#upon
exquisite miracle of language teeming,
to train us to
what our eyes are deeming
and our other senses screaming,
wait, wait, we will be along
presently
5d ago
May 30, 2026 at 3:11 AM UTC
for its stature and awe, are equal not to its diurnal cuz,
its normative superior, but this eve, its tender gaze
displaced, replaced, but a glaring whiteness beamed
so bright, this substitute, our pupils pierced
our iris’s burnt brown, moon light fearsome bright
and daytime, angrily yields to it youthful usurping
superhero this nocturnal day, our eyelids only open tadpole wide,
yet vistas and horizons are etched in bright clarity
we traverse the streets and beaches with no hesitation. but cup our hands to forehead, as a shield o’er eyes in deference to its fervor’d singularity, the beach’ed shells gleam like sky~stars in the sand, as if
they were lamplights lit to guide the way, our travel safety insured
we put aside any interior contemplation,
our exteriors so overwhelmed,
thinking only of this mysterious miracle
of an unnatural role reversibility, and wonder if our lives be
fore ere change’d
and the words of poets must score and homage
our novel disordering
5d ago
May 30, 2026 at 2:11 AM UTC
to tell a story not of this world
you will be tagged
insane
foolish
dangerous
threatening
deceiving.....
Just ask Jesus.
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 8:01 AM UTC
When I close my eyes I feel you close by,
My chest begins to tighten as my heart starts to fly.
The warmth of your touch, the smile on your face,
How I miss your tender embrace.
The nights we'd spend talking meant so much to me,
And all the time I was falling for you so secretly.
Memories of you coming flooding back now and then,
Reminding me that I love you to the moon and back again.
Nov 8, 2025
Nov 8, 2025 at 8:05 PM UTC
the F in in flowers is for Friday,
somehow the ritual of weekend roses,
has devolved squarely upon my
shoulders
every F day, I am missioned
to seek out floral, les petit bijou,
for my affliction addiction to
precious colored gems precedes me,
and and flowers are dramatically
more cost effective, even cheaper (a little)
roses these days are multivariate,
and red is only for overpaying fools
who deem them romantic, moreover,
bred now with mixed hints and splashes,
the uni~unicorn single colored flower is
rapid disappearing like a blast of dinosores
three bunches come from Jesus,
(Jesus or jaysoos, your choice, he says)
the corner florist beneath the corner bodega,
seeing me, to the basement neath East 73rd St.
he apparitions, to return to his-most-favored-
-weekly-customer, with freshest delivered arrays,
for me to ponder debate and eventually pay [for]
upon receipt,with mighty Amazon shears,
she trims, fluffs and puffs them throughout
the abode so the color of refreshing is always
with her soul’d eyeshot
upon closer examination,
She delights in the whites
wherein she discovers “my newt” traces,
hints & incidences of pink which evade
my masculine insensitivities to ascertain
the l’orange are described as pinkish,
for hue am I to see what she uncovers?
while the purpled majesties are renamed
lavendered, and a spectrum of said shaded coleur,
arrayed, splayed, and displayed
this escapade to the corner,
the inspection of Jesus’s goods,
takes 15 minutes or so, because,
things done for love, with love
are always best when seasoned s l o w l y <nml>
Nov 8, 2025
Nov 8, 2025 at 8:50 AM UTC
this verbal wishing well, appreciated,
a nut of good intentions but drives me
deeper into de-spare-ing downing detentions,
for it is only the article's genuine genius,
that elevates the human spiritus, to godlike status
no ditty this, but a wail, shriek, for
human touch is gift so greatest,
that any day passing without
either, neither but both, 'tis one
truly wasted,
a deduction on our
calculus of inited^ human intuitions,
a failure of our greatest inventions
a subtraction of our
gainful living, a purposed ecstasy
our one and only inexact
measure of measurement
that defies pedantic notions of
things of weight or volume,
but extends our own existence
sans
the armies of embrace,
the electric elected syncing,
of the shocking sharing of
closing the borders of divided spaces,
a soft contusion, a realized illusion
a de minimus of our days,
a lessening of our lessons,
a loss of earning livingness,
a nail in our coffined basket,
and here to cease without surcease,
the elemental incalculable numbered
members of our total human races,
that so tragic in a twenty four expiry,
that the bonding of affection goes
unexpressed...
offer you my armory of arms,
cleanse us both with showered kisses,
inform you thus of our emboldened connection,
voiding these lowlife separators of lineage divisors,
what matter color, gender, chosen god nomenclature,
any of this nonsensical human inventions for distancing
divested human beings from each other
tho eyes closed, and all our senses flaring,
when we confirm what we were born knowing,
there is nothing greater than the human touch
PostScript
my first and best poem of the day,
how it came to me goes unbeknownst,
but will practice what is preached
with any and all willing encountered souls,
and perhaps, come-end of day, will write,
once more, one more, re heaven on earth
7:02am
Tue Sep Thirty
Two Thousand and Twenty Five. nml
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 7:13 AM UTC
Your
Hand shall lead me
Your right hand takes me.
