Take an ancient iPod
(click wheel!),
splash a few words
on Craigslist,
wait a short while
and it transforms
into fifty dollars
which morph into
a bottle of fine
Tennessee whiskey,
a haircut, cigarettes
and change.

Economists call these
transactions.
Alchemists called them
transmutations.

I call them proof
that miracles
still exist
in the ordinary.

I will now
have a drink,
light a smoke
and luxuriate
in just what is...

   ~mce

Oh joyous noise!

Slam the door
loud as you like,

the old Finn
is awake again.

Let language
like rivers,
only deeper, flow
in torrents
upon sidewalks
of sound.

We are hereby
delivered from
the tyranny
of definition.

Measure your moons
in red pantaloons.

Let fat pigeons
feed breadless
old men
in lost parks.

Clarity is but
self-abuse.

how hathfanespanned
most high heaven
the skysign of
soft advertisement!

Where mystery is
find mirth also.

Steer by
your ears.

Oh joyous noise!

Come on now,
make some...

When my poems flirts, it can find a way to get into your heart
As it ****** you my audiences it’s becomes imagery and symbolism
The bouncer of the entry way, but somehow waltzes its way into the mind of the nonbelievers: activating the rhythm and rhymes

The language of emotions felt like a prickly face, against my long neck,
Every emotion has its place: like the smell of the bourbon breath
which make my pulse leap and my body tremble
"To dream of lust is to dream of me it whispered, so ecstatic!
Effortlessly, I tried so not to give in to the poetic teaser,

*I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird,
flying even to the clouds of heaven.
I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me,
even though there is no cause for grief,
and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air. What am I?

I reach for an empty bride
deep unto myself
through glass mirror walls, serenading waves
and, palm in palm
we ballet the yellow skies,
mesmerizing the earth.
An intense love affair this...

As
Boundaries
Create
Distance
Egos
Fluctuate,
Giving
Hollow
Insec­urities
Justification,
Killing
Likely
Manifestations,
Nullifying
­Our
Purest
Qualities,
Reducing
Satisfactions
That
Usually
Vary,
W­elcoming
Xenial
Yin-yang
Zealously

POETRY*

It's never easy
to write poetry
as assumed by many
often a poem is a mystery

where's the poetic- river source?
how many miles must its waters cross?
the poet finds himself only
at the river-end where springs his best poetry.