#rises
our place
where dandelions peek
up from the edges of the sidewalk
and between the cracks;
there was a shivering moment
before the pink moon slid behind
the edge of the world and
everything was lit by sunlight.
you were there again,
the pine tree
the moon
the sun
the end of the world and the earth and us-
the old christmas ornament
we hung from the top of the random pine tree
two years ago
still there
when milo and i climbed it.
everything is irreversible
everything is exactly what it seems
Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 11:38 PM UTC
he rises with words in his unwashed mouth,
mouth, is unwashed, tongue tastes dregs, bits
of morsels of his past, some good, some bad,
some tastes of places, of women he has loved,
sweetness of sorrow, dregs of regret, and all a
jumbled, tumbled, intertwined, clinging combo
of nations, his~stories …a mashup of a mashup’s
smashup
he tries to separate them, this admixture, to better
recall, but the sacrificial fire lit, the ember-members
are too burnt, indistinguishable and can’t find the
vive entre les differences…
South of france, tahiti, the one he loved in cities,
Toronto, L.A., and Portland, and the communes
in Asia, but tries harder but it’s no longer possible
to separate the essences and the similarities same,
and a great sadness is what he recovers when runs
his tongue across the roof of his mouth, the roof of
his memory, the roots of his…being…his unbecoming
he rises to a glorious day, where he is can’t be sure,
who he is with, certainly not, the why, but he recovers
some pants and the idea of a fresh start seeps creepy in,
but by the time both legs dressed, his mind’s eye wanders
to a new sunrise and old template of temptations. . .
Jul 28, 2024
Jul 28, 2024 at 7:30 AM UTC
The sun~poem also rises every evening…
*A.P.U (as per usual):
this testimony~phrase tilts me sideways,
to relieve the condition, needy to be righted
one must expel the belly kicking seedling,
looking to be outed as a full fledged tree,
a poem planted, a gatherer of insects,
giving shade, perhaps shedding fruit
the sun bids adieu, self~same~centrifuge
of our solar system, is indeed alway rising
somewhere, though the light of our naked
eyes weak, incapable of trajectory bending,
to follow its course’s curvature, nonetheless,
we know it but struggle to believe just as we
struggle to complete, compare, and compose
replanted words in your heart, words that trigger,
are the notions inherent, of a center, rarely eclipsed,
that never ceases to offer up nouveau hope in each
of the days, a placenta to fret you blood and oxygen,
once purposed, discarded into darkness,*
b u t
**the words rise again, offering what you seek,
diurnally, need, to find within them, for my child,
is now
our child**…
May 12, 2024
May 12, 2024 at 9:22 AM UTC
This word called love—
let’s dig deep
into the soil of it
and plant a seed,
of trust.
If only for a little while,
bear witness.
Give no fear.
Smell the dirt.
Feel all of it,
the gritty,
and the grand.
Hear the earth’s confession.
Take the pain inside
and grab its hand.
Gather up every piece—
the chaos and the stardust,
and smile.
The sun rises again.
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 9:49 PM UTC
The sun does not set
When euphoria rises
In our little world
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 9:10 AM UTC
Roses spices and onions skins off
Richie ride me back home
there's nowhere to hide from your love.
~~~~~
I thought I could find a place not to think of you for one day, so I went to the kitchen for a soup there was nothing to eat but pasta sauce and there you were
in front of me up in the spices
I had to use in place of meat on bone for boiling a soup.
Heating up battled water added cento tomato and the sauce
all kinds of spices; parsely real sea salts garlic pepper a pinch of taco spice wild cilantro, a garlic squized and cloves
(no basil)
cayene pepper did the magic
lemon juice added the final punch for my Mexican soup;
added a few granes bazmati rice found, added a white onion slice and blessed as I felt
"I cried me a river for you" and
The White Cliffs of Dover
songs came to mind to console
me as I broke shrinking down
the stinking onion was me
and noone to share my soup
I turned stove top off to go
wipe face off and
entering the bedroom I tripped
knees on the red floor unconsolable crying.
Yes the room was filled with
roses wild and roses red!
and again you made my day.
I felt so blessed to have
held so many of your treasures
in arms to see my hands half full with roses
and half full with bittersweet spices beheld.
Upon my bed a heart was carved
inscribed in tiny little
red rose buds and purple hearts
in your words "I love you"
I craweled to reach the bed careful not to disturb the million roses nor bleed feet with their thurns as they layed artisticly everywhere room full of roses,
I wept there caressed by your roses spices and songs
hugged all night long.
by insomnia bug
Oh please my darling Old Richie "ride me back home."
there's nowhere to hide
from your love.
~~~~~~~~~
Karijinbba-03/2020.
Copy Rights
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 7:59 AM UTC
Morning light rises
yawning and stretching its way
above the skyline.
Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 8:05 PM UTC
the new dawn rises
a glimpse of what is to come
her smile awakens
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 10:44 AM UTC
He rises from his bitter bed,
With thoughts of sadness in his head,
He idolises being dead.
