Emotions from beyond are slowly seeping in,
spilling over my conscious,
dripping on my skin.
I want to taste it on your lips,
I want to hear it when you breathe.
I have scaled every beat you missed,
I have heard your whispers and whims,
still familiar with what are your needs in play.
Your lips feel like ripples on my neck,
divine interventions I cannot say.
Unlike any twilight skies I have seen,
your beauty is the only hue
I cannot unsee.
All I want is you right now,
this need is killing me now.

Waiting,
with my emotions in chains,
if I let them fly,
you might forget the lines
of lust and pain.
You are the only one,
to quench my thirst
so, make me wait no more
or else the demons might lose their cage,
the chains might fade with age,
you won’t be able to hold me back,
once the chains unclutter,
It’s either you till dawn or
or until I have you for supper.

Let me hold you close,
Let me hear you say,
“I will cleanse you of your sins,
the sins in love you are too afraid to say
the sins from our timeless yesterday.”

I  feel  passion transgressing all limits when she kisses,
know what does she expect, and when I return,
I owe much more to her, to be in the same  league as her,
every transaction leads to further complicated
entries in the account book; can one be just natural
like waves and shore, or be neutral, tranquil, expect
nothing, to make matters, sweet and simple?
But life becomes an exhibition match of warring teams
even lovers become opponents who play devious games
of make believe, falling slowly in to the trap of follies self created

Its a Sunday morning when the world works to a different pattern
housework claws in and takes control
of the daily tasks
last weeks work looks at me with doleful eyes
and a feather duster tickles my fancy.

Soon the clutter will unclutter itself
the vacuum cleaner will **** out the symphony
of dust and dirt and unhidden memories
and my desk will be tidied up and paper
towels will do their job.I spend time
re-arranging ******* in a more distinct pattern
" Ah, so there's that telephone number I scribbled last week!"

I return after an hours homework
and settle at my desk.
" Now where did I leave that phone number again?"

I survey the scene on AP
and skim through the comments
"God, he did not like my last poem,
She said :Keep it real
He said: What does this mean?"

and and and
The Green Eyes are forever smiling

Its a worthwhile Sunday

I better take up Chapter 36 of my book
but open Mathematical Universe instead.

Those eyes are haunting!
Its a beautiful Sunday.

projective geometry used to get me *****
all those positions

,palmately pink and ever green
breathing vasts of void my dark heart laughs in gulping wholes
moaning plenums, hooded over boundless venus-vim

now i'm tired of infinite lines
too many shapes to fit in
too wide, too tight, sharp or empty

,too many ways to come

this was meant to be a disclaimer before a collection of poems

,a way to unclutter
                angst of public  
                              lexicality,
years  after  ­ 'explaining'
                  Samir's 'polygonal me'
                                                to only-me-myself-i-was,
to then indulge this analogic soundlessness...
             
        as i disengage

i can't write without planning on it
i can't write about  writing  without feeling like a fool
                                                            ­                 (,Lear is the only one
that saves me now
                       as now i am the Fool,
                                                 dividing hearts along
in storm-***-love-like railway-*****
                                 steaming full of fiberoptic nooks,
chaining spectra-cogs of a good-will-spirit-****:
                                       concatenated hard-ons every word
each thought a pulsate vulval dream awake,
                                                redichotom­izing lives
                         of shining mons my Athene forehead
                                                      forging fountain thought,
                          urethral letting-beings-be...
freely, my chubby comes back to me
                                         prone before the prostate god)

