Ganders...gargantua--ensconced in far-fetched space...
(attrition)...LOOK AT THAT LINE...LOOK AT IT...
ROUND THE CORNERS OF PERPETUITY...predilections.
A soul's inalienable fracas...on bend and knee...hop...and
whoop...miasmic gargoyles poppy-wreathed...
for all-too-lucid dreaming...chanting etceteras of bare riff raffs.
Golden breastplates...weeping willow wings...empurpled--
fending fang trumping lines of: yuck, cluck, claw and kook.
...Listless eyes...alphabetize...think a blind oracle's informed
absentia...holy and bovine.
Redolent airs...perspiration of spume's most distancing shore--
eyepieces for the specks and logs in the oculos of brothers
and sisters.
As dust to dust doth not settle...heart's yonder score...nay cease
of interstice...off-world amorousness.
Gather ye yarrow sticks...hurl them at days...roofless arcady...
live into the spectra of their worlds, come friend or foe...Fate's foundling.
Lines strung as prayer beads...curs-ed beads...forget-me-nots
enclosed in letters baiting Long Farewells, in the great literary
correspondence of authored and Author.
...Ye gorgeous gargoyles come perch and push.
Persona non grata...the wide world...unisex prodigal...All--returneth.
LOOK AT THAT LINE...LOOK AT IT...(attrition)...ROUND THE
CORNERS OF PERPETUITY.
NEBULAEIC FANFARE...come perch to push...lo...ANGELS!

"Bring me to elysium as I feel warmth of within,
I beseech your lips your voice your integument,
How can I alone bare cumbrance and stifle burdens,
Fresh outdoors my islet will cool my burning desires,

I wish to be her fantasy and make our love complete,
I want to eat the sun as it searches your body,  
That redolence exists within intangible feelings,
Tangent the wallow hunger inside depths of your soul,

Echoes within call to me as waves to the shore,
I travail as she groveled into my percipience,
I would no longer stay defiant to your touch,
Touching upon your impetuous palpable body,

Apprehensive of what your loving me might doth,
The ichorous in her eyes that echoes within,
Bellows in a delineation of abyss of passions ardor,
Deliquescing into each other’s arms unfolding in,
Elysium amorousness”
By A. Guzaldo 06/12/2018 ©

royals mistake the tears cried over animals, esp. those wild and not petted, as if they were man’s added 1 to a million ‘ stones in minature form of the sandy: see that singleton quotation mark? it’s different pause from comma semi-colon or hyphen, it’s the ironic pause - almost compounding the two words.*

i skullhead i,
i the skullhead, i,
no more a body than a maxim,
i the tomb in stone
but in body a bone,
i skullhead i,
i the skullhead,
no more a body than a maxim -
why will not death wilt
before engaging in the lives or mortals?
why will death meddle in mortal amorousness
when it will not meddle in a death of a god?
**** you death!
meddle elsewhere! who are prone
to breathe the same air as you;
interesting lives make less
of a library than libraries readily mothering
the lives hardly lived but nonetheless written...
eager ***** in section 1,
less eager ***** in section 1.5
mature ***** in sectiont 2 of being crazed
by crosswords and those dumb books
written by young men who "diverged from living"
given horse was replaced by motorcycle...
and feet were replaced by horse later replaced by
ferrari... vroom vroom...
and affordable life in london by saudi arabia investments;
let's wave to our mothers...
we'll be the ones on the premier red carpet
for sure...
it doesn't matter... i prefer opera to cinematic raqqa...
and i prefer theatre to conversation.

Amorousness is a cerulean stone
Beautifully colored, but weighs you down
Too afraid to speak, or smile, or stare
Scared of a secret you don't want to share

Months with a mixture of love and fear.

Devastation is an indigo jewel
Found deep in the earth of the lies of a fool
Yet in devastation there lies the truth
Hidden in notes and gray telephone booths

The years weathering the emotions of youth.

Purification is an apricot timepiece
Clean and bright and punctual, please
Don't mistake pure to be free from sin
Though the heart can start over as a new hour can

The time cleansing wounds from a phase worn thin.

