"metallics" poems
you
deserve
better
than what you've been accepting.
than all that you have chased.
than every.single.tear
that has fallen out of
place
when you realize that every lie,
was never worth your time
you can sell your watches
you have too many, anyways
one day, you will look into the sky
it won't be dark,
you will walk outside
the light you see-- will not be from the moon,
the shadows that surround you-- will not be those of demons
pulling you to down to Hades:
your blanket will not be misery
but
you won't simply wake up, alleviated by fate
you will have to fight
wars against yourself-- the worst kind imaginable
you
are up against the odds of giants
not even a troll-- would attempt to cross the bridges that you must build
but you can do it
you must learn to live with a shield in your hand
and a bow on your back
and eventually
one day,
you will look into the sky
it will be white and pure
you will walk outside
the light you see-- will be that of the sun's glow
the shadows of the tress will dance in your presence
persuading you to climb their swaying branches
lifting you towards the high heavens
flowers will float into your hair
yet slowly someone will approach
carrying a diamond-laced, gold ring, inside a crafted, red-silk box
in awe, you will notice his glowing amber eyes
then his face
you will see, is painted with delicate metallics alluring metallics
but you won't be swayed, for there is fire in his eyes
slowly you will reach towards the box
you've spotted the disguise
with the shield you have gathered; bow is in hand
untamed-- you are savage
unfazed by the lures of man
ferocious-- savage
he is not what you desire, rather lust
but you will walk across the bridge you've built--
based upon trust
away you will go, from all that harms
as you come to see the light
not a soul will tempt you away
for
you
are
savage
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
I will never be
ensconced in
charming lace
valentine
hearts
candypink encased
You will not see me
withering away
back of hand
upon brow
in fainting stance
in a flowing silk dress
swinging on a
perfect bough
For I am a river
wild and true
sometimes quiet
sometimes
roaring and
soaring in
shimmering hues:
Blues and greens
mixed with shades
of earth, of fire
bespeaking emotions
in tones of desire
My river can get messy
can flood over too fast
because my heartstrings
get pulled
by the strength of
the blast
It can bring up
colored stones
in its undertow
fish and otters
spinning
in voodoo
overflow
As the colors rise up
in this heated coolness,
this deluge
the influx overwhelms me
with a power so huge
and then I need
some metallics,
flecks of silver and gold
to soothe
passion's piquancy
when it gets
particularly bold
Specked within rocks
to ground me, keep
my feet on the soil
prevent my heart
from slipping
down into
a choking,
hot oil
Bronze minerals reflect
peaks of sadness,
searing pain
from rawness of hurt
with no one to blame
Yes, it can be a balm
and also a burn
to be so linked
by spirit-threads
to another, in emotions
that churn
just on the brink
but never truly there
to experience the
fullness of rush
ripe culmination
abundant and lush
and that's when the
river turns
into molten
lava...
and I must dig
deep under
layers of ancient strata
seeking relief
in coolness of earth
as my spirit
again undergoes
a kind of rebirth
For when we
grow to love
strange things
happen, indeed
In the core of
my essence
you are the root
of my
seed
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 9:58 AM UTC
The girl’s corneas expand over the small black abyss of pupil
Tides of blue and hazel rising over onyx isles
An unhinged eyelash balances precariously on its neighbor
It evaporates with her quick blink
Directly beneath her right eye
Below the mottled eggplant shadows
The corpse of a capillary drains among the freckles
Subterranean rivers of vein
Pulse under thin skin
Her nose is spherical
Etched by soft papery scars
Pores round and gazing
Culminating in a uniform valley
Lips are soft and pink and unkissed
A source for a small steady trickle of pride
Her mother’s lips
But behind the outer façade
The seamed surface is rough with nervous nibbles
Ribboned with scars of worries and troubles
She lacks fourteen teeth
Absent since the womb
Those she has are either sickly infants or filled with grainy mystery metallics
Some entirely fabricated with spatulas of amalgam
Yellowed and cracking
Rough and worn
Spongy inner marrow screaming with pain
She hides the stony incisors from view
The hair
Curling and waving
Kissing with reptilian tongues at her cheeks
Neck
Forehead
Framing her face in brambles and cowlicks
Indecisive of its true form
Fuzzy with moisture
Unwilling to obey
The strands of a gorgon
A monstrous tangle of personality
Instantly recognizable
Her hands attempt to soothe the undulating tendrils
But they anger
As stubborn as her
Refuse treatment
She gives up
Rinses her hands
And turns away from the mirror
Sighing
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:48 PM UTC
....and in your gigantic presence
With your miniscule body
You are the mirror
Of the deepest stars
Past the spaces between
Spaces,
Into the mist
Your red tailed gaze
Into the echoes
Of Babylon's Gardens,
A grace in a dance
Of your broken life,
The glutton behind the father
Who took you,
The tumultuous perfume
Left with scars behind the drapes
The neighbors couldn't hear,
The sadness in your soul
Inside the woman who
Loves me,
Slender hopes under the lines
Of the dream's eyes,
Your ears never caught
The exhausted bitterness
That only heard an immense
Change in the future,
I am here woman,
As you bite your silver lips,
Arc your metallic spine,
And the bronze shine in your
Otherwise copper hair,
I become a Magnetar
In the metallics of your body,
Mighty embraces will kiss
The crystalline eyes
With lips on fire
And singing redemption's lullaby,
Together killing your past,
Your hands hold distant visions
That bloom living roses,
Who tears are of lost lilies
In an ebony pond,
A fertile present
Gives birth the momentous,
No one can change your past,
But you're a basacrifice
Void of alcoholic bliss,
The grapes before
Now dead forever
Is a sober feeling.