,in other words
              the same,
                     i cannot write as other than a fool
for
why should i repeat the abject horror of the world?
isn't despair a bit.. overdone at this point?!
and why should i write just the happy!? i'm not in denial, am i?
or am i in denial
about insisting on being in denial absolutely?
--like mind-only schools...
(O the uselessness of words, dismissing patriarchal vigor with yet another wave, the 'brine-milk' ends unending,
forever Femen liberating us of words,
replaced with Fragilaria,
wasting diatomic seas and waterways,
depleted algae gone, extinct: metaphysiCalListo-craticality aborted on a broken Amazonic spear,
our bodies, bodied-hearts, finally won as ours, across Alternaqueeria, fully lucid human-species spanned
i blink my tears and blur my gaze at weeping Pleides

the plan was this: painful poem, pleasure poem, painful poem, happy poem... **** poem, sterile poem, carnal poem, priggish poem, punk poem, open poem, confessing poem, eros poem, **** poem, 'obscene-attractive' poem...
to cleanse inverted mainstreams of my steady-rhythmed pratitpaksha-bhavanams; not "poem, poem, poem, poem..."
but a taut poeming in and out of poems of poemed poiesis prosing poets free to **** again in Issa's snow, or *** on Chiera's cumaholic Shards.

pendulum left, pendulum right; then two pendulums, then none; then one that swings right and left at the same time; then one that spins all the way around, but only clockwise; then one counter-clockwise; then one both clockwise and counterclockwise; then one timeless, then one imaginary one... full of infinite little ones... to represent all the pendulata in the universe as experienced through minor parts of self.. itself as universal part-whole-parcel self-hood spanning star-births yet to come...
,
,
,but it's time to eat a 'square' meal
take off my job-search tie, my peddled lies
                   forget the sunrise vestibules we sipped from,
                                           sleeping by commoding cows

and pretend i'm not dicking myself over
                                                          by­ retreating
into cryptic spectionism-voids again
                                               all seagull-divert-adverts, play
of frozen youth abstrused,
                      self-referred referring loosed
                                          staggered worse than marginalia
no single species 'seagull' singing here

I don’t want a domestic engineer
I don’t need to live off your career
Only the things I know and feel
But cannot say unless you are here

I don’t need more than two candles
And shadows on painted toed sandals
Only the things that a smile can feel
And never spoiled by doubting vandals

Every girl has a man waiting somewhere
That’s how she keeps her interest to herself
I’m gonna’ have to change her point of view
Instead of me she takes pictures of herself

I don’t want to just pass the time
I don’t want how are you I’m fine
Walk past me looking too busy
How can I unclutter your mind?

Every girl has a man waiting somewhere
That’s how she keeps her interest to herself
I’m gonna’ have to change her point of view
If she’ll just look up she’ll see something else

These thoughts I have
in my head tonight,  
I can't really explain,  
so I sit and I write.

What I need is a way  
to unclutter my head,
to somehow figure out
what I'm feeling instead.

The shadows of time  
have to started to show,
telling me something
I already know.

With a smile on my face,
I try so hard to hide,  
that I'm just not happy
with no one by my side.

They say to stop looking,
to let it come to me,  
but it's hard to believe
these things will ever be.

And still here I sit,  
so full of dismay,  
alone with my thoughts
at the end of the day.

