running
deliquescing into nature
i am engulfed in stillness

i encounter a deer as i round a corner
its chestnut eyes intensely sense
something wild within me
transfixed
we meld palpably
whispering our essence

myopic views warp into acute focus
golden flowers stretch and arch
and yawning into the sun
swell with bursts of luster
whilst violets polka dot the path
with lilac luminescence

dead tree trunks
mutating into masterpieces
yearn for new life
drawing in the squirrels

yellow-bellied birds
hover
sensing my motions
whilst woodland winds undulate
pine scented waves of sea salt oceans

my ears enchantingly enhanced
by bristling leaves caressing trees
as scintillating amber butterflies
dance in synch
with the clock tower’s
ancient chiming

a gust of wind
catches a patch of sand
and sends it quivering
fusing high in summer air
then falling soft as feathers

hidden fairies prance about
answering unheard questions
problems dissolve in emerald meadows
without a hint of striving

essays write themselves
upon my mind
poetry flows through me
wings of meadowlarks
trace my face with nuances
interlaced with connotations

rushing home
i write it down
then bowing i take credit
for what was etched upon my soul
by a sunbeam in the forest

©2016janetaylor

Unanswered uncertainties limber up
Unwanted confrontations cumulate
Passion deliquescing over unexplored reason
Unacknowledged, ignored, overwritten and dismissed
Without consideration for his fragile heart
The answers flow broiling him, wearing him down

Scorn rejection,
When trust is misplaced,
And she exfoliates to true skin
Hatred smothers over her love act
Bogs him down by the shoulders
All seems empty, all is empty

Toyed with, lied to and used up
He is a clock rigged for self destruction
With no actions that lead to consequences
The reason seems bleak and obvious
His respect for her dies, His respect for her other doesn't exist
She is not the one he loved, she is not the one that he knew

A younger him he sees in her other
Making the same mistake he did, mislaid trust
The multifaceted chameleon that she is
The other doesn't see
Pouring his heart out and defending her wrongs
The other starts to undermine and ignore him

Move on they say,
Only his heart is too heavy
Forget her they say,
Only she was a perennial settlement in my memory, he thought
Hate her they say,
Only he hates himself more for trying

No one understands him
Everyone tries, but no one understands
He loved, he was back stabbed
He suffered and suffocated under the blanket of secrets
Lighten your heart brother,  the mascot of a good soul
You will be alright.

She sits atop a hill,
the brown stone Goddess
Bleeding.

She squats and part her legs,
the yoni splattered with red,
Bleeding.

No cloth, no pad, no shame
a wild wild woman untamed,
Bleeding.

Her vermilion melts, and drops and paints,
her forehead to her yoni,
Bleeding.

The blood feeds earth
melting the hearth,
Bleeding.

The red of life,
preserved in a menstrual cup
Bleeding.

From the kumkum to bindi to choori to saree,
she a woman deliquescing in red,
Bleeding.

"If i was killed in prison, that would be a blessing right now."
-Jeffery Dahmer

november twenty eighth, he prayed
to god, to mom, to sun and shade,
gave thanks to all the boys he ate;
november twenty eighth, he laid
and thought till his last ***** breath:
"well, this has been my life, i guess,"
as scarver beat him blissfully
into his deliquescing death.

he thought of all the things he did
while down came scarver's metal bar
(and not because he'd killed those kids,
but '*** his pranks had gone too far).
the guards went home that night and slept
while someone, somewhere, soundly wept.

He felt his heart fold over and slide-
out through his ribcage
And drip in front of him-liquefied.
As he poured his heart out to the page.

Dear Louise,

At 2:30 AM after
two hours of sleep
I feel I am looking
through a keyhole
and reality
is sneaking up
from behind
to give me
a much needed
kick in the *****.
Somehow, I have fallen
into a hole so deep
I can't climb out.
The arena of death
destroys the illusion
of safety and
at some point
the naked heart
cannot recover.
Everything seems
after the fact.
Everything is
after the fact.
You can't change
anything after
a split second ago.
I feel a curious desire
to do the right thing,
but there are not
enough right things
to go around.
Is life accessible?
Is life inaccessible?
I have the curious urge
to puke out forty years
of my life's garbage.
Maybe I'll change my name
to Antonio or Ivan,
move to Hiroshima or Dachau
and see the world
through the binocular
but astigmatic
eyes of a tiger.
If you asked me
to describe someone
I really know,
I'd be very hard put.
As a kid I wanted
to be a writer.
I wasn't sure
what that meant;
early ideals can **** you
but you probably
deserve it.
I know I am wrapped
so tight that if
I spring a leak
I'll sink in a day.
Could there be a way
to fence my life in
and keep the world out?
I am consumed
by fatuous sincerity.
I'd write down
all the options
int this case
but I loathe
the **** fascism of lists.
My hormones seem
to be deliquescing
into a viscous pâté
of late life protoplasm.
They belong on a shelf,
not in your pants.
I guess if no one else
will make use of me,
I'll have to make use
of myself.
This is a difficult task.
My life has been
a long preparation
for something that
probably won't occur.
For too long I have
defied almost everything.
A strong man would simply
drink himself to death,
but I'm not that strong.
Many of my sins of omission
are beginning to bother me.
Perhaps the only real use
for today is today.
Maybe I need to get
back to the basics:
eating, ******* and dying.
How to maintain
my equilibrium in the face
of incomprehension?
Waking up is a kind of homage.
Or could it be that
I don't need to change?
I'm just this.
Anyway, it's 2:30 AM
on a long night
in a strange life.
I'd better go.
Dawn may creep up
and release the
stench of coffins.
Louise, if you get this note
and understand it
please let me know
because I don't.