Magnolia of mine,
Like a flowerbed of omnipotent
Desires,
You bloom the ***
With a martyrs sacrifice,
Your hopeless days are gone
And I am grateful for
The circles under your eyes,
The vain of your existed
Pains,
Your heart transfixed by the
Newness of our love,
Though you still look at the old
Curtains,
The confused and turbid tumult
That bore it's hole
Into your ways,
I have come when you began
To love again the life
Over a darkness under the
Nights skin,
Tearing away the darkness,
A dawn song has spread
Over the horizon,
And your light is a melancholy
Of stars,
From your eyes grow
An ocean of time,
And here we float with hope
I can only Revere
That all the worst
Life gave to you,
A fleece of golden grace
And I can only be thankful
As your sorrow
Has birthed a certain kind
Of grace with the
Pieces left intact.
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 1:57 AM UTC
Star speckled fervor.
Bottomless,
This honey spice fathomlessness
give in to this sweet serenity
I'll pick myself up
regret it later,
but I let you.
Melt to nothing.
shatter every bone in my body
I may crash to the ground
because I am lifted when i am with you.
And I wont care to stop it.
Paralyzed in grandeur
I am thrown 5 thousand feet from the air
the wrinkles in my blankets,
as my sheets drip unto the floor.
I transcend the simple worries
I am flushed.
you are divine creation.
seems chimerical.
Turbo speed, you jet engine
submerged in the ethereal
subaqueous in metallics
sinking in a daydream
sinking my ships again
build me from the ground up
flow right through me.
not trying to tip toe,
vanished in it.
your breath on me
like the first gust of summer
I wish I could bottle it.
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC
I need an acid wash and a raku fire
Roll me in leaves and set me on fire
Glaze me brilliant pink, gold-silver metallics
Turquoise tones...
I looked into the eyes of a lizard today
Saw evolution pass before me in a flash
I dreamed of you last night it was of lust not love
For I do not know you...Just a dream
Is this for love or lust?
I gotta know
Wanna be in love and have it feel like lust
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
he is in love with ****
tho' love is unfamiliar ground, for what is it
if never known or felt, defined
like the touch of first rain in spring
neither does this bring joy
to him,
new to this, but in it's circumference
he must linger
and observe such obeyence
on octane rushed inner space...
he is in love with a human *****
the shape and size oddly
gleams
his strength above
yet attentive below, how Dali-images he melts
flap-cakes on forrest-limbs, barren elms
and soggy wall clocks that sit in the dry lakes
sadness of a numbered face...
he is rusting from the wonder
how does it function
like keys to unlock hidden thunder?
he is curious to how this might sound / under
clank of legs? ***** of the skins
how soft will his iron lips begin?
tic-tic-ticking : his suedo-heart's repetition
no different than those yesterdays
mechanical, steady,
as oil perspires from hollow wells
and in moments of fearing rain
showers will stiffen the joints like pertrified woods
man, shuts closed the foil shiney eyes,
and mouth of silver lips
rusting in the quickness like lightning
fingers the opaque sky...
he must have it
this new flesh of a thing called a ****
so he may tell the sunrise
and use the magic it gives men
******* to name the flesh...
the affects
are unsimiliar to him, made of hollow tin
man, he is in love with ****
his mouth is crystalized thin
moaning through the metallics of rust & unspoken
sins
the affects
on him, made hollow ... they are as similar
to the pink heavy man
having loved the woods, the same
but walks away
in flesh & pouring rain
on him without a word to say
petrified and moaning,
lightning in the skies - yes, woodsman,
the affects of your love
are the same,
with or without a heart...
even rusted
he is in love with ****
sad power of men
to finally understand ... there is more
to flesh and less of tin
when it deals with love
tick-tock-ticking
the function of the heart within
shells of men will mock
Body. Heart/Spirit.
Watts.
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
speaking of
the greatest good,
I have been devoutly
praying for it
for everyone in
The Whole dang club
wherever it
pulls flows goes
aside under over tow
even though I know
it's kinda like asking U
to tie me to a spit
à la kinbaku-bi
with clock hands
slow-cranking circles
orbiting until dizzy
harshing me
pristine
and I say
yes to it
because more
than any one thing
I want to spread
pearlescent wings
glinting orange
off our star
and I believe
down to the marrow
regenerating inside
my chiming bones
my path to awakening
is submitting to love,
worshipping in skin
and all these
tumultuous turns
and infernal spins
this gutting
inner work
will be worth it
as preparation for
open-heart melding
melting into mellow
bliss peach cheeks
blooming on the
wisp-kissed wind
pulling toward
ornate saintly gates
unraveling metallics
with boiling points set
at incandescent
serpentine
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 12:10 PM UTC
epithets ethnocentric, writ or summons, the birth
and beginning of pataphysics, dreary ideas set aside
and conditioned, concurrently indeterminable, evils betide
man, noises and bones ossified, the mirth
of cheated demons frequent places, papers roseate worth
reading seven times after millions of chancy exasperation, qualified
soldiers groping in darkness, towns allied
with veterans, read oceanic maps and maps of the earth
are complied, pious assumptions of diverted water, patchy
knowledge of metaphysics coupled with slaves'
science ravaged, rulers' sacrifice reduced and sacrificed
rulers mediocre, rusty straps of metallics hold stones, catchy
choruses are mere repetitions of no one craves
dignity, waives privileges highly priced
Oct 3, 2020
Oct 3, 2020 at 4:28 AM UTC