"oscillating" poems
Life is an open book.
Time is an oscillating fan.
I've had to learn to skim-read because
before I can read more than a few paragraphs,
that ******* airhead comes circling back,
blowing pages like a medieval **********
The cool air feels nice, though.
Sometimes, when my head aches,
I let my eyes relax
and I enjoy the breeze as the words blur.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC
#
Each body part
sizzled in pure pleasure
in the blissed wake
of your oral efforts
brought forth the waves
of rapturous delight...
Spurs poetic inspiration
in equal liberation
of desires to please.
Bodies transpose
in fluid motion
as brazen eyes meet.
Savor the voluptuous image before you.
Indulge your eyes in my carnal halo
before they roll to the back of your head.
On all fours
knees between your thighs
tips of swollen breast
caress your chest
tasting fresh honey
upon lips in a kiss.
Ripples of ardor
hover
by wet trails
of sensual kisses
suckling towards
the apex.
Breathe in
the slow motion pace
that pulsates eagerness
to the fore tumescing bulge
leaking with anticipation
of viscous lava.
Tickles of silken hair
against flesh edges closer.
Emerging subtle grumbles
in deep resonance
betray your impatience .
Hands tightly twine
in tangled hair
to maneuver
the treasure hunt.
Licked lips pause
at the sight of fire
burning in
glazed gazes
before engulfing
the throbbing member.
Plump ruby lips
greet velvety texture
in a slow deep dive.
Tongue curls around
the flavor
in a dulcet embrace.
Moans release
as grip tightens
in my hair
settles the
rhythmic pace
to taste in an
oscillating dance.
The masculine aroma of heady musk
lingering there, arouses my appetite.
With my enthusiasm
attuned to
your preferred rhythm
suckling, slurping
surface and dive
in measured unison.
Break of breath
allows tongue
freedom to roam below,
licking, soft kissing
the tender hammock
of testicles.
Tongue and lips escalate higher
to mount another assaulting dive
deeper in the depths
of the cusp in cavity.
Wetted fingers
probe even lower
circling superficially
as gasp escapes
your heavy breath;
flaming eyes lock.
Finger dips in
with expert finesse
gorging hardened growth
within a wrapped hand.
Thighs tighten
with rocking grip.
Head thrusts onward,
drilling forward
in each dive.
Salvia slips
fingers grip
lips dip
Engorged swell, flesh tightens in an intensity
of volcanic eruption ...
HALTS
assault
Pace retracts.
Loosened lips kiss tip.
*“Soon sweetheart, your time will ***
inside me as we surrender to synergy."*
#
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
After years of aimless wanderings
Leaving behind the cities of midnight revels
And the fevered journey in metro rails,
I am back at the land of my people.
Wherever I went,
Under which ever roof I slept,
I had carried my land,
As a jewel in a casket
And ensured it rested safe
Ever under my pillow
As I moved with aliens
Unable to merge with their cultural mores,
I saw my land glimmer in darkness
Like a dew drop on a moon blanched leaf
When I sweated in the blistering sands
A patch of green landscape, like an oasis
Wafted me in a cool embrace
Then dreams poured in like star light
And I wandered in the meadows of my youthful love
My heart struggling to forget old longings
And memories lashing upon me like tidal waves
Pursued by that inalienable shadow
Suddenly being born in flesh and blood
I hastened to the streets of my youth
With hopes galore and plans vivid
But alas! There is none to recognize me
Oh! I am a stranger here
An unwelcome stranger among total strangers
Now I wonder which is truly my land?
The one left behind or the one just landed in?