What a promising God He is.
Come on
Says the Lord and gently leads me
Walking with God is an
Easy thing which
I count
Sep 24, 2024
Sep 24, 2024 at 8:38 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, everyone dreams of a movie life that they never had:>
'do you have a movie idea?' she is asked
my piano's stuck on notes that made a blast
'what is your absolute dream?'
no clue!!! I scream
now with that blood reaches my knees when I lie
and shattered glass stains a cry
but one selfish day
of a one grey warning day
on a Storm
out of Vivaldi's norm
I'll make November's violins
spin the veins under my skin
when an alarm's clock won't erase history
nor dust the ink in black poetry
the purple eye
would know a who and an exact why
when a sudden mother's scream won't defeat
the eclipsed expressions or invisible heart beat
nor the recall of empty lines
things that used to be an impossible of possible defines
when a sun's light won't make a memory in sleep swing
nor the unnotice of a summer autumn winter or spring
wouldn't keep the pen's color on a compass' tip
on an adventure of a lost ship
east kills west north kills south
when the kissed would be a clear mouth
to live for the hope of it all
the said would be spit on a train station's phone call
the fall would reach the death quest
the unknown would be unraveled for the moment in rest
but the dream's missing pieces has nothing to do with the recorder
and that is why I would record ONCE then put the puzzle in a folder
**** the ones who saw
burn the **** machine after created in raw
I did title 'Waste Before You Taste' a long time ago surely
some greed changed my idea of mercy
a question to be answered is jeopardy
when no human shall know of there will be misery
when a heart of glass would be dropped and broken
when the darkest thunder of the dream was golden
once the ought to be a secret would be a wonderland stolen
I warned it would be a selfish day
yet you listened and now the death penalty you pay
-------ravenfeels
Aug 14, 2021
Aug 14, 2021 at 7:49 AM UTC
Infinity curls on and in itself,
opposing motions continue to spin.
We're drawn upon to observe
the urges of others in ourselves.
Waves unseen through idle eyes,
stillness mounts to moments of uttering.
When the sirens sing amongst us
translucent strings pull from within.
Propelled through unified switches,
laws of enchanted lure are felt.
Reflected thoughts enforce or repel,
concluded no ends over again.
May 30, 2021
May 30, 2021 at 4:30 PM UTC
I will not run just overwhelm me
With the thoughts the thoughts the thoughts.
There’s a dark shadow underneath every bright surface.
Check and chase
Every nook and cranny
Track and trace
Every mistake and
Shove into my face the uncanny.
What’s this giddy feeling?
I hop, skip and prance because
Neurons are firing and I’m talking
To myself and reviewing what has just passed in such a quick speed that I cannot catch up.
Oh I know you’re not all so bad
And sometimes I need to learn so
I constantly look back to learn but
Don’t let the shadows make everything seem dark
And don’t let the light turn into an insignificant spark.
Give me the balance and the hope,
The humility that helps me to cope with the insecure anxieties and the ignorance of arrogance.
Yes but no
No but yes
What ifs and
Did you see the look in his eyes?
They said something to me
And they were quickly covered by a disguise.
Maybe, who knows?
Just do better
Next time.
Apr 1, 2021
Apr 1, 2021 at 7:21 PM UTC
She called upon my name
filled with thrill.
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 12:23 PM UTC
Please---
shelve my wounded pride
and without flowers
with no mention or memoriam
bury me alive.
Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 6:47 AM UTC
The night is long
no touch of wrong
soul and body at little ease
and the world notices stain
Upon my soul
calm content and ocean floods,
sweet in the tremulous tides
And they would not welcome
Blossoms all the land
where the play is fair
lingered and lingers
upon thy lips
Thought you may not know
I may not feel
spirits crave, waiting to be given
all that is pure and true
Upon we, as we pass into the night!
Jun 5, 2020
Jun 5, 2020 at 3:22 PM UTC
are you a person,
or a cloud?
you seem to be,
physically solid.
you are warm,
under my touch,
but sometimes,
I feel you fading...
evaporating,
like water vapor,
into a cloud,
above me.
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 10:40 PM UTC
Though there is no physical reciprocity
and there are permanent, long distances,
you are becoming inside in an unfamiliar way,
even living myself completely down...
Not too anxious for such paranormal states
since I learned the influences of your stirring...
I know you are just growing inside again
leaving all emptiness silently away...
