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"multihued" poems
1. There was the tremor of leaves, a rustle of bayonet grass parried the multihued calm of dawn's smeared light. "This is what we trained for," the captain said. We hunkered behind stacked bags of sand. 2. Filigreed shafts of light pierce the bullet perforated leaf canopy, bellowed yells punctuate the swirl and buffet of turbulent air: “Contact”,  “2 O’Clock”, “Incoming”, “ "Moving”, “Reloading”, “Ammo”. 3. Fingers twitch, the grit of soil twisted through their grip; moon slashed carcasses glint, spent shells, Earth exhales a vermillion mist, rising, echoless, in this cathedral of leaves.
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Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 1:19 AM UTC
REQUIEM
I open the blinds and see the world - in return, what does the world see? It sees me, and all my splendid, split personalities, living these amazing times, of amazing pleasures, in which we tweet tweets, and post posts re ego-trips and copyrighted links, videos and things; and, as stray dogs, we ramble randomly, and all the time,   living in our infinite worlds, of infinite lanes, till infinity; yet we suffer so much pain. Our Shih Tzus take us on extended walks, firmly leashed to our Koss plugs, as we drone cool tunes on multihued iPods, iPhones buzzing ringtones of tittering babies, stolid kings and hyperactive frogs, which would all make my eighty-six year old dad want to gag; we fly ultralight megaplanes at the sonic sound of speed, through virtual and real space, connecting dots at low- cost prices, while we belt-up, gear-up, gulp Gaga and gorge heat-inducted meals of deer, horse and over- promoted crap; and then, wow surprisingly, we are all so unsatisfied. We consciously all move-in together, and **** on end, like statistical sheep, pre-married, unloving, and broken up, and justify it all, to ourselves, with our fully stretched spandex morality, over low-carb brunches @Starbucks, two 14” screens of separation; we paint pornographic images of virgins, all called Mary, in the name of art, and, white-clad, **** babes and alter-boys, and penetrate each other, first with our fingers, deeply, then superficially, without even wondering, for a zeptosecond, why we can’t stand one another any longer. We crank-up dependencies, like high street mainliners, shamming and slaughtering for neurotoxic fixes of smileys and Crystal on billion-dollar Kogo yachts, while we all just pedal on, dispassionately, down and over interior canals, to the core of our hocked, abbrev lives, chronically connected and severely distracted, in aromatic polymer bubbles, heedlessly cruising through comic-strip farms of mock vegetables, surely to nowhere and towards no one; and quite frankly, the world laughs at all this, and sobs, and so do I.
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May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 4:08 PM UTC
Chronically connected and severely distracted
I open the blinds and see the world - in return, what does the world see? It sees me, and all my splendid, split personalities, living these amazing times, of amazing pleasures, in which we tweet tweets, and post posts re ego-trips and copyrighted links, videos and things; and, as stray dogs, we ramble randomly, and all the time,   living in our infinite worlds, of infinite lanes, till infinity; yet we suffer so much pain. Our Shih Tzus take us on extended walks, firmly leashed to our Koss plugs, as we drone cool tunes on multihued iPods, iPhones buzzing ringtones of tittering babies, stolid kings and hyperactive frogs, which would all make my eighty-six year old dad want to gag; we fly ultralight megaplanes at the sonic sound of speed, through virtual and real space, connecting dots at low- cost prices, while we belt-up, gear-up, gulp Gaga and gorge heat-inducted meals of deer, horse and over- promoted crap; and then, wow surprisingly, we are all so unsatisfied. We consciously all move-in together, and **** on end, like statistical sheep, pre-married, unloving, and broken up, and justify it all, to ourselves, with our fully stretched spandex morality, over low-carb brunches @Starbucks, two 14” screens of separation; we paint pornographic images of virgins, all called Mary, in the name of art, and, white-clad, **** babes and alter-boys, and penetrate each other, first with our fingers, deeply, then superficially, without even wondering, for a zeptosecond, why we can’t stand one another any longer. We crank-up dependencies, like high street mainliners, shamming and slaughtering for neurotoxic fixes of smileys and Crystal on billion-dollar Kogo yachts, while we all just pedal on, dispassionately, down and over interior canals, to the core of our hocked, abbrev lives, chronically connected and severely distracted, in aromatic polymer bubbles, heedlessly cruising through comic-strip farms of mock vegetables, surely to nowhere and towards no one; and quite frankly, the world laughs at all this, and sobs, and so do I.
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Fill my craving with your zesty rind In the mist of my longing, come splashing Ingest my inn with your piquant smiles Will you rain like dew for my pipe is parched? Drizzle my windows with decorative light and Melt your *** in that multihued bend Be my condiment in this insipid snack But preserve your liquiscent state No! Not in the canister Who says this dye belongs to Freud? After you entice my eyes and tongue. Then citrus filled my air now back to stanza one.
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Feb 7, 2012
Feb 7, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
Then Hue Lure My Being
Some languish sadly drowning in dreams Parched and thirsting for dawn To dance in its light once again But the music is all but gone. Compasses set on the albatross We navigate through dreams of another Our sails puffed out with ancient myths, Empty winds from a safer harbor. An aurora leaps Across of the heavens Dancing among the stars Waves of harmony, crest and curl Onto the awaiting shores of our heart. One bright moment, In a dark string of time We wake to a new dawn sky A multihued ribbon of horizon In the gaze of anothers eyes Discovered souls, unravel their meaning In the nexus of a kiss Immortal lovers breath again Melodies floating off their lips. Meant to find each other once Never to dream alone A chorus of love breaks a sea of silence We are… Love’s mariners sailing home. Petals of time, wither and fall Into the garden of life To nourish the ground, And fill the palette With our own blend of colors and light. Yes, meant to find each other once And to that one be loyal, We were only here as angels of love to sew the seeds and till the soil. And so from the moment we met The now and then and all between As our last kiss pulls away from knowing lips Our love explains what forever means.
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Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
What Forever Means
delicately, I want to tattoo constellations across your skin if only for the thought that if I can't stay with you then at the very least my lazy sunday morning, scrawled out make-believe, scattered, multihued and hypocritical ink will. and whenever you're lost you can follow the stars and come back to me. if it ever crosses your mind...
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Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
constellations
Ruby lips kissed my dreams, In another world I was free. Free to be in hers as well. She took me by my fingers, At Midnight's bell. Each night I dined. With Queen Green of the fields as She blew rings of smoke, Multihued, hazy beads. Thousand colors ran across her body Dripping on my tongue. Kaleidoscope high in our eyes, Between stars we hung. Eternal moonlight, her diamond skin Pale as white death. I let her sink in. Sink in deep, in fevered dreams. Kissed by Ruby lips, I set sail for her heart In a little rusty ship.
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May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 11:17 PM UTC
Ruby and Rust
Someone should adore Attitude someone would pour Multihued someone should appreciate Madness someone would deprecate Sadness someone should defeat austerity someone would breed prosperity someone should expect hope someone would accept wandering souls
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Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
Someone Who!