hearts bought and sold on whimsy
dark secrets screamed aloud
resonate in empty heart chambers
dislodging logic
as ripples shift sense to passion

sold for a song
bought for practice
eyes open, heart shut
heart open, eyes shut
bubbling cauldrons
casting spells
deeper, deeper, deeper down
darkness blinds normality
and bends reality

let go/ hold on
tighter, until hands weaken
watching shadows of self
chasing shadows of yesterday
fear or excitement
aroused or afraid

enchanting eyes in navy winter
trust a stranger and lose yourself
trust yourself and lose a connection
tied in musky fog
to the inside of another
chained to that which claimed you
for nothing more than cupidity

1339

A Bee his burnished Carriage
Drove boldly to a Rose—
Combinedly alighting—
Himself—his Carriage was—
The Rose received his visit
With frank tranquillity
Withholding not a Crescent
To his Cupidity—
Their Moment consummated—
Remained for him—to flee—
Remained for her—of rapture
But the humility.

While I pretty much opined for this impeachment
my fellow Americans voted for this guy and they could be right
I’ve been wrong before, stuck as we are with a system
that generates some perplexful leaders, democracy being the worst form
      of government—
except for all the others.
Anyone can be president, that’s been proven time and time again.
Wars can start for no discernible reason other than
radical purity, avarice, cupidity, gluttony, rapacity, even affluenza—
meanwhile life goes on outside all around you
perhaps you identify as Jewish, Latino, Muslim, Indian or Filipino
asexual, cybersexual, somasexual, hypersexual, homosexual, pentasexual
it doesn’t really matter, nothing **** matter matters, matter
content of life (serious, love it) hate death for the hell of it
to see what it’s like inside the heart of darkness.

Not that I accept their god, their void, I accepted humanity as a natural
      part of nature
demisexual, downsexual, ecosexual, Eurosexual, eversexual, exsexual,
extrasexual, femtosexual, Francosexual, geosexual, gigasexual,
Grecosexual, Indosexual, intersexual, kilosexual, macrosexual,
malsexual, megasexual, metasexual, microsexual, missexual,
medisexual, mocksexual, monosexual, muchsexual, multisexual,
mustsexual, nearsexual, neosexual, nonsexual, oftsexual,
omnisexual, oversexual, pansexual, parasexual, partsexual,
photosexual, polysexual, postsexual, presexual, pseudosexual,
psychosexual, quasisexual, rentasexual, selfsexual, semisexual,
Sinosexual, subsexual, supersexual, telesexual, terrasexual,
ubersexual, ursexual, ultrasexual, undersexual, vicesexual,
weresexual, wikisexual, zoosexual.
When I did that I had to pay the rent and get a job, too.

cupidity is a dizzy thorn smoldering in the pith your heart
where happiness is frail and mighty and all joy a thing so vast
you can hardly keep up with how happy, but can’t stop now,
so kisses rain down from simple days lounging on couches
with adorable dimples the shape of your afternoon *******
and all is the kingdom of  vulnerability
wrapped in the impossible
happening
NOW,

I beckon thee, to come visit me, in the garden of virility.
Where men are carved from your darkest fantasy;
and the women spun from your forbidden cupidity.

Where carnal knowledge is given freely;
and is taken just as quickly.

Oh dearest, infatuation;
given your love and lust till they blur and swirl.

Good sir.
Oh, Sweet madam.
Lost in the down wards spiral of your avidity.

I beckon thee, to play with me, in our hectic world of make believe.
Where women are carved out of false trickery;
and the men spun from wicked forgery.
Where  nothing seems to be, what it is.

The garden of falsity.

A happy ending,
existent only in our minds?
Or is it possible that one day,
one refreshingly glorious day,
it can join our world of memories,
and stand alongside our courage.
Squeezed in-between faith and hope,
only to simply wave farewell to our troubles?
Can one swish of a broom,
or a sharing of a smile,
the stroke of a brush,
the birth of a child,
end it all?
Will fireworks erupt,
is a crowd going to cheer?
Will we know when?
Will we know how?
Are the birds going to sing?
Celebrate with chirps and tweets?
Will we all learn to get along?
To co-exist and to belong?
Will this victory last?
Or will it crumble?
Can we blame anyone for cupidity?
Or is it just plain stupidity?
Sometimes it all seems like a game,
with a pause button and a controller included.
Other days, the pain is more vibrant than ever,
radiating and penetrating through your body,
physically, emotionally, mentally.
Our grief and loss on some days seems to tip the scale,
outweighing love and belonging significantly.
“Why us?” I hear them say,
Sometimes, there is no answer.
Scarred women, defeated men, and fretful children cannot bear to speak.
On those days, the breeze is left to answer the question that tints the air.
Some days, especially just after a demolition, the question seems to pull a trigger,
and cries and moans and sighs accompany the summer breeze.
But on the really bad days, there is more than that,
there are shouts and yells, insults and threats, slowly starting then spreading like wildfire.
There is no mercy on those days, only thoughts of revenge circle the air.
But one day,
perhaps one day,
someone will break the silence,
and answer the question,
perhaps they will say: “Because we are strong, we can get over this”,
or they will quote an inspirational person,
and then we will all applaud,
and our worries will leave us,
will carry themselves across the sea.
Can our dreams just be fragments of our imagination?
Pointless thoughts?
An abomination?
Sometimes,
just after a bomb goes off,
or perhaps when a cousin or two is killed,
I will lose hope,
my mind left astray.
“But you’re alive… you’ve been spared…” a wise voice inside me whispers,
but it’s too late because now anger replaces loss of hope,
and it surfaces to my skin.
The taste of defeat is almost palpable.
On those days,
I feel great loneliness.
I mourn and grieve,
and so does the rest,
but they don’t offer sympathy,
no condolences or warm-hearted wishes.
On those days, you can stare them right in the eye,
And you can tell.
Their eyes,
they’ve lost their depth.
Their life, they’ve lost it.
There is nothing left.
Nothing at all.
So you decide that they’re dead.
These people are the living dead.
And you think, why not just **** themselves now and save the pain later?
On those days,
Your focus isn’t right, and you’ll sometimes say things aloud,
and their eyes, for just a moment
they’ll seem to bounce with joy,
as if you’ve granted them a wish or something,
as if they’d never considered there ever being an escape.
And so they do.
Look what you’ve done now, stupid. Look at them! JUST LOOK AT THEM NOW!
But you fight the urge to follow their paths,
and you stare at them for a long time.
And then something catches your attention,
a spark,
and you notice their eyes.
And it seems they’d been alive this whole time.
They’ve just been to cowardly to show it.
And, the people, a second or two before their last breath,
They’ll regret it,
They’ll see that life truly is a blessing,
it is joyous, it is happy.
It might not be perfect, but it’s something.
Something to work on, something to do.
It’s better than just turning and tossing in a grave, at least.