Facing the day with never-ending dread.
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 9:08 AM UTC
The way, she did to me
Is the way I did to her
The way, where hearts broke
The way,
I will never return to
The way where
Sun used to long last
The days spent in the past
Still, when thy feeling arises
My day neither sets, nor rises
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 7:36 AM UTC
Sunsets every eve
Sunrises every morn
Day splashes light in dark
Seeds peep out in hurry
Birds tweet in joy-full song
Departure needs forgiveness
Arrival bows in norm
O’ my Lord!
Bless me
---------------
Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC
Rosé makes me romantic
I guess
Because it's pink
And it makes me tipsy
Like love should
I guess...
And it reminds me of
The wilting pink roses
On my coffee table
Cute love
I guess...
It becomes less than cute
Because
I bought those flowers
For myself
Oh, by the way.
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 11:34 PM UTC
So I follow you.
Like I have been for the past three nights.
Only this time you walk toward where I want to take you.
My sanctuary awaits your screams along side the others.
You seem to be oblivious of me.
My moment has arrived.
Not a soul watching but me.
When you turn the corner is when I will make the grab, the hook, the capture that quenches this thirsty urge!
As we turn the corner I find that you are no longer there!
I also find that I have been captured instead!
All along I was the one being followed!
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
Life is cruel and unkind
Boiled over with wasted time
Count the hands of moments lost,
tick by seconds, minutes tossed
Temperature rises and hits the mark
A hundred degrees turns too stark
Bed of sand and heat wave sear
Weigh it down with constant fear
Mercury rises an internal kind
Cuts right through a melted mind
Turn it off, burn the fool
Anger mounts then its cool
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
it was the
summer
of 13
when a city
consumed in a
Cronut crazed
heat wave
amped
the tenderloin
slicing the underbelly
of Hell's Kitchen
packing meat for
Russian oligarchs
pouring fistfuls
of petrol rubles
down the
thirsty gullets
of glutinous
developers
their distended
bellies welling
with aching
avarice
from an
extended
stay at an
All You Can Eat
zero interest
smorgasbord
courtesy of
Uncle Sam’s Diner
somewhere off the
West End
getting fat
on the land
reclaimed
and rebuilt
on the dust
and detritus
of an expired
Great Society
Bloomie's metropolis
rising on the rubble
of razed neighborhoods....
the vertical leaps
shooting ever upward
the heady windows
framing portraits
of endless replication
offering the amenities
of the vain comfort
found in ghettos of
soulless high rises
and the billowing
gray perspective
of blanched out
street cafes
brewing $9 lattes
and big box
boutiques busy
busking the
latest rage
of sweat repelling
yoga mats and
wearable apps
America’s Mayor
Giuliani paved the way
he arrested all
the squeegee men
confiscated their Windex
dumped it down
the sewers and filled all
vacancies at Rikers
a year after Sandy
rolled up the Hudson
breaching the banks
of West Street
licking the streets
clean of urban
flotsam the
surging boom
bloomed
Bloomie bankrolled
a red carpet
for his global
fraternity of
plutocrats
unleashing a
tsunami of
shekels
washing away
the fading
memories of
Captain Sully’s
cool headed
lunch pail
heroism proving
that 727’s can
walk on water
was now passe
Lou Reed
left town
the wild side
monetized by
the belching
banality of
Urban Hipsters
millennial
babes in toy land
embarked on an endless
shopping spree
where credit limits
never expire and
giddy narcissism
greased with entitlement
orders up room service
as the next course
in this endless
movable feast
Music Selection
Philip Glass
The Hours
9/8/13
NYC
jbm
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
I hope the rain stops and the leaves change from green to red for you.
I hope the fog fades and the sun comes out to shine down on you.
I hope when the morning rises and you're tired eyes awake you feel peace...
I hope the night stays a little longer and you find that sense of adventure again.
I hope your eyes stop hurting and your lips stop cracking from the days you've been crying.
I hope when the morning rises you feel love again.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 2:37 AM UTC
Walking slowly in the dead of night, hoping to get away
From the troubles I have in sight, wanting them not to stay
Disguised with darkness I tread upon this street so gloomy and grey
People I see there is none, oh what an eerie day
Continued my trip in the darkness, moving away from light
No chaos there just calmness, no need for proper fight
Weirdness present all over, not a soul perceived
Life has reached a closure, this is what I believed
White coats moved towards me in a multitude of sizes
No humans yet I see, a hand from underneath rises
"I think she's better and can leave this prison of hell"
They didn't know that I weaved lies to seem so well
Running out of confinement, they realized their mistake
Failing their assignment, allowing me their lives to take
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 6:36 AM UTC
kissed you like the nights
kiss the night sky
endlessly;
until the sun rises.
kissed you like my lips
kiss the ends of cigarettes.
kissed you like my blood
turns to alcohol.
i should have kissed you,
but you never let me kiss you.
[a.q.j.]
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC