonetheless, she has always remained a spectral participant in my life, pregnant with regret, and punctures my comfortableness with the sweetest of stings, leaving a taste with me she knows I’ll never forget.

Gymnastics over train tracks in the daylight
Smearing lipstick all over the afternoon
Strangers caught red handed kissing

Inside the day, convulsions sweep me within the circular tide, whose currents endlessly root themselves along the shores of disappointing sentiments. Abandoning a singular precision, in using reverie with a blade to carve out the jewels with splendid contour, fashioned after the exquisite role of the past, I have failed to attract the elegant throats around which I stalk the beautiful endlessly.

I know of pink corners in the mind: Forest of sweet perfumes, whose travelers lend a hand to the ******* of sunset and its nervous mapping of amateur stars. There is a moment’s history in the certainty of salivating worlds: An odyssey for lovers who play cards at night and whose ideas for strategic foreplay are used like stilts. Hovering over a table, soaked with invisible juices, they are found flirting with each other’s secret personalities—heirs to the hormonal vibration of wet thoughts.

Sunshine girlfriend
Held her hand through the blonde waves of the afternoon
Daytime explosion
The warmth of her clothing
It’s sensual sunlight

Amusement park love crash
Blowing kisses through roller coaster rides
The wind blows their hair around and satin crushes
Holding hands sparks afternoon warmth
The evening descends and sheds stars around them

I am part of a secret race of bedfellows who, while draped in the rose linen of sleep, lash out at the dawn, a suffering enterprise, with a multitude of blinks, signaling revenge to the moon, my ally, which in the sized light of the sun, we can no longer see, yet, waiting until it sneaks up on the horizon, like an uninvited guest, our dreams will conspire in unison, like an army of winged blades, decapitating it in its own shine, leaving its bleeding fluid to sweat upon a flower, we will let it put butterflies to sleep!

Jack knew the party was the next night, but after imagining a few possible scenes, with the apathetic laziness in which he did everything else, he closed his eyes toward a dreamless sleep

Every night I lay into a pink sleep, which is the secrecy of her arm’s love for me. There is a solace for me in her eyes… if only I could live in their reflections forever! A landscape of exploding glass-works, that trickle wet stories down her beloved face. Into my dreams, they will fire an inscription of dazzling intimacies, in soft-blue storms of light. I want to run away with her down private roads, that glisten with the unrest of heartbeats.

Paul pretended to blow smoke through his bedroom window.
So far dreaming of Sara his only future
Happy together despite a whirlwind of suspicion
Paul’s parents worried she was a pretty distraction
to his academic standing
Her parents felt there was no stability
to her future while with him

People throw daytime tantrums
Rudeness rains down on us
Protective panther princess
Spins her own way
Men slide riches toward her to no avail

Streaked by the hours of moonlight
She sweats upon a rooftop cradle
A slow showering of heated liberation
As I swing along the fragile nesting of ivory branches
Stretched under the magnificence of her stability

And let her mouth, that soft vessel
Divide the gentle tide with a smile
That casts upon the crest of evening water
Two halves of a seashell

And let our embrace, soften the cool air
That parades around us, shedding secrets from our hair
And let me hold that hand that trembles
When the evening undresses us
With a yellow wink

While on a beach, when she kissed me with the urgency of a sensitive poison, I could not help but scatter across the shore-lengths, the households of my heart, allowing room only for the remedy, I looked beyond her and forgot to make room for her smile, that went unnoticed fading as a shadow on my face.

Leopard ladies will soon often prance upon men whose hearts are held together by single straws, by which a fragile connection has been made. Their skintight vestments hug them more tightly than any lover would ever dare attempt. Such intimate efforts are not beyond them but have been made afraid of by wicked arm’s length faces, dotted by the scorn of wild races soon to be held in trance-ridden spaces.

For me such a rare prize it is
To inhale pure night
With warm sweet winds
And then nocturnal bliss is his!

Her soft neck philosophy
Teaching a class of wonders
Raise your hand in the moonlight
Throwing intelligence around the room
Catching kisses in the water

A gang of soft banana clouds levitate above the room while clothing themselves in yellow mists. They spill in blonde waves splashing on the neck a tropical flavored consciousness! Young, female patrons can’t help but throw their pretty heads back into pools of fruit sweat. Their boyfriends having tasted too much of this winter couldn’t help themselves but dive into heated waters of this rainbow pheromone.

Loves roll off waves
Lives devoted
Crown of kisses
Soft sand a carpet of desires
They are dream-born

let’s imagine summer girls in golden clothes
o how many of them dressed up like soft fires!
Black streets will melt under a trace of warm steps
While passersby offer sun-buttons and light-drenched smiles

Today, in lovely flames, many females now flooded
Celebrating in slow strides, the yellow-dances
Wandering aimlessly with wild winds in their hair,
A choir of sunbeams off their tongues flash the air
While, singing they begin a most tranquil street-fair

Butterflies fly through her hair
Carrying letters from the sky
Pretty language let the stars compete

Along the pavement, still wet from her tears
I glide mouth open collecting these tiny spheres
A window open, while locks of hair part revealing a face
Pale!, with all the signs of a saddening race

Out-of-control pace I turn back just in that space
Of slippery steps which quicken the race
In consoling her, a lovely face!, if only
A spiral blue staircase would appear at the curtain-base

She combs pink planets through her hair
Galaxy girlfriend face
It’s space travel there and everywhere
Saturn question and comet care
Strangers tread lightly

There used to be a patio of
Splendid greens
A beautiful afternoon fragrant
In a glass of charming fluid
We wondered how the fruit of
Tasteless shadows could scream
An unforgettable song
We watched a blonde cackle
Reform the faith of ****** stars
From a roof-top, wondering
If we were wrong

Gigantic web of ceremonies
Capture all intrusions entering
This historic yard, except the
Murderer of this yellow wedding
He has asked to be here
And we have thus allowed
This person to behave under
The mark of a crescent-bedfellow

The moon his lover is drenched
In proud criminal glaze of evenings
And we have said our last good-byes

She pours perfume through the waves
And gets ready for her sea-date
Rebels against her parent’s teenage warning
Crash of youth in the ocean
No one sees the splashing
And kissing in the sea

Look her night costume
Silk kissing in the moonlight
Wave with fishnet gloves

Alone at the beach
Playing with ***** and solutions
A seahorse bites your finger
Questions unanswered

Pink tights and black boots
Waiting for a mystery
Windswept questions lie