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Anthony Pierre Apr 2020
Oh William, Oh William
The Franciscan Friar
Oh William of Ockham
Who deems thee a liar?

If the solution is simpler
Then it ought to be right
But not... not for love's hurt
That I crave in my lonely plight

Oh William, Oh William
Wild roses and briers
Oh William my brother
Princes, Kings and Choirs
  Jan 2020 Anthony Pierre
Chris Saitta
Alstroemeria, Southern-rooted watcher of the skies,
Angel tongues of Peru, with your ******-blushed annunciation
Or Incan-hued sacrificial fire.
So much like the moon tongues of all rivers in first frost or first harvest.  

Like first love, first death is the truest form,  
And blooms in scorn of all its many-mirrored rivers to come.
For a slide video of this and other poems, please check out my Instagram page at chrissaitta or my Tumblr page at Chris-Saitta.
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
I had too much wine
He ate all my white truffles
That crude selfish boar
Wine & White Truffles
  Dec 2019 Anthony Pierre
Heather
The things you’ve said
The things that happened
Burned in my memories
I close my eyes
It all plays on repeat
Like a broken record
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
Its eighteen months since her delivery
Now she is penning odes ostensibly
Crayons in both hands: she is standing tall
What Dada says? "No writing on the wall."

With great care baby writes her graffiti
Not much untouched by her audacity
He tries to compromise with a new book
but baby says, "Daa Daa"; with a stern look

He has to admit the walls are hers now
Filled with scribbles and a chromatic cow
Its her version of Van Gogh's Starry Night
without the stars; a novice oversight

She's more surreal than Salvador Dali
The writing's on my wall: Pure Graffiti
Graffiti: Writing on My Wall
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
Where was your love?
Before the sun sets
his virginity ablaze on
the spirit of the waters

Where was your love?
Amidst the moon's splendour
As she slowly and shyly gyrates
to the great movement of tides

Where was your love?
For life. Its awesome existence.
Flawlessly adrift at sea, on land, and air
To heir: a seed in its seed.  To infinity's end

Where was your love?
For death's dark, decadent demons.
A great necessity in the cycle of life.
The Phoenix of forever.

Where was your love?
Scripted in the fables of time.
Theatrically, poetically; a man-made muse.
Where was your love, but in my heart?
The Great Mystery. Where was you Love?
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
Chastity went
Anxiety came
Undressed
Thumping heart
Innocent no more
Over and over
Now it is all to the wind
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