Mutual destruction,
    ultimately assured
      by complicit lovers
   who pursue duplicity

A jaundiced adaptation
    of fillers raucous threats

attempts obsolete mimicking
   in a conspicuous pomposity
     of disfigured reckonings  

slipped us the tongue of your
    ostentatious audacity
mid judgmental manifestations

Disengaged, as our eyes grew dim
     ' neath the masquerade
            of multiplex duplicity


**who the ******* do you think you are?

aromatic coffee awakens senses
   midst the gestured warmth of radiant
      smiles's 'tween morning brew,
reverently paused to catch
    the awe inspiring  poignancy
               of sunrise's exhilaration,
whilst cozily wrapped in the delightful unfurl
   of captivating poetry's skillful delectation
    a rising ritual begun many blue moons afore,
  tempting consciousness, feeding soulfulness
    enlightening sensibilities as it
        enriches the day's appreciation
               'pon the keen awareness of poets,
tempests from all niches of the world
   coming together amid upheavals and serenity,
ceremoniously dubbed fierce confirmations
      of words expressly borne, communing the
         artfully spirited of resourceful artisans,
     procuring special collective bonds that
               only poesy can wholly dictate,
they look upon us as enigmas
  rather strange breed of puzzling characters,
     as this inexplicable endeavor
        escapes their stifled perceptions
         of conduit's musing reasonable facsimile,
we're merely cognitive passages for
    experiences on common ground
       in realizations of all-too-human foibles
          eccentricities, yearnings and fortitude,
released deliverance of  potpourri
   serving up inky joy beyond expression,
    intention's distinction deciphering
      reflections in meditative affirmations,
breadth of unrestrained beholden visions
   conjured notions of paramount significance
       wherein lies evidence of life's burnt offerings,
beginnings and endings of hearts' indulgences
     wept in resolute  celebrations of existence

                *as only a poet could discernibly translate

The passionate propensity
   of waxing moons' passages,
I crave your poetry
    as the air I breathe,
vital spirit aches within intention
    hungering the  blissed taste
       of essential Neruda -
midst the significance of
  rose and topaz
    arrows of wildflowers,
whence your own  scripted
   inclinations unfurl
     searing 'neath my flesh,
   rendering me speechless
      'tween ***** sighs
   I surrender in the exhale
      of a thousand blazing suns

Hungered for a taste
  of your elixir's essence,
drunken inhalations
   of your poetry
a splendiferous whirl
 of time & space 'tween
darkly scented moons
    and sun's adoration,
blithe starry nights
amidst meditative new
dawn's effervesce,
 spirited of the heart,
gleaned in the soul,
yearnings of another
  chapter's paradise
universal experiences
etched of hourglass sand,
 written upon endlessly
    chimerical verses
wildflower gardens drenched
    of dandelion's plum wine
swooning under a
hypnotic scripted spell,
intoxicating power
of unchained symphonies
dancing amongst skies'
released euphoria
 resonating in a song's
   reprised melodies,
breathlessness of delirium's
  celestial pauses
  in vaporous breezes'
  unfurling undulation,
captivated by rhythmic
  destiny reverberating in
     *****' pleasurable calling
  quenched of sacred
     offering's quell
transcending earthly
   persuasions' rhyme,
let me lick the nectar from
   your  poesy's  insatiable  lips,
sweet mercy's healing
   captured in rapturous
   surrender's reawakening ~

Je veux que vous tous,

tu me manques*



Ce que vous manquez de moi?

graduated *** laude
with a PhD in madness,
practitioner of your
  own philosophy as
    a harbinger of doom,
tales of darkness where
the deck is always stacked,
what's the sense of light
   to a harsh night
or spring's flourish
   to winter's brashness,
you don't need to be
      a rocket scientist
    to diagnose absurdity

We sat aloft a dune
   peering over the ocean,
waves mesmerizing
  our inner turmoil,
grainy surf dimensions
    cut into psyche,
voices turned hazy
midst broiling sun
  washed back with
   salt water tears,
there was no lighthouse
  to guide the way
  nor save disparate crests  
no words reverberated the sound,
    just the floundering of
      gritty restless emotions
that once were blissed horizons
   before moon lost its balance
     to relentless torrential currents
      of neglectful destruction,
   drowning in ambiguous undertows

Utterly enchanted 'neath
  mesmerizing constellations,
as an entranced blue moon
    swoons over sparkling
           celestial diamonds,
cello's were eloquently playing
  serenading starry stratospheres  
     within an endearing melody
           and milky ways of poetry,
simultaneously syncopating
   strumming pizzicato heartstrings,
tuning our harmonious passages
      of rhythm and rhyme 'pon
apricot mist sunset horizons &
   seraphic skies rendered of
          lapis lazuli sunrise grandeur