I followed the lead,
Of my sinister caretaker
I was taught to serve my greed.
And we lived with men of no stature!

That was when my people, brown
Just free from the clutches of blond folk
We spoiled many men, who wore an unseen crown!
For our avarice grew of their prosperity’s scent.

We hooligans ruled the fear,
Of the humble and the righteous
They knew they lived in no ****** shire.
Our bare sight, rouse them nervous!

We revered no civil code
Vices and hatred our nub,
We belonged to no family, no abode.
No handcuffs strong enough to help curb!

Such was our thing, our cupidity,
To which none dare rise against!
Our victims seldom showed their agility,
For grief we inflict is a poor choice to endure.

The honest fell on my grime feet,
But how long will justice fail to prevail?
My hired judges failed to sow my ‘righteous’ seed,
And I was pushed into the chasm of evil to wail!

My life until death now lay waste,
These insidious walls seldom let me rest!
My wretched soul yearns to run away in haste
The very thought of freedom, a precious zest.

The days at first I numbered for a lost cause.
They made me hope, the very part I often stole,
From the just by virtue of my flaws!
At night I sit waiting for the sun to rise.

Those rays of light seem now as precious gold.
No prison mate was a heart of resort.
As a shoulder to cry upon and hold!
I yearn for a wise consort.

A woman like a mother, I wish.
Though a dream, I least have this liberty,
I feel blessed to have it to relish.
But I remind myself to repent for eternity.

I am reduced to a number,
I dread to now count!
Seldom have I got to be in a deep slumber,
My nightmares bark like a hound.

I stare out of the window,
As repentance flows out of my eyes
A woman came searching for me that fine day
The woman of a just man I once slay!

She didn’t have revenge in her mind
But pity and mercy like the viscous honey!
She bought sweets, I met someone kind!
I felt mortified of having robbed her man.

She claimed to instill goodness in me,
That there would be no disparity amongst us
If she choose to be passive and loathe!
That day after years I felt a bird sang to me of joy.

She preached to me of gods,
Of the same virtue but different form!
I prayed to them, one day a lord,
And soon watching her made my heart race!

For she was the only woman I knew
The only one I fell for,
A forbidden love, I fancy!
Soon she departed to her pristine abode
And with her left an eternal grace!

To this widow I owe my soul,
Her goodness makes me hope.
That I can be righteous and commit no foul
And this was a dream I sowed passion for.

I would stare out of the window
To see the birds soar high.
No mountain stopped their flight,
Nor a tree tempted them to rest.

Then when I heard of death’s call
And that my endowments lay unperformed
Her words proved to be true,
Hope surpasses the depth of every woe.

There lay a little of life to live,
A respite offered for a promise.
And they let me see the world,
All its grandeur, all its bounty!

It seemed nothing like yesterday
For they had taken from me
The chunk I should’ve valued most!
The world had risen in time,
And I was left with none.

But it felt akin to waking up
Like from a deep slumber,
In a place not known to me!
And every priceless breath I now took,
Like the first breath after coma,
The courtesy of the widow!

An angel chief--the precentor of heaven's
Unequalled choir--silvery and dulcet was his
Voice afore the throne of God and his fold;
Lovely and fair his appearance was to behold.
Hearken to him as he the King's celestial
Hymns leads that give adoration to his especial
Majesty, making melody along with the angels
Whole, while praising Jehovah in awe dwells.

But how soon would this angel change and be
Clothed no more in chaste grace and glory,  
Rather in pride and pity! I'm more than ye all
Who in paradise live. I'm the foremost of all
Beings. Who're archangels Michael and Gabriel
Compare to me, Lucifer, the only greatest earl?
I the highest and the best-- sovereign being--
That towers above Christ the Son begotten;
I'll even God usurp! I'm the most powerful
Here; the morn star that's blindly beautiful!

Haughtiness so into him entered as cupidity into
Judas. And began he to say things profane to
God his Creator, the Maker of all. And thus
War there was between the defector's caucus
And the Lord's host. Michael, who's the principal
Of warfare wherefore Lucifer--the evil cardinal--
Engaged. How fierce beyond a running pen
Was that battle unspeakble in God's holy haven
Seen betwixt the faithful and the rebel!
Yet good unflinching conquered the uprising evil
And cast Satan straightaway down unto the earth
With one-third of the angels from heaven's berth.