Oscillating between these two worlds,
My fractured identity looms large
With worms of memories wriggling in my flesh
And a myth suddenly dying in my brain
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 10:37 AM UTC
When I enter,
the black holes of myself,
they are located,
transcribed upon the
blackboards of our
unified bodies,
the magnification of energy
transversed,
principles demonstrated
by the unconcluding
conclusion of the expansion of
creation,
the rebirthing of one universe
never ending
When I enter a woman,
the discovery sought,
the definitional needed,
the proofs equational,
the factors constant,
not the variable
truths,
the demonstrations positive,
the constants of the universe,
combinational, all within,
a single point glistening
to gentle comfort this
knowledge of my wasting,
the foresight of my limitations
from the day of birth
my matter,
matters,
my energy
neither destroyed or created,
illimitable,
my decline inevitable
and yet!
cannot alter my atomic structure.
my future guaranteed,
my inner light,
traveling so fast,
it has yet
to arrive
When I enter a woman,
the laws of physics
become special theories
of relativity,
we are motion in time,
force and energy
nucleotides rawest refined,
elemental and particle nuclear,
packets of light
exclaimed
When I enter a woman,
organic, chemistry,
interdisciplinary
my body and its life force
shaped as
electric current transceivers
crossing galaxies,
there can be no deceivers,
there but and only
the birthing of heat,
a byproduct of
interjection, conjunction
creation of creativity
<>
she is my proof
long after the
log normal of my nerves,
now parceled to the
invisible of an oscillating
log natural,
fertilizes the sea grasses
that so intoxicate,
flying, carried,
by the invisiblity of the winds,
all-where I have chosen
as my shifting shape,
when this container
leaks and crack'd,
in sentry reentry orbit,
to
the nearest garbage strewn
construction-dead
lot
When I enter a woman,
physics far beyond
the commonplace,
physical transition
to knowledge
of life ever after
death and fear are
time sensitized
passing notions,
crushed by the
consolation of physics,
the eternality
of a time
once begun,
cannot end,
and therefore
this,
my one theory of everything,
the God
I worship,
of course,
he is invisible!
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 8:40 AM UTC
It's dark.
Sounds like a rainstorm and smells like fragrant fire. But the earth underground is thirstier than what sulfur and dead things and various excrements can quench.
And the scent may be a brain tumor,
or even better some drug-induced hallucination;
either way it feels amazing.
I'd just love to slap these stupid feelings
in their pretty faces, I bet that'd also feel
pretty amazing.
a million oscillating fans and still so much heat.
divine metallic miasma .
Is there something pathological about how
I like to see the hurt & desperation & the shock that I cause? Cuz I've been told this type of behavior is 'odd.'
...I don't see it.
I mean,
I do feel remorse out of narcissism
& for my own wants & gains.
It's just a ***** ***** game.
Everyone plays one or the other.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
I want to be your abacus baby,Oh you can count on me.
I wont say that i love you, or i heart you, I less than 3 you.
Your molecules must be moving fast,girl. Cause your really hot.
Are you igneous sedimentary or metamorphic? All i know is baby you rock.
And if god existed I'd thank him for you, but I'm rational and read a lot of Sam Harris.
Your beautiful like the font garamad,but i want to see you sandarac, take your pants off.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,
And i observe your quirks oscillating, and I'm formulating, a g-string theory..
Like an archeologist,I'm gonna try and compute your age. cause i really want to date you.
You make me feel like a male giraffe. I want to nudge your **** and make you urinate,and mate you.
Scientific fact,thats what they do.
The value of my love for you cannot be expressed exactly. More rational then Pi.
Hey **** is a legitimate word in scrabble, just FYI
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
You can **** me into your super massive black hole, the center of your galaxy. Im talkin ******
I may not be the strongest or the prettiest, but my knowledge of grammar shines.
I know how to use the words further and farther..correctly. Every fricken time.
Example:farther indicates physical distance
and further a depth or degree
example: the moon is getting farther from the earth
about 4 centimeters annually. Fun factoid,take it home with ya.
You just keep getting further into my heart.
You just keep getting farther into my heart.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,and if the situation is ambiguous, further and farther can be used interchangeably. Just a fun factoid.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
Baby i less than 3 you.
So please take off your pants.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
Grayness swells and burns as ice
Coldness fills hollow creeks
My mindless ghost of a shell
But drifts ever so quietly
Ghostly shells as mine
Follow the current
Follow the breeze
Too weak to fight
To swim upstream
Now I am told the sun returns
But will it return without help?