Leaning on the wet grass dreaming of you,
the sky is spread over before my eyes;
resembling you as receiving me with open arms,
reflecting your hair - as dark as night...
Something was born within, profound and new
as I made my sublime wish beneath shooting stars;
a couple of hearts beating inside in tandem
and I live everything twice upon a life...
Oct 3, 2019
Oct 3, 2019 at 2:52 PM UTC
I was swollen in
the whirlpool of coffee
hangovers.
Tsunamis of headache
neglects.
But when the waves of coffee beans
collected on my shores
I trod upon them, crushed and slowly
roasted under repeated waves.
And then they washed over me,
caffeine drops falling
like rain on my senses.
When I was drenched,
calmness fell upon my mind,
And I was myself once again.
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 6:35 PM UTC
Once upon a time,
I dressed in fluffy frocks
and wore tiaras
believing I was a princess.
Now that I am older,
I find myself dressing in others skin
believing mine wasn't worthy
of being worn.
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 1:43 PM UTC
The world falls upon me,
So heavy, Yet I outlive it,
Piece by piece fixing life.
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 4:31 PM UTC
#
The most damaging and deceitful lies
are the ones we tell ourselves
#
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC
once upon a wrote
*here and there, in fables and tales,
some in no guile and others
in chancier disguises,
some sine-known and some sign-unknown,
some dead in stillbirth,
some penned these words,
some a few decades old,
some of but a moment ago eyelash distant,
making me think that
someday I will scribe,
cobble some truths and
some falsehoods into one
leaping heaping melting scoop,
letting you decide,
which for better,
which for worse...*
<•>
"No matter that plain words
are my ordinary tools,
With them I shall scribe the small,
Cherish the little, grab the middle,
Simplicity my golden rule,
Write they say,
about what you know best,
Surely in the diurnal motions,
The arc of daily commotion,
Do we not all excel?"
<•>
the reason we say so oft,
in whispers emboldened,
I love you
to our children
is not the utility of
its summarizing brevity
no, no.
it is because
the eloquence of simplicity
supersedes any other poem
any of us could ever write...
<•>
is this craft that chose you,
not defined by machine millimeters,
precision absolute,
curvatures, so eye-pleasing,
they demonstrate no tolerance
for tolerance of the ordinary?
the skill of words, too, cut so fine,
find the extraordinary within,
refine, refine, refine,
shave away the trite,
the reused,
discard the instant recognition,
unusable
<•>
There are natural toxins in us all,
if you wish to understand the
whys, the reasons,
of the nearness of taking/giving away
what soully belongs to you,
do your own sums,
admit your own truths,
query not the lives of others,
approach the mirror...
<•>
The Truth Burden
is the accursed need obligatory,
the sacred sanctity requisitioned,
when the whenever,
chooses to drop in and upflag the mailbox,
an uninvited invitation,
announcing with precise bluntness,
that precisely now,
is the tool crafted moment
and you fool,
the selected tool
you must render unto Ceaser,
by your own hand,
render your own rendering,
do your own undoing,
go forth and in haste,
will thyself into the cauldron of the
Great Mystery of Creation
you cannot lie in poetry
<•>
come, sit for awhile, in poet's nook,
soft pillows for our hard Adirondack chairs,
situe hard by the bay, if too hot, we'll slow
drift to the sun room of
lace curtains and suicide poems,
still we'll observe the water, the rabbits, the cacophony low,
listening to all the noisier, nosier
creatures asking themselves,
and the trees and leaves,
where did all those poets come from?
<•>
to the interior delve,
via brush or limb,
pen or music,
the exposition, the exploration,
the reconstruction of composing
one's self, creation and destruction
of your own myths
movement of arms and legs,
sparseness of simplicity,
subsidiaries of centricity,
tributaries of complexity
<•>
*how cold are the carpenter's hands,
the weather, but an added obstacle,
this heat, makes dying different difficult,
the wood bearing cross requires additional nails
and flesh, for the extra load he's bearing,
when it snows blood in Jerusalem
the whole world can transition
when one man dies and another is risen,
where oh where lies then, the juxtaposition?
there is none, for man is man,
his divine spark, embedded,
to his maker's mark, welded and wedded,
neither snow or sun,
can ever extinguish*
<•>
now I ken better distance 'tween
artist and art,
I, a workingman's
daily dallying in simplistic machine craft,
my works deservedly lost in
the water-falling
of the endless also rans
non-nebulous distances.between skies of
Oregon country blue and
the worldy worn asphalt grayed words of
a graying man aging,
then let clarity speak, in plainest harmony,
know my deference’s soars to the high above,
one of us at birth, god gifted,
was not I,
it ain't me babe, but
**one of us, his tongue,
like Moses-stung
with a hot coal
of language's divinity**
<•>
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 2:28 AM UTC