Going crazy, you’re words don’t faze me; I remember when growing up was as easy as driving Ms. Daisy. Been moving up lately, flying like the birds, man my stock be going up greatly. Lying awake, making myself a protein shake, working around the clock, I don’t think anything in life is a mistake. Making other rappers green with envy, is it a sin to be deadly? Not here to be friendly, hit you like a semi, might as well give me that Grammy. Ready, set, go, this is just elementary, got the wit, and you better bet my flow succeeds Excellency. Busting through the knot, love the fight, learned a lot despite everything, I’m still blowing up like dynamite. This wasn’t just done overnight, took a lot to get going, now I’m here holding my own, yeah that towel I’m not about to throw-in. Got the skill and the will, no fear, no need for a loan, destiny I will fulfill. Can’t deny my credibility, not just your average guy, got a natural ability that I apply to turn those blind eyes. Not one to deny, not some small fry, me oh my, establishment I will defy. So stand by, not about to comply, so to simplify, I testify that I will intensify people’s once unheard battle cry. Bout to bring the ruckus, don’t like it you can **** ***; I won’t sit here idle and let you continue your injustice. Not a fan of this monotonous spiral, for supposedly advanced beings we still act primal. Want to be a model, stop that vicious cycle, leave your denial, and then maybe there is a chance for humanity’s revival. These moments we use are precious, don’t drop the ball, and burn the wrong bridges. Sometimes you can be your biggest opponent, lie’s are potent, they will leave you broken, don’t believe the words that were spoken previously or in the moment. Never limit yourself, keep up a positive spirit, you are better than those jealous bigots. It’s not illicit to be you, after review, even though I may not know you, I don’t think you smell like mildew. I think to be you, is to be true, and if someone doesn’t like you, it’s their loss, not your fault that they have a distorted view. Anyone can love or hate, take this as a grain of salt, but just remember that you are the keeper of your hearts gate. Never doubt, there will be seasons of drought, it will get better, just stay patient, you will one day break out. Don’t have hesitation, don’t become complacent, keep a dedication to getting out of unhealthy situations.  You just need the right motivation, keep away from running towards short term fixes like medication. I don’t want to weep at your funeral, stay clean; any soul can be renewable. Life goes up and down like a trampoline; some things can be unforeseen, which can drag you down deep waters like a submarine.  So be careful in the battleground, it is not a playground; you certainly can’t fool around, for if you do you can end up underground.  Don’t give in, don’t be fearful, though at the moment it seems like you have no control and are in peril. Never settle for less, unclutter your mess, and release all your tension and stress. Never doubt; depression you will beat out, call the auto-bots because it’s time to roll out. Never rule out yourself man, you can work this out, yeah dude you just need a plan. Got to do the homework, file everything into groups like a network. Don’t let things keep you in the dark, become the spark and take out the devilish shark. Never doubt, not a time to black out, not a time to freak out, I believe this darkness can be forced out. Never doubt, never become a sell out, darkness we have to ***** out. Never doubt, before you go head first, you better map it out. Never question if you’re normal or if you’re cursed, demons we shall divorce.  Never doubt, let it out, work it out, don’t worry if every now and again you wipeout. Never doubt, before you say something you should play it out in your head, finish the things bothering you and put it to bed.

climbing upon a pile of wonder
so high it could never let us down
but you retain the fragrance of the inner sound
the inner turning
that stilled the ocean
the holy churning that filled us with devotion
i am hopeful yet never tired
bored to death of these disposable hearts
sordid lovers unclutter my mind
free me from the binds i’ve tied
i’ve tried to remind you
over and over
of the ways we deny our soul’s purpose
sweat and shadows
hug them tighter
and let the blindness overtake you
i am the form of swarms of salmon
in solid honeycomb they weep
if your fingers held my own
then we’d rejoice in spite of tragedy
and sing for the weeks we had no sleep
i am confused by stories
in which the princess doesn’t find her power
our hunger has overtaken us
and now we demand our pay
sweep under your bed
and in the corners of your heart
sordid are the moon’s tales
of pursuing beauty like the wind pursues the sails
i swiftly conquered my disgust
at seeing you with another man
for if you have no more feelings for me
than on what ground does my suffering stand

Songs have simple dreams. They cast their shadows with spark and smoke -
And all things gather at the cusp of a Knowing,
Tremble smitten. A wave of servitude in a Void you can’t avoid -
And a heartbeat that will stop when it’s Snowing.
There’s a Woman in the Sun
And She has your fingerprints
On many Moons.

II

Where the dog sleeps, he leaves the coffee stain of his slumber by dander
and all of your unclutter is drawn to the divet in the **** like an Ape
to a Blonde Chick and a Tower.
You had plans with an Average Day but made it a point
to be Extraordinary… Brown eyes on Boil.
You like to travel
but Nowhere Arrives
when you Go -

Until you get
there.

Then Everything’s a Lot.