Without artificial dawn?
Will this dusk be everlasting?
Never reaching devil's hour
And never returning to shiny morning
My ghost ever mourning
A loss of some unfamiliar friend
Sick for a home that has never existed
I forever dwell on my oscillating waking
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
i peeked into your secret
i unbottuned your sensitivity
with your own sarcasm
you blew my vietnam
my heart is a touchy speaker cable
and you sparked me up
now
i am empty beer bottles
oscillating in your hand
and then you set me down
i am your nostalgia and
you can only think of bad things
like bruised knees and gout
and that summer you
had walking pneumonia and syphilis
and you cried every night
into your mother's arms
i am the cancer you faked
in order to gain attention
i am that boy that fell for it
and gave you syphilis
i am your shaved head
on picture day in the 9th grade
i am your solitude
i am your noise
i am your virginity
being taken in the backseat of your
brother's best friend's parent's
camaro when you were 15
and more than willing
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 7:26 PM UTC
mean beam bottom ***** without reluctance.
\\ air above \\
since forever baby boy: since forever liquid sparkler.
he has sense
& peanut butter jelly geography to his page.
his romance is of the west.
his eyes are of dandelions kicked & to the wind.
he moves like ancient turtle migration.
reaches feet to sidewalk \\ sand to depths \\ ride \\
night:
velcro-tightened mind withstanding.
party lights, ***** willows, retro punch, he
is orpheus descending: with all the elements positioned just so.
\\ jellyfish electric \\
he says he likes the loneliness.
he says it’s the water.
& so he moves \\ wills himself into the next measure.
liquid resolute bits.
so move \\ orca \\
curl of eye \\ so ride \\ black rollo wave \\
basilica \\ & \\
coral reaches below \\\\\
he likes to tell it, with warmed exaggeration.
slow-motion buffalo stampede. ride the railroads free & easy.
orange glowing bars of elsewhere. oscillating seal calls.
oily portland hipsters howling on the beach. those
juno cheeked rosy-red lips.
somewhere, sister getting married.
spring, summer, fall, winter, spring.
africa girl on a branch of a tree of a forest, overlooking elephant burial grounds.
color & white material:
plantations, gas stations, diners, & sharks.
this is the morning lunar \\
sweet blue beach of the old & awakening.
he crawls out & into her breaks.
her deep heights & bombora reef. the serotonin
functions twice, exposed between thin tissues of warm-blooded neurochemistry.
human, shown.
he is as a raw page, blank, yet
dipped \\
\\ so ride \\ bulbous waves of air mother agua \\
ride \\ &
\\ ride \\ &
brew by light these occurrences forever.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 4:41 AM UTC
I will take this. I have to.
Even if it breaks me.
Even if it breaks me into a million pieces that nobody can put together again.
And it has.
It has broken me into so many fragmented pieces; I’m now what they refer to as
“damaged goods”
Something so traumatic, I’ll never be normal again.
Normal is a thing of the past.
This is what’s happening now.
Broken pieces.
Everywhere.
Every time I fix a piece, another breaks. I feel like I’m holding myself together with tape and glue and it’s not going to be enough. I don’t know what else to say, but it’s too much and it's not enough. All at the same time.
It’s like screaming without a voice.
They said there’d be waves.
They essentially promised.
They said that these waves of sadness would come and go. That happiness would slowly seep back in.
Weaving its way into the oscillating patterns of a heavy heart.
But there haven’t been any waves.
They were wrong.
Instead the pain is dull. It is constant.
But most of all, it’s there. It's there all the time.
The constant part is the worst. The only thing I could relate it to is fire.
It’s like somebody running through a fire has it easier. Sure they’ll get burned but the point is that they get to run through.
They get out.
This though? This is like getting caught in the fire and not making it through. This is like a permanent residency in my own personal hell and at some point I really need the fire to be put out; the pain to stop.
It has to. There’s only so much a girl can take. It’s like somebody has their dark hand engulfing my heart and they’re squeezing it every day and no matter how I plead, they’re refusing to let go.