Right before the **** upsurge
   trotted in the midst of ecstasy - -

    an unleashed charlie horse,

      hurled us unbridled asunder

Midnight's haze
  tempting luminous eyes,
reminiscence unveiled in
  the misty dew of a
  kinder predilection,
beguiled under silken
    guise of gratification,
affection's contemplation
      delving a timeless
       memoir's gaze
  of infinite possibilities,
scripted upon burnished
    sky's reflections
gently unraveling
   a love note's knot
carved in your
  persuasive penchant,
souvenirs spoken of vital
   heart's poetry unfurled
 breathed in smoky
     vapors semblance,
held you skintight
    'pon my breast,
knowingly heaving in
    sighful surrender
exhaling a bygone
   rendezvous's indulgence

He delivered a seething harangue
           with the greatest of ease

There were shades of tranquility
    aching 'neath civilization's cry,
still blood was shed amid glorified
  borders of battlefield's convoluted calling,
each magnified footprint pooled crimson
   filled of ideologue's disenchantment
     midst revolutions of ill-chosen power,
       marching to the drumbeat of fool's gold

Upon a sweet zephyr
     whirled a scent,
something so familiar
   midst that breeze,
'twas like warm apple pie
   sitting amid a windowsill
wafting delectable
   reminiscence of long ago,
children's laughter
   full of caramel & pepper,
petunias, summer rain
      and hot cayenne spice
all delightfully blissed
    in a blast of fragrant air's
momentously fresh nostalgia

She meekly chased after
nonexistent moonbeams
  in rose fashioned pipe
       dreamt illusions,
as visual stimuli to
        rock her existence
of inklings' stark impressions
  inciting some exertion
       in her bland universe,
she was ever so ordinarily dull
even her reflection in the
    deepest sapphire seas,  
  appeared as drab dishwater
she lived in a world of her
   own fabricated deception
still, she wondered why every
   impaled consequence was an
   arranged shade of washed-out gray

They say the grass is greener
On the other side
Which makes me wonder what color grass they see
When they look at mine

People are never satisfied
with their token hue,
gardens perceive many views 'neath blue moons
yet still seek to plant their own rose colored seeds


But with the hand of seed comes a heart in need
To plant where they will thrive
And when we look at our lives deep
We see a parched land much too dry


Upgrading new playgrounds 'tween picket transplants
only proves to drain emotional fence posts,
there's no satisfaction in elevation's turf ventures
proof grows amuck the dark sod of every plot perused

Trump's next speech - -

**We the people,
aside of me
believe in order
to convince
a perfect union
only the rich
deserve to survive,
will give each and
every citizen
fifty bucks if they
don't let Latinos in

You spoke adamantly of gentle courage
     and sharing spring's flourished nectar,
the swooning rhythm of swaying trees
   and the easeful breezes that flow
     'tween endearment's sensibilities,
misty moonbows 'neath dusk's stormy skies
     lavender sunsets midst rosy horizons,
affectation surging amid life's turmoils
     wallowing in self indulgence &
the harmony of olive branch surrender
    and thrumming heart strings of patience,
it was then I comprehended, darkness doesn't
   last a lifetime when lit by love's fortitude

The irony of writing poetry,
  when life's a comic book...

Fill my glass
  of vintage
    pleasures,
  top it til the
bubbly overflows,
   as memoirs
    & recollections
    effervesce
     beyond lucid
         drunkenness,
   hungover midst
       an endless
         toasting of
            intoxicated
               sensibilities

There's a lunatic in my mirror.

Papier-mâché bliss,
wrapped of wafer-thin
  promises midst kisses,
glued together with
    yesterday's adhesive,
fallen as separate pieces
   of wayward glances &
   capricious charades razing
     death do us part illusions
   in finale's flimsy tissue shrouds

What be more grandiose than poetry,

     expound at your own discretion,

   bottle sunshine, save it in a jar,

    tie an affectionate knot, spread it around

     flood desert mirages with flowing spirits,

speaks kindly and murderously about love,

  can tempt winds to uncoil temptation's gist

****** upon or written asunder desperation

    relentless in its seizing of human behavior,

magnifying moonbeams or star's decimation

    perfumed magnolias to winter's cruelty,

  call of the wild midst sweetness of fresh rhubarb pie,

infinitely vast in its incalculable grasp of predication,

  beyond limitless infrastructures 'neath fancied significance

He placed wildflowers
    in her hair,**
             *for the last time

Poet took a grandiose leap of faith,
   amid a big swig of moonbeams
   dabbling toes beyond starry galaxies
Milky Way spun in translations
    Pluto still looked perplexed,
Big Dipper gave a smart **** grimace
    wondering what the hell was
   going on 'neath the stratosphere
   when human beings can't keep
       their heads above ambiguous clouds
            feet  firmly planted on ground,
delving lofty heaven's bliss
     escaping the wrath of hell's fire,
  aggrandizing endless poesy that
absorbs sparks of a universal desire
        never phasing sun's obstinance,
   but, if you believe in poetry
      there's no telling where
        boundless skies will surrender**