While we are talking about time, let me just say
That the memories of an hour don't all go away
But memories are saffron ink pens in the sense
That their time fades, but never ends.

I want to spend a day in your hourglass
being turned on my head as the hours pass
sliding down into the narrowness
collapsing into a pile of spent amorousness

In what torn ship soever I embark,
That ship shall be my emblem of thy Ark;
What sea soever swallow me, that flood
Shall be to me an emblem of thy blood;
Though thou with clouds of anger do disguise
Thy face, yet through that mask I know those eyes,
Which, though they turn away sometimes,
They never will despise.

I sacrifice this Island unto thee,
And all whom I loved there, and who loved me;
When I have put our seas ‘twixt them and me,
Put thou thy sea betwixt my sins and thee.
As the tree’s sap doth seek the root below
In winter, in my winter now I go,
Where none but thee, th’ Eternal root
Of true Love, I may know.

Nor thou nor thy religion dost control
The amorousness of an harmonious Soul,
But thou wouldst have that love thyself: as thou
Art jealous, Lord, so I am jealous now,
Thou lov’st not, till from loving more, Thou free
My soul: who ever gives, takes liberty:
O, if thou car’st not whom I love
Alas, thou lov’st not me.

Seal then this bill of my Divorce to All,
On whom those fainter beams of love did fall;
Marry those loves, which in youth scattered be
On Fame, Wit, Hopes (false mistresses) to thee.
Churches are best for Prayer, that have least light:
To see God only, I go out of sight:
And to ’scape stormy days, I choose
An Everlasting night.

they came
slurred and darkened
angry and
with a tinge of indigence  
let me see those clothes
i pointed to the pile
on the quilt that the ex made
dig through it
i murmured
and i sank
deep within myself
though 20's era deviants kept me
above the "sunk" place

on her side
completely silent
on mine raucous
but i can identify with donning
the drab of a different era
he said as he wrote
and looked at his phone

there is nothing about us static
nothing that keeps us from
killing ourselves only to be revived
in a brand new era
or moment of slight significance

i perform this act in times legion
dressing to impress
or to convey honest slovenliness
or power
or amorousness

this task
these efforts
can never be realized
attempting transubstantiation fails
and its motive with it

with jeans and a white tee
i am this one
lonely
lost
lingering
limitless

by all means
take all my clothes
ties and suspenders too
i have what im wearing

I looked at his hands
as if there was blood on them
and I cursed him
He stayed calm and read

in my eyes the shape
that he had to put on
to win me
His amorousness pushed boundaries

We had long conversations
and made future
plans for the world
as it should be

with us shining in the middle
as a sun that doesn't need to
be applauded, but simply exists
to share richly what it has

The planets follow their orbits
understanding and friendship drop down
and our hands do the work
Sometimes bleeding

We had started our love as a friendship,
That turned into relish worship.
I hoped for your love that I’d never earn,
I fell for your friendly concern.

My amorousness for your pretty face,
Will never be forgotten by age.
No words can account for my affection,
Or for my appreciation.

This is no more an infatuation,
This is true adoration.
My love for you will never fade away,
It will never go astray.

For years, for ever I will stay with you,
Won’t leave you for a day or two.
Even though you do not know of my love,
I’ll love you as stars shine above.

The homily that turned into slobbering, unequaled any ordinary drool. Evenly balance my center of gravity.

Breathe in, breathe out. Lung sacs are losing elasticity.

Tighten descension through to  your love. Air is thick surrounding what is
held inside a chalice.  

Blood mist pillows.
Body crimson flush.

An amity offered presently, so shortly
gives a second's continuance. My will
to hold your crux, so I may adore,
eat of, drink of, understand.

Our sacrament has not yet recognition
in eyes of high on holy. Still, I promise
to sit with you, sopping all this
be all and end all, so I may call
your meat, bone, and marrow,
solely mine.

As amorousness is the weakness I worship, you are my sin.