It’s the greatest sadness I have ever known and it is depleting me emotionally and physically.
I. Am. Too. Weak.
Everybody keeps saying how strong I am. They have no idea. It’s like I’m the world’s greatest actress and I’ve fooled them all. All they see is somebody taking bad news well.
But nobody takes their entire earth shattering “well”.
And my earth has shattered. The death of my brother at the age of 21 has shattered me.
There’s not one thing I wouldn’t give to go back and hug him just a little longer at the airport three days before he died. It was just supposed to be his last semester at college. Not the end of a life time.
There are too many broken pieces. The jagged edges cut my hands. I can’t pick them up.
And so now all I can do is pray. With my forehead to the ground and my faith in God I will pray. Pray the pain away in hopes that one day, the happiness is real. And the tears stop.
In hopes that one day, I can go on without him.
So I’ll pray.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
I kept oscillating;
in and out of love,
in and out of emotions,
between the familiar realm of raunchy young adult literature and
the new, slightly uncomfortable realm of raunchy young adult life.
I oscillated between dispositions;
between pensive and restless,
***** and
not remembering what kissing feels like,
between the doldrums of despair and the
weightlessness of bliss.
My center of gravity oscillated, too-
from my head to my heart to
my thighs
to the cavernous void in my amygdala that was once abuzz with stupid chemicals brought out by the hysterics of infatuation
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
She constructs by hand
Seven circles in the sand
A seed of life
Part of the flower
Of her life’s power
In word and art
Oscillating vibrating
Harmonic healing
Sent to me
Sacred geometry
r
1 Aug 13
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
Enzymes directing life force through biochemical processes - nutrients from bountiful soil fusing metabolic, synchronic pulsations and creating existential tonic
Developing a constellation of ideas; a symphony of fresh and innovative designs oscillating between various meditative and educative representations at increasingly high, metaphysical levels of vibration.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
Heartstone is a reflection in music on a ‘lost’ poem. The poem described in its two short verses a summer’s day, a landscape, a fossil found and placed in the palm of a child’s hand. The poem inspired a seven-movement work for wind, brass and percussion with solo piano. Here is its poetic programme note.
Chert
The piano draws an arc of rhythm
rising then falling.
Above
two choirs of wind and brass
exclaim, fanfare, mark out
shorter, determined
gestures of sound.
The procession, almost a march,
becomes a dance.
Alone
Two choirs of wind and brass
become four couples
whose music weaves
from complexity a simplicity:
Chromatic to Pentatonic
twelve becoming five.
Prase
Four stopped horns,
five extended tonalities.
Together they wander
a maze of Pentatonic paths;
alone, and in pairs, as a quartet
they discover within
a measured harmonic rhythm.
Tension: resolution
. . . and surrounding
their every move
the piano
insists an obligato,
a continuum of phrases,
absorbing into itself
the warp and weft of horn tone.
Sard
Oscillating
in perpetual motion
the full ensemble
occupies a frame
of time and space.
Flutes, reeds,
double-reeds
brass, piano,
percussion
mirror-fold on mirror-fold
layer upon layer
overlapping.
Yarns of threaded sound.
Tuff
Without a break
the mirrored oscillations
patter pentatonics
on tuned percussion
of marimba and vibraphone
whilst
a batterie of drums
lays down
shards of beaten rhythm
against this onward
folding of tonality change.
In the background
a choir of winds
flutes and single reeds
waymark this recursive journey
gathering together
cadential moments and the
necessary pause for breath.
Marl
Relentlessly, the motion is sustained,
piano-driven,
a syncopated continuo,
rhythm-sectioned
amidst layers of percussion.
Adding edge,
a choir of brass and double reeds
amplify the piano’s jagged rhythms
providing impetus for
phrases to become longer and longer,
ratching up the tension,
ever-denying closure
until the batterie
delivers
a conclusive flourish.
Paramoudra
Pulse-figures of winds.
Motific cells of brass.
Both
negotiate a stream of
fractal-shaped tonality
expanding: contracting.