Sincerely,

Mikey

She leaned over
her concrete canvas,
       --The canvas
       that wasn't
       a canvas until
       the smile
       behind her smile
       made it
       So.

Ready for color-

She danced with
frozen rainbow
brushes
      --Solid/liquid fun
      that leapt
      and pirouetted,
      deliquescing in
      her hands
      . . . seemingly.

Made for making.

He watched her
steps, in their
       -Beginninglessness;
       projected-threw
       newborn light of
       old consciousness
       in motion
       Speaking.

Gestures of love-

Drawing together their
formlessly-aligned
intentions,
     -His two left feet
     tripping
     over her lack
     of back-
     facing eyes,
     that are
     without
     Purpose

when life is lived
by the living-
who do not try to
fold fate into
        tiny
        shapes
        of
        futility
  --Other than
        Themselves--

But prefer (rather)
to gambol with
existence
       in the fleeting
       endlessness
       of
       selfless
       company.

I’m the frog’s first love.
She is my first hate.

While she masks herself in ambiguity,
I look from the stretches of dream.

I want a flower’s outwardness, she said––
With a counterfeit smile.
And I believed in lover’s luck,
Because her eyes made me hot;
Slowly,
Like the wax beneath the candlewick slowly deliquescing.

You’re welcome to my ways, she said.
And my choices snickered.

There were bloodstains on white couches,
But my fantasies were ruled––
Through split second stares.
For I have left my mind, and put on love.
She remained bare.

The time’s ripe for a roaring girl––
To devastate me,
And leave me to drown in my own dust.
The end we all love.

I’ve been sitting in the bathtub
For fifty-six minutes,
Shower running,
Counting the water drops
On the wall.
I see you in each droplet.
I see your face,
Your smile deliquescing
Into molecules
I can no longer find.
Water drops are
Memories long forgotten.
I’ve counted 3,871.
I still reminisce.
I still love you.
To contain my lament
Is to count droplets.
To you,
I’ve dissolved into
The past.
To me,
Well...
3,872...

"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 ©

Vivienne wriggled restless draped in a veil of veneer,
She could never pass the stage of sleep same as her street number three.
“Our cycles are synchronized”, so the moon she did fear.

Their marriage froze frigid until deliquescing at month three,
Her lunacy at low tide leaked on her ****** red bed sheet,
Like the snow that would thaw, end of winter in ’33.

As a muse Viv was perfect, but the man suffered defeat,
With her parent’s heirs to riches, resentment followed suit.

Could it have been Dr. Huntington she inherited? Viv was swiftly swept off her feet.

The white walls met her head like a drum beating mute,
As in the fourth circle, Pluto, dressed in a white coat shocked her brain.

Across town Tom was receiving an award, celebrating with the astute.

“*Viv ruined him as a man, though quite the poet he became”,
For if it weren’t for Vivienne, Tom would have acquired far inferior fame.

_TRF

“Today as the sun began to rise calling a new day
Shall this fire of love we shall have forever,  
On your mouth I will tell all when the sun shines,
My kiss deliquescing silence in our souls and mind,

As our sensuous fervor perilous to one’s flesh,
Now that you can see my eyes now you will read,
All the untold story of what is and was meant to be,
My heart you will see I could not endure without you,

We shall wait as earth and time change all,
Days when leaves will fall upon my chest,
Climbing vines as autumn departs around us,
Because we do not fear for spring is with us forever,

Loving each other my arm under your warm neck,
We are going to wait for our irradiated eyes,
As the fire and the wind again rattle the borders,
We’ve grown together all along we did not know it.

Repudiate with a dismal glance of infinitude,
As the kisses of our flowering relationship move,
Sealed kisses seizing your body with craving lips,
Has now reached to a new height of intensity,

Not knowing all that you pursued within my heart,
Our love of spring offers us the sky of life not soil,  
My mouth or the claret blood rose into the reticence,
The exude spate deep in the pit of my mouth,

Like a solar soul with lights in need of a feeble psyche,
As deity’s and naiads roam freely to glance of infinitude”
By Andrew Guzaldo 10/17/2018 ©

“Today as the sun began to rise calling a new day
Shall this fire of love we shall have forever,  
On your mouth I will tell all when the sun shines,
My kiss deliquescing silence in our souls and mind,

As our sensuous fervor perilous to one’s flesh,
Now that you can see my eyes now you will read,
All the untold story of what is and was meant to be,
My heart you will see I could not endure without you,

We shall wait as earth and time change all,
Days when leaves will fall upon my chest,
Climbing vines as autumn departs around us,
Because we do not fear for spring is with us forever,

Loving each other my arm under your warm neck,
We are going to wait for our irradiated eyes,
As the fire and the wind again rattle the borders,
We’ve grown together all along we did not know it.

Repudiate with a dismal glance of infinitude,
As the kisses of our flowering relationship move,
Sealed kisses seizing your body with craving lips,
Has now reached to a new height of intensity,

Not knowing all that you pursued within my heart,
Our love of spring offers us the sky of life not soil,  
My mouth or the claret blood rose into the reticence,
The exude spate deep in the pit of my mouth,

Like a solar soul with lights in need of a feeble psyche,
As deity’s and naiads roam freely to glance of infinitude,
By Andrew Guzaldo 10/17/2018 ©