Let’s share an epic kiss,
our tongues strumming
soulful sounds of passion,
astounding us with every
wave of accelerating desire,
lost in the fierce fire
that intensified around us,
leading our raptured skin
inside a whirlwind
of sensual eruptions.

Your swag is so super bad
that it brings me the inmost
pleasures of your glowing soul,
eager to comfort your coffee brown flesh,
so addicting and flavoring,
so creamy and tempting,
hungering for your artistic charmingness,
to let my hands dance enthusiastically
on your chest and tantalizing *******,
lick the suave, slender youthfulness
from your shimmering skin,
to be consumed by your fragrant
and refreshing energy.

I want to taste verdant words
of the warmest sensations
from your peachy pink lips,
touching the detailed lines
and outlines of your mouth,
admiring your mustache,
your silky bushy beard,
fading away inside your
exalted amorousness.

I feel no worship,

no love or amorousness --


but a blissful fear.

"Avail me liberate from my realm of disquietude,
Words of rapture you could do just that,  
May I not beg for that may I not beseech,
Only those words for a while I will be free,

A touch of rapture will achieve dry lament,
Your love supports me to be sinewy,
We will be together regardless of doth wheel,    
Fixation is not love nor is fascination love,  

When you are treated improvidently it is not love,
This is lack of the ingesting the feel of what love is,
When you act to another in benignity and oblation,
This is when love is pure and nobly prodigal,

To this love I will belong noble unquestionably,    
This is when love is indissoluble and unexpurgated,
No heights one can’t reach with true amorousness,
With pure love eloquent other nobly prodigal,
  By A.Guzaldo 07/28/2018 ©

They use to tell me that being a poet,
means being gifted and talented with words,
as though small simple words weren't heard,
We stray away from simple words that people know of,
To much more complex, intricate words like amorousness,
Because love can only be felt by overcomplicating the term,
As though love itself is an entity of no value can confirm.

A mirror to a mirror
Filled with inner reflections
Like a sun to a moon
Scoured with love.

Floating around the corners of the hall
Are those silent confabulations
That echoes even when emotions dissolve
Draping that pain
Absorbing that amorousness
Embracing that silence

As each night sinks in the cradle of sunshine
I would be reborn a phoenix
And will arise from the ashes of your love..

Sown by Norwegian bachelor farmer
in tandem with baked powder milk biscuits
courtesy your guardian angel
(otherwise known as Matthew Scott)

Writes to his dearly beloved precious offspring
(today March 25th, 2021)
in summer re: a shayne maydel darling daughter
prostrated by grief evincing figurative bite marks
indicative being smitten (now unrequited love).

Ever since her young heartthrob
unexpectedly rent asunder
fledgling relationship,
his heart felt initial zeal squelched,
when prized progeny voiced ecstasy
toward him, an attractive lad
regarding company hungrily sought
once breached a bond
subsequently rent asunder
impossible mission
to bridge formidable chasm.

Aeons of sorrowful tears shed,
wherein our hereditary blood and flesh
weeps profuse grievousness
whereby papa
(feeling helpless thousands of miles away)
wonders how much more time will elapse
before aforementioned lass
exhibits freedom from melancholic affliction.

Scant amount of time
actually constitutes
longevity of amorousness
between Shana Punim
and he who caught fancy
of same quite sensitive
twenty two year old young woman,
nevertheless an ordinarily
indomitable female spirit
reduced to inconsolable grief
similar to when Zayda
(her paternal grandfather)
passed away inching up on six months ago.

The width, depth, and breadth amidst
every cell comprising
one generic body well nigh
manifested as yours truly (me)
doth also plaintively cry
nsync with sad mood
(analogous to when
said loved one didst die),
cuz filial linkedin connection
automatically triggers chain reaction,
who helped beget
referenced youngest adult child of mine.

Naivete and innocence
pitched hither and yon
to and fro, where male testosterone won
out against moral scruples
(read marital covenant I violated),
where temptation appropriated from son
of the Boyce Brandon
and later Harriet Harris,

who willingly and wantonly
surrendered himself to concupiscence
thus receiving just desserts
being privy forced to experience hurt,
(albeit vicariously)
heaped upon Shana without question.