A blossom of fanfares
folding into
pulsating layers
of tuned percussion,
flutes and reeds.
A dance-like episode
absorbs a chorale.
Four horns in close harmony
against the continuing dance.
A duet of differences
flows into a cascade of chords
in closed and open forms.
The piano supports
brass-flourishing figures
before a final stillness.
Heartstone
In gentle reflection
the solitary piano –
a figure in a landscape
of collapsed harmonic forms -
presents in slow procession
the essence of previous music.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
Upon a midnight’s visage airy,
T’was a lake frozen by fairy,
…and weighing on mind’s tonnage bearing?
There for ice’ opaqueness winter’s seized,
…and arms encased in rime; trees.
“Oh my,”
At dark of sky thought the eye of something troubling upon my mind?
And the frosty cloudy glass,
Take to it upon my axe,
…and the sting of shards will pass.
And will I eat at last.
Thusly, thrusting through the skull, wettened, weakened for the cold.
…and burden carry I with me,
So encased in rime is he,
Doth make of fishing’s night a chore,
Something that I do abhor!
…and stare I did into that sea,
…my frory breathe in imagery,
Dismay it did fluster me, when my eye captured by Sea,
...and in whirling thoughts could reflection see?
…and something else came back with me.
Pool with drops, light curves, dark rings; in vapid mind now find nothing...
T’was a misty sheen seen after showers?
A damp muggy place of reflecting hours,
Typhoid strange did make snowing;
The Asteraceae of my wilted flowers,
…and that Wren philosophically sings,
…and at lake a lone be -ing,
Appearing peering my soliloquy, I am therefore I into thee.
…and fixed calm stared back at me,
“What pray tell I Enquiry?”
Did something else look back at me?
...and glaring gaze thus did see, something I had hid from me,
…and gawking in my mind did ogle; a malevolence of thought once frugal...
A gaping, oscillating, pierced Abyss, forced farther back into consciousness...
Deeper in and further still,
Climb atop Old Arthur’s hill,
…and the winged Raven’s nearer, reflected on me in my mirror?
…and time did pass turning frozen dying, icy tears of sadness from my crying,
…so did silent Hume release, all the pain that’s troubling me; whilst frozen frame thus held in peace?
I fell forward and felt submerged,
Both characters, both now have merged.
And that creature which accompanied me?
Found a solace back in wine dark sea.
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 12:31 AM UTC
Every street is full of lights
Seems a bright sky
Oscillating as my heart
between happiness and sadness
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 10:28 PM UTC
Within the Eternal Sea of Light
Stands the Tree of Life
Of seven branches, seven roots
Each a mated pair
Crowned in white Light
My Spirit rests
Along the shore.
Where the flowers sing their songs
Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before.
Tazim, Tsum
All flowers sing their songs.
Oscillating
Undertones and overtones
A rainbow of petals in "Om"
Sounding Multitudes of Love.
Elohim, Jah-Jah!
Yahweh Hashem!
Creator
Father Mother
The First Trinity
Now, in Unity Stands.
I give you my raging canyons
Wind torn spirit, haggard body
Broken heart & soul.
Stepping into courage
Hand in hand.
Lengthening inhalation
Slowing it's release
Breath of Life!
Moving into the expansive
Show me the Light.
Sweet mercy!
I am weightless
In the green fields and rolling valleys
Tumbling among the rocks into still waters
Ashes of past pain
Afloat in silence.
All is white
within Light's embrace
Traveling 90 degrees to the right
Flow into the Sacred Heart.
Within the Holy of Holies
Is a rainbow
Where thousands upon thousands of colors
Each root within the seven
Stands the Tree of Life
Of Seven branches, seven roots
Each a mated pair
Along the shore
Where the flowers sing their songs
Listening to a symphony I have not heard before.
Within the Eternal Sea of Light
Crowned in white Light
My Spirit rests
In Harmony's rhythm
In Unity Divine.
I am
In Unity Divine.
Enfolded in Harmony's rhythm
My Spirit rests
Crowned in white Light.
