A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness:
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction:
An erring lace which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher:
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbons to flow confusedly:
A winning wave (deserving note)
In the tempestuous petticoat:
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility:
Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.

I guess it was the acid
Frying your brain
You thought you'd just try it
For the thrill, start to drill
In my membrane

I must admit, I starved for it

But alas you pass on by
Leaving only footprints behind

And though I've always known
When rolling dices made of stone
To count those blessings I'll always have
So losing ain't that bad

And on this cycle goes
Keep racing on this very road
In search of ways to fill a hole
The bottomless pit of my soul

Beware this trickster, out to bewitch
She crawls into your bed and it makes you itch
Dim-lit may be my lanterns
Imagination figments
Accompany, me in my sleep
Willing suspension of disbelief

I had it coming
My snow blankets are melting
Your garden's disappointing
As are you Sir Dementor
I see now you're grey and decayed
Not worth a single cent paid
Fungi verses my bouquet
In Some Unholy War

I guess it was the acid
Frying your brain
You thought you'd just try it
For the thrill, start to drill
In my membrane

I must admit, I starved for it

But alas you pass on by
Leaving only footprints behind

And though I've always known
When rolling dices made of stone
To count those blessings I'll always have
So losing ain't that bad
And on this cycle goes
Keep racing on this very road
In search of ways to fill a hole
The bottomless pit of my soul

Well yes I know of the animal
In me a smothering towel
Bursting at the seam with fever
For an artist unobserved
A false representation
I guess a mirror reflection
Of funfair loving children

Now in my veins desire
Is spreading like wildfire
But we're dead in the water
All life left on shore
Warnings so deafening
Have broken all of our strings
Shelter from electrocuting
Of Some Unholy War

I guess it was the acid
Frying your brain
You thought you'd just try it
For the thrill, start to drill
In my membrane

I must admit, I starved for it

But alas you pass on by
Leaving only footprints behind

And though I've always known
When rolling dices made of stone
To count those blessings I'll always have
So losing ain't that bad
And on this cycle goes
Keep racing on this very road
In search of ways to fill a hole
The bottomless pit of my soul

A. G. R

ЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖ
Mystical Goddess of Night times
Queen of the caliphets
Daughters of the Caribean blue
As days did mark quarters
As lilies did spark waters
As rain lit the hydrosphere
And green fit the atmosphere
As oceans falls beckoned on MĔ
And open floors endowed the ŚĔÁŚ

And the moon thrilled a beguiling dark
And the beam filled a bewildering black
I call on the gods beneath the seas
Heed me to a wavering ŦÁĹĹ

Mystical daughters of the hereafter
I become the waters that flow endless
I become the rain that melts the patch
I become the tussles of a million ŴÁŤĔŔ

I swivel and swim through an unseen world
And when darkness falls,
I stand
I watch
From a scoring cosmos above
I render the sea blue
Glowing from an encapsulated moon
Tearing all obstacles
I am Luna
Queen of the Moon
I bewitch the night with my mesmerizing glow
And when time flips away,
Ĩ ßĔČoMĔ ŤĤĔ ŚĔÁ
     *
   ЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖЖ
   *

ĔVŃÁ-ĹÚŃÁ
ĎĔČ 11 2016©
*ÁĹĹ ŔĨĞĤŤŚ ŔĔŚĔŔVĔĎ

Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove,
Of golden sand, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.

There will the river whispering run,
Warmed by thy eyes more than the sun.
And there the enamoured fish will stay.
Begging themselves they may betray.

When wilt thou swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.

If thou, to be so seen, beest loath,
By sun or moon, thou dark’nest both;
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.

Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset
With strangling snare, or windowy net.

Let course bold hand from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest,
Or curious traitors, sleave-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes’ wandering eyes.

For thee, thou need’st no such deceit,
For thou thyself are thine own bait;
That fish that is not catched thereby,
Alas, is wiser far than I.

autumnal leaves scent your hair
weaving the reverie of stranger summers
of smoke and arboreal decay
bone-fingers, ceramic mug
shivering *** under the wool
   these septembers bewitch me,
   their wincing smile-
   how good it is
   to feel so sad.

I thought it would be more romantic than this.
I thought it would strangle me with its strangeness
Walk up to me with a sword in its oriental mouth
And bump into me,
Jolting me out of my occidental seat into the stinking dust of the gutters.
I thought the Mohammed Ali mosque would wrestle me to the ground with its shocking bare immenseness.
I thought my nostrils would burn with the assault of unnamed spice.
I thought my ears would crumble with the muezzins call at noon,
When all the dogs in Cairo enter a canine Koran reading contest.
I thought the pyramids would crush me with too much history and indifference
I thought the city of the dead would turn my gut over in its emptiness and blank windows
I thought the Nile would bewitch me and turn my blue blazer to Joseph’s coat
I thought Tuten Kamens chariot would run over me
I thought so much and I thought so much
That it brought me here where I would not be except for Cairo
For Cairo was a poetic enema
And purged some foolishness from me.
She lightened my load
And with her sister Bombay
Will always be on my cerebral medicine shelf
To take in case of cabin fever.

It’s not always *****
And glass slippers
Handsome gloved fingers impeccably asking for
Just one dance
There aren’t always fairies with good intentions
And neatly pressed dresses
Popping out from
Rose bushes while you cry to
A mother grave
Sometimes dirt under fingernails
Doesn’t come off
Sometimes you learn to live by
Snatching crusts thrown in
Hot fires so you
Reach in to hunger
And come out with scarred fingers covered in ashes
Chores are not always performed
By animated, peeping creatures
And instead you know their presence in the dark as
Whispered tails run over your ratty hem
It’s not always a fairy-tale
Sometimes you sing harshly
To the tune of a whip on your back
As the words
**** from the cinders
Ring in your ears
But sometimes clever fingers steal material
Working late into the night
And pacts made with older Magic’s  
Help you bewitch a prince so he sees
Only you
And sometimes you get to watch blood fall
On your wedding dress as your tormentors eyes
Are plucked out by winged doves
And you do feel happy
In the sunlight
Until in the dark, again
Hands run over you, whispering then
Biting like the rats
And you realize, lying back
That you have traded one form of servitude
For another
And happily-ever-after has
Only just begun.