Nsync with variations on a theme:
of drool worthy Reuben Sandwich
(consisting of corned beef,
Swiss cheese, sauerkraut,
Russian dressing between slices
of rye bread that is grilled
until the bread is crispy
and the cheese melts)
various and sundry
pseudo lurid fictitious escapades
mostly I did merrily wet
an appetite for consummation
whet madness aye ever did dream.

The missus personal trappings
strewn helter skelter
after a hard day's night
every perilous step fraught
with danger field analogous
riding as passenger
with death cab for cutie
'course thy quasi
bohemian rhapsodic Queen
of denial feigns ignorance

attributes hazardous condition
linkedin with accident prone
little lord Fauntleroy's
double doppelganger, me
trumpeting pet husband,
her unrequited germane Liebchen
willing to risk life and limb
doting hand and foot
as proper husbandly duties.

He (ahem... me) exhibits drama
whimsically visiting slapstick pantomime,
especially pretending to remove sneakers
pulling with all my feeble strength
off little feet of wife
half-heartedly struggling,
(stringent rule of shoe game)
lamely denouncing marriage
nevertheless conveying jollity
regarding marital entrapment
er... rather unbridled wedded bliss
constituting fits and starts enduring
about two and a half dozen years.

I reciprocated amorousness,
whether toward MaryAnne,
(his long ago coldly dismissed
sagacious enchanting first paramour,
(half a dozen years my senior),
sported webbed wide whirled toes,
whose astrological forecast
accurately predicted promising
acquaintanceship/relationship – tanked

potential sage rubber soul mates
(two plus score years ago -
gone to naught),
which latter aforementioned
delightfully humble lass
decried he fomented
incessant emotional grief,
he cruelly (albeit unwittingly)
doled out nothing

but lackluster lovelessness
attributed to identical
astrological zodiac signs (Capricorn)
(matter of fact shared same birth date
January 13th - six years age difference)
and similar flat wide thumb
stubborn misconstrued perception,
whereby fancy free and footloose
selfish nasty short brute nevertheless
deemed himself undeserving of love - humph!

Addeneum: Approximately
four plus decades
re: one quarter century after
aforementioned baptismal initiation
love stricken paroxysm
forty fifth president of United States
took (i.e. plagiarized) many pages courtesy,
cruel playbook authored
by Matthew Scott Harris,

who left trail of heartbroken sage woman
commander in chief deliberately stoked,
née sparked long
simmering, smoldering, and stewing
long fostering white supremacist altercation
fiendishly igniting racial conflagration
exploding during late spring 2020.

No matter no child left behind kibitzing
(yours truly as boy plucked petals
off daisy reciting "she loves me,"
"she loves me not"...
cupid loosed an arrow
into boyhood neighborhood sweetheart

she innocently bespoke
"I wanna marry you,"
when uttered courtesy Sherry Jones,
a little girl who lived
approximately three doors down
along cul-de-sac within Apple Valley
perpendicular to Lantern Lane,
or more age apropos,

when young gallivanting
purported vestal ****** ladies
nonverbally signalled
libidinal proclamations of emancipation,
as demurely expressed
lest unlucky (chaste into)
precocious ******* proclivity
suffered the punishment
of being buried alive.

Now back to present day,
when our old geezer,
the prototype garden variety
male of present poem -
any resemblance between general referenced
funny good fella and
living persons purely coincidental.

He (yours truly) easily qualified as
overly cocky whippersnapper,
i.e. young feisty buck
and/or Casanova wannabe
experienced bit torrent
hormonal secretions gushed
particularly in close proximity
wherein wafted pheromones -
think a waif faring ingénue.

As evident and quite obvious,
I fabricate (prevaricating
my signature trademark)
rather than stating bland reality stark,
yet will plainly explain issue
in summary essential rhyme
without reason constitutes
nothing more spectacular than
garden variety generic pockmark
excised pustule ofttimes hallmark
of teenage/ pubescent pimply benchmark.