Within the Eternal Sea of Light
Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before.
Where the flowers singing their songs
Along the shore.
Each a mated pair.
Of seven branches, seven roots
Stands the Tree of Life
Where thousands upon thousands of colors
Is a rainbow
Within the Holy of Holies.
Flow into the Sacred Heart
Traveling 90 degrees to the right
within Light's embrace
All is White.
Afloat in silence.
Ashes of past pain
Tumbling among the rocks into still waters.
In the green fields and rolling valleys
I am weightless.
Sweet mercy!
Show me the Light.
Moving into the expansive
Breath of Life!
Slowing it's release
Lengthening inhalation
Hand in hand.
Stepping into courage
Broken heart & soul.
Wind torn spirit, haggard body
I give to you my raging canyons
Now, in Unity Stands
The First Trinity
Father Mother
Creator!
Yahweh Hashem!
Elohim, Jah-Jah!
Sounding Multitudes of Love.
A rainbow of petals in "Om"
Undertones and overtones
Oscillating
All flowers sing their songs.
Tazim, Tsum
Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before.
Where the flowers singing their songs
Along the shore.
My Spirit rests
Crowned in white Light.
Each mated pair.
Seven branches, seven roots
Stands the Tree of Life
Within the Eternal Sea of Light
Dec 12, 2021
Dec 12, 2021 at 8:42 PM UTC
I'm trying to navigate through life,
but the roads are iced over
and this vehicle wasn't built
for the treachery of snowy slopes.
My tires turn at odd angles,
oscillating wildly in their attempt
to catch some semblance of traction.
But the snow bank is getting closer
and no matter how I twist the wheel
I can't seem to steer away from
what seems to be impending impact.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
That tapestry,
Red, Black, Gold
A Celtic Circle--
silently bearing witness
to the proceedings
of that smoky room:
The aquariums--one with
the large eel who seemed
to barely fit the tank
that took up half the wall;
and the smaller, vibrantly
colored fish in the
aquarium with the eggshell
colored coral.
The remixed music played
at a comfortable volume,
by the DJ we knew
so well, together;
as many times
it hardly seemed like
he was working at all,
as he just sat down and
talked to us, for hours.
Looking through
those over-sized books of
old advertisements,
and explanations of
historical artwork;
discussing the contents
with strangers,
who became friends
in the process.
Smoke billowed, enveloping
the atmosphere and filling it
with the smell of many spice
racks, pleasantly rolled in a
shell of a soft breeze
flowing from the oscillating fan.
The smell of joy,
of a relaxed sense of mutual
understanding; that it was okay
not to say a word, because the
atmosphere did the talking
for us.
We just enjoyed sitting
on those red pleather couches
that your **** sank back into,
not allowing my feet to touch
the floor; so they often just
dangled, legs swinging
to the tempo of the music.
As I took a hit
of the hookah,
I manipulated the smoke
into O's, puckering
my lips, trying not
to laugh as you
gazed at me in a
shy sense of wonder.
That face always made you
want to kiss me.
Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 3:38 AM UTC
shes sat by the window
like a flower to the sun
burnt deep
paled lotus, mechanized motifs
cigarette, sweet parallel steams
lips pink, eyes deceased
silica tears, seeded
fiber optic designed !release
enter
automated dreamstate
delve
inside the beast
oscillating
pirouetting
psilocybe
serene
days gone underground
plagiarized by peace
prototyped the touch
she’ll never know
it’s me.
Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 7:07 PM UTC
an ample empty Sunday
nothing on the agenda,
the calendars cease their chirping,
it's a kinda free rarely heard
maybe will go see a movie,
walk alongside the East River currents,
rushing somewhere we don't have to be,
maybe we will practice rolling on the floor,
visiting and winding up the grandkids,
then escaping/leaving them with parents,
crazy high and wet & dry
maybe I'll cancel some credit cards,
crack open the briefcase of deferred questions,
have pizza for breakfast,
write half a dozen baker's poems,
finish some more of Dr. Zhivago,
that I started several years ago,
maybe, I'll keep her tied up in our bed,
releasing her when she releases me
because I released her first
yup,
an empty day ahead
full of the oscillating,
a true east/west directionless
vibrating range of
ample possibilities
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 8:28 AM UTC
Caught between the mesh of rays
Light plays with the life’s existence
Oscillating between dawn, twilight and night
Etching out the horizon of life
Intrinsic influence on all the souls
This celestial space is swathed in new light
From the unknown origin, its journey
Cradles every life with equal benevolence
Kindles hope in every heart
Rays of light travels deeper into us
It heralds the beauty of every being here
Touches us with nimble rays
It’s an eternal repetition of the charmed circle
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
Wild child space travel gypsy
drunk on the cosmos
churning a sensual pattern--
melting suns
with a carefree wink
as stars pour into her eyes
like a garnet shiraz
spiraling
in tidal waves
splashing in a crystal wine glass
caressing
her white light lips.
Planets dip and dangle around her hips
as the weight of the nebulous nectar whispers
lullabies to her eyes
as her incandescent hair contours
to copious glistening constellations
rippling across her tired body
like ice dripping on a warm chest
vibrating indigo moonlight jazz
enrapturing millions with her simple act of symphonic yawning
as the dusk light dawning over faces
embraces souls stirring--
her purring hip cat dreams
leave people like us with mouths agape
as her voluptuousness nape hushes
us with a supernova explosion of peace
oscillating between
each of our spirits.
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
There's something about walking into an empty house
that puts my mind at peace.
Instead of a spouse,
there is a fan flowing on 1,2,3 beats.
Oscillating, turn-tabling,
air stagnant like frozen meat.
Simile.
smile,
Haha...it's supposed to be funny.
It was yummy 'till he
started Ralphing over the balcony.
But, his name is Anthony
I don't care.
He can't fall asleep here and
he won't be driving.
The music is cacophony
Turn the music down for the homie!
The silence is so sweet.
Stumbling into the back car seat.
Oh ef Wolf Ge
Stop lights switch with the beat. Obsolete
keys scratch the lock; He's in the hot seat
Walking a few blocks to his homecoming.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
I stepped into the house and removed
my rain-soaked shoes on the grizzled entrance mat.
No one in the kitchen.
Though the aroma lingered, the coffee *** had turned itself off.
I touched the glass -- cool.
No one in the living room.
Half a pair of sequined flats were in the dog's mouth,
half a lady's pantsuit -- the black legs -- lied on the floor.
A soap opera on the screen, the volume low, the gold-tipped ceiling fan oscillating,
and Serge Gainsbourg's Histore de Melody Nelson played down the hall.
I followed the breathy vocals and wandering baseline to my room,
and there she sat.
The blinds open, veiny rain running along the pane,
on the beige carpeted floor, next to my unmade bed,
criss-crossed Jessica.
"Hey, sweetheart," I said.
Jessica smiled.
When she smiles, her cheeks go flush,
she lowers her head slowly, embarrassed,
but yet when she laughs,
she laughs loudly, boldly.
I've never understood that.
Jessica was wearing a white, spaghetti-strap undershirt
and blue cotton *******
Her brunette curls -- down, reaching past her shoulders.
Her toenails -- painted purple and chipped.
Newspapers lied strewn about her,
with puddles of acrylic paint atop them.
In her lap,
a white canvas stapled to a wooden backing frame.
She sang,
*"Princesse des ténèbres, archange maudit,
Amazone modern' style que le sculpteur,
En anglais, surnomma Spirit of Ecstasy."*
as she painted two lovers growing together
like curious oak trees.
I sat behind her on my bed. Pushed aside the tangled sheets.
She craned her neck to kiss my cheek sweetly.
"How was your day?" I asked.
"Oh, who cares," she responded.
Her eyebrows lifted, her fingertips traced my thigh,
"Tell me something beautiful."
"What?"
She dipped her paintbrush in red, in white and applied them
to the lovers' lips.
"Tell me something beautiful."
"I can't think of anything," I said.
"Try."
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC