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.

Today I sit with my coffee
And I like life right now,
      I can feel it.
I almost touched my own soul
When the brew came out to perfection,
      And my tongue did not burn.

Today I sit at my table in deep contemplation
  And in these momentary boxers
I sit as I gulp down life's immensity,
So much and so little!
I buried myself in this moment,
And in this moment I have become
Everything and a sip.

     I write the infinity of a cup,
After all it is great coffee,
With my beloved own pen
And paper stating that a poem is born,
And repeating this gesture,
I take another sip,
The poem writes itself,
Always and never!

I'd like to immortalise this cup,
And the millennium will march,
This organism's had enough,
     Anxiety kicks in,
So much life in a cup!

i have said enough prayers
so i'm done praying
no one really hears
or cares what i'm saying

i have fought enough fears
now i'm done fighting
all the wasted years
wrongs not worth righting

i've had enough regrets
no more ***** for giving
the heart never forgets
but i must go on living

It's okay.
I shed a few tears,
but it'll be okay.
At least you know.

- E.I

Everyone will only
get ******
with your burdens
'cause they
don't like to be
that toxic,
like you.
lucky.
welcome to the world.

I awaken to primitive forces,
My hand at her hip,
Like two flawed crystals
With eager flashes
With no grace in morning ***.

The longings drained,
And a hangover settles over noon.

The most uncomfortable peculiarities
Sit in like an unwanted listener,
Like a vagrant flower she eats
Whatever I threw on the table.

And I never knew my ex this well,
Still at least I knew her last name.

Inflated situation with irony
And absurdities between adults
Who for all adulthood are acting
Like nervous teens,
There's to be no encore ***.

"I'll call you"

Was that a question?
I wonder,
I close my door like the saddest clown.

If only the world weren't so big,
All these souls would pass by my
Door:

And through my window cruising
I see a magnolia flowered sorrow,
The kind with moon beam eyes
And darkens your heart when you
See it;

Why is she in pain,
All alone in the grey.....
She has a wall surrounding her
Until the last day of hope
And a turbulent river encircling her.

Ah, but her steps are like the dove's,
Tranquil,
For gentlemen's sake I have to offer my
Hand holding hers like fragile balloon
Set off in the air, getting too close
To the sun and the continuity of the light,
So bright, it might burst in my hand.

She only needs some money,
I tell her to get in,
I'll buy her a meal.
She enters with grief,
The kind like in this poem,
But from her gentle eyes
The nocturnal sense is born
And the stars with her eyes.
I am taken,
What sweetness in her voice,
She asks me for a lemonade
As something familiar to herself,
The longing she has missed.

Why doesn't she get off the streets,
What holds her here?
I see the shake in her arm,
The tiredness of her body,
But she does not want to be saved.

I know her goodness
Had more than a conversation within,
That a life wished for better dreams
Haunts like dawn and dusk,
Touching her like a ghost.

"I need my fix"

I giver her ten dollars.
What horrid reality she lives in,
She walks away,
Turns back and offers a sentiment,
" I needed this meal, and
Thanks for just being nice"

Her hope is barefoot and barren,
Who will save her life?
I only know soon I will
Be a voice, an echo in her soul.

Pale, bloodless forms, untouchable forms
On beams of whiteness, snow capped
Forms, vague translucent forms,
A sacrificed vision....

Forms of a prophetic body, virginal
Bright innocence in the fire of Saints,
Wandering the silences drenched
In illusion of slow agonizing temptation,

Incandescent harmonies like fallen angels,
The color of blood moons and patron gods,
Suspension of memories in the hesitant
Afterglows of the soothing sight, silent....

Crying the psalms of ecstatic angels
In sensual malices  fertilizing the innocence
In a subtle cascade of last moments,
The light just over the darkness, dawn's mystery

Infinite forms, ethereality of sobbing sounds,
The ideal form of death and birth,
The dream is an exalted stanza,
Sterilization of the mind, exotic forms....

Requiem of the private sufferings,
Form of the lonely charade,
Magnifying the essential need of the other,
Form of chastity for the *****...

The the golden pollen fall upon the dance,
The dancing form of a black swan,
Luminosities under the lunar glistening,
Deeply, subtlety....

Primal forms, animalistic in the body
When the aura is sensually appealing
Gilded upon her ******* and curvature
Like rolling hills under a storm,

Forms like crystalline glory under
Said light with a court of stars,
Vibration of light currents flawed by
Peculiar prints of the flesh

Forms of courage, gusts of love,
Crimson depths of the soul,
Forms like vanity into the black dress,
Conquest of lustrous desires.....

Forms like yours, forms like mine
Bleeding into foreign rivers,
The Dream is a fantastical whirlpool,
The form is confusing and terrifying and
Wonderful....