Cleopatra, like Caesar my heart concedes And even though it is only one sided The hardest quest would be to get you out of my head Always dedicated to all your needs
Infamy I have bestowed upon myself The fire burning the hearth of my soul, never dimming I would give my self to you for your trimming A romance that you would leave on a shelf
Cleopatra you are the most pure, the most precious For your happiness I would play the vicious To be your obsession I would be cottonweed
Wondering if I have truly spoke with you Could it be that I mirrored myself unto you Veritably it is not love but only greed
A sprinkle of blue sparkle off the lapis lazuli sky. A throw of stars from the full moon night. We will take in abundance while rowing the waves once in the River Nile.
Hear! The crave of oars breaching the shore. Reaching out and close to the pyramid foundation. That’s scientia is pure rigid yet so open loose. One dozen milky ways can hover in rhythm over this stony knot!
That doesn’t mean the Mintaka stars will give up their shares at all They will sit on the top. Without the pyramid moving a step from the true north.
Between this relative sublunary and over the moon mural if and when one spaces up. The silent Moon takes a pause humming the prehistoric lullabies. With a patch of the blue sky and a starry sprinkle from the night. Maybe then we will take a break in behind the closed doors of the great pyramid!
A poem from my upcoming book Qun: Love is Above Reason
a scab turn punk to martyr like disease was the art for some future refinement to paint with a sponge in whether or not a cape would subside in Ayer with hare of mine
Her freckles are the stars fallen as dust pressed upon her cheek Her eyes carry the universe which the stars descended from and somehow they are not so distant
Black holes will engulf my existence I beg to her, make me nothing. But the eclipse brings me to life and Osiris is delighted this eve.