...and the man in the moon tilted on his axis in a
    backward's spiral and unabashedly winked

Linens scented of

last night's rendezvous,

  still wafting midst

            reticent moments,

cognac and aromatic

   candlelight burning 'neath

      surreptitious breaths,

  as we deciphered

    sultry shadow's seduction

              midst clandestine poetry

His belly full up

    of castigation,

she could finally

      shed her tears

'neath thundering

     sleeplessness

'til the giant was

       once again roused,

    to commence forthwith

       consummating

          another imperfect storm

Life thawed

  mid temperate

      ice crystals

  'neath throe's

    reckoned awakening,

spring enveloped

     dragonflies

its wings tattooed

    'pon nature,

the lake reflected

a softer side

  contemplating

    a gentler zephyr,

condensation filled

  the atmosphere, her

   clear tears saturating

    resurrected skies,

vapors misting on

   the horizon

  amidst forgiveness

     of flawed sunrises

Chambord recollections,
   exhaling smoky vapors,
wisps of  Madagascar aromatics
midst a French Château dream,
  dipped in honeysuckle reminisces
  of cardamom spice and the pungent
zest of once 'neath a midnight legend

Your love is like skydiving,
   an unnerving thought,
breathless & intoxicating
  elevations beyond exhilarating,
  as it transforms life's panorama
    nothing seemed ever the same,
         after the thrill of the fall

Her perfumed essence
  still fragrances the air
         in her absence

evermore eyes so bright
they could pierce starlight,
a twinkling wonderment
     of an infectious smile,
the ultimate sentiment
   'pon a captivated heart
  in a tender child's
    earnest devotion of
       unyielding adoration

You're like a poetic ***** den
       when life gets chaotic

Your lackadaisical
       apathy towards
    life's intention
        could melt the sun

What is imagination, but life's
   longing an impossible dream,
a tickling of inner cravings
  as the voice of splendor,
wherewithal's purpose
flourished in veritable endeavors
    of stylistic appropriations,
yearning amidst clouded vapors
  dispersing recognition's
     declaration of id's odyssey,
an idea in transformation
  that which awakens
   substantial sustenance
        nourishing spirit's nature,
  a psychic boon, abstruse or surreal
       motivating individuality's
            creative impulses
           differentiating experience's
       uniqueness mid an ultimate
                  mind blowing instinctive force

Life is much
like bread,
some prefer
that  pre-sliced
was already invented,
               *others like to
                              make their
                                      own cut above

Her breath was
   poetically zoetic,
     so ethereal ~
        she could fly

A swashbuckler
who sharpened
    his sword
upon unkind
     poetic words

Hopelessly entranced
      by the dance of poetry,
              and vice versa

Euphoric Sunday morning,
      fluff blissful, feathery pillows -
         still resonating the
               scent of night
        beyond supernova's
             transcendent certainty,
   whence gods were called
       upon by name,
            reverberating
               over
                   and over
                        again

The only cure for mood poisoning,
             is writing more poetry.

Fell heal over heads
          in love with a poet,
  he's mostly a rhyme schemer
       likes Poe and his dark Raven,
  in actuality,  I'd fancy him more if
    he were like Pablo Neruda, but I digress
I'm much accurately fashioned after Emily Dickinson
        chasing heaven's June bugs toing and froing,
we'd meet at a perfectly superfluous coffee shop
    he'll be murmuring elegiac pentameter
I'm simply looking to devour precious words,
    we'd argue about abstract destinations,  
            straight forward persuasions and
               premonitions of wayward ink allusions,
some days I want to claw mine own eyes out
               amid all that nonsensical alliteration
  others, I want to rip out embellishments
                   of his black heart's magnification,
he mutters tumult under his breath,
     states he's abundantly sickly tired of all my
         fanatical froufroutant  flourished fantasies,
albeit, we're mild mannered artistes
         of overstatement and simplification
               thus, we continue laying it on thickly
I, with my hyperbolic cuppa tea and honey,
       he's all brass tacks, no nonsense black coffee
ultimately, we reservedly seek gratification,
      envisioning who functionally makes it first
to a finished line of manifestations's publication,
           in eternity's poetic intentions and beyond

It was like a
nuclear explosion
the day vision
caught fire,  
atoms were fusing
  and reverberating
titillated skies were
  in accordance,
the force of power
    by which poetry
       is reckoned,
eyes full of mist
heart ground to grist
at least 1000 lonely
   teardrops kissed
mind overflowing
with notions impossible
then it occurred to me,
   words are unstoppable -
irrepressible as
  hot steam locomotives
   and star combustion,
  waging a crusade 'pon
fire breathing dragons
'tween undulating cloudbursts
       of empyrean's ' stardust
amidst the conformation
       of an unrestrained utopia

The versification in your poetic rhythm
        pales my composition's conflagration

Indifference is the sad unspoken
   purgatory of an apathetic world