ok, so this is the upswell
of wheeling free without wheels--
you taste the unknown on the wind
and endless vigor vibrates in your bones.

sidewalks, dumpsters, fields for beds,
star-gaze drowsy thinkings, underfed

but overzealous of an openness we'd never seen, we'd never see again! the planet turning magical in unexpected
ways of wanderjest--
consummate rest of freedom undenied, joyful celebrants of every day!

the strangers sudden friends stop
to gather in the journey up 'til then--
tales of kindness or of danger
sharing in some facet part

integral, shining, random and forgot--
we each diverge in thanks
or so it's been with me
despite mass fear of ****** sprees
we help each other's spirit's free

some begin and end with sore feet soothed,
the destination moved;
others with a steath-pipe harshly clean:
ember throat-smack numbs the breath
and giddy paranoia settles in
as 'the white house' sailing by perverse
-ly urban planning plotted bums who smile missing ob
-ligatory chili dogs in crowded bl
-are full to frighten morning parking lot we pitched
our tent and woke to soaking feet and sleeping bags submerged in runoff corner-lake

another time we simply waited at a truck stop,
piles of the rigs just running ready there
and one for us, he said he'd bring us north,
and more, he told us of his brothels,
his debt-collecting days, the cokehead legs he shot
for honesty, he said, and sang us poems (he wrote)
of foreign women loved, some with pictures,
pickled eggs and cooler-hotdogs stale,
my first menthol cigarette: inhale and fall
into an understanding outlaws have
of skipping all the weigh-stations, of
friendship gleaned by chance, ephemerality
in strength of truth to last:
he took our picture on the exit ramp,
gave us hugs and left us waiting there,
more than just an ex-**** trucker,
hired gun for pushing coke, but a human
sentimental in a context undefined
like justice in the sense of kindness to rewind

the rain... a joyful merciless accord
of being in the storm of open-ended
waywards torn in being home and on the road
life untenable in farther reaches worn of ages never understood

but standing in a trailer whipped with highway gusts of water-gratitude
though slipping in the bouncing hay and horse manure fertileness
we joke eternal swinging backpacks soaked and knocking spin on balance play

meeting lovers simply known as such
for nights or only one, talking into dawn
at random campus dormroom sheltering
when sober, high, tempted into impulse act
afraid or pleasant easy unknown facts
just passing by she offered for the night
his first intoxicant beyond the ***
surrounded puffing passing groaning
in the rooms above below i'm listening
smirking at the undeserving joy i swallow in her eager kiss
to throb the floating line of destiny in endless acts of freedom's light

though a ride can be a head-ache too...
piled beer cans on the floor,
clanking with each swerving,
the driver even stopping for a ****,
thankful? to be riding, not walking,
but observing when we're there, the ground, this time, i bend to kiss

Sam was the most generous:
he brought me to his home, his father took me sailing, swimming with the family
serving food on lakehouse dock and later
reading with the kids, dinner bonding
then such sleeping    deep    peace
and in the morning, after breakfast
on my way with lunchbag tastes of kindness never lost

there are many more
tucked away in word-gifts, also
blueberries to pick along the roadside, more
than i'd ever seen or thought to see
cows to sleep by, horses randy for an audience to claim the pasture for

the offer is a type of gift you question to refuse,
not to lose your wits
some are quiet, kind,
most are liberal in ways they couldn't ever elsewhere be:
snapshot saints in momentary boons of spontaneity and love.
some cross lines.
so, grateful i'm ok, but never worried otherwise. i run the 'risk' it's called,
and run it still: i ask the random for assistance,
in upturned eyes discern the weather
as in ancient times the host and guest stood cultural across
in making kin of unnamed walking in,
gifting company for company along the way
trusting always in the limned choices traveled, with a existential grin

Shoulder to shoulder you bands of brothers landed.
Code name Operation Neptune was underway.
You noble breed, not knowing what lay ahead
Just knowing that your duty was called upon.
The bugle sounded, you all answered the call
nobly you waded those waters for all.
06/06/1944 was the day.
The largest seaborne invasion in history.
Yet, you brothers in arms were not caring of history making
Just making it to the beach, alive.
I can but humbly thank you for what you all did that day,
you that lived and those that died.
What thoughts must have played in your mind.
A lone piper played throughout, what courage you all displayed.
No wonder we that came after you, leave you feeling dismayed.
Many wars have been fought since, their courage is also undenied,
but, you, you thousands on those beaches showed the world the meaning
of pride, respect and warrior.
On the beaches of Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno and Sword,
you carved a way in. To end the war.
Nobler people I doubt exist, and soon this 70th anniversary
will fade in time, but not that date of June the sixth (1944)

shiva knew from ashes, what we from
baring bodies claim to know, that
down-dogs in the buff sets vanity aside,
if not by force then over time
along with any pretzel pose, or
tapas, work, or sweaty hopping
balance challenge deeper rhythm breath
revealing limits undenied and beauty
now revised for harmful lies to go.
beginning **** and ending ****
the mirror is the sun, the blue
horizon line of thought of one.
to bend is in the mind as well,
the keener meaning flexible
of soulful empathy of self.
the class ends in corpse and being
peaceearth-airsky-lovewind-all
apparels us only with the same light
we know and bow in namaste
to saunter to the beach and swim away communal heat.
i'm underwater soon,
three hours of dominoes
fading into deep greens
of algae kumbhaka pranayam. released.
the pond-bottom gasps at me with silt, such
delight shining darkly cool and shouts
jump in bubbles at the greenrays
piercing sweetly down to play our bodies perfect.
this is an existential feast.
old rocks on which to stand connect our feet,
waterslip awareness of the deep
and of the sky
gives rise to touching 'accidents' --
we clothe ourselves in thinner veils
we talk of history and elders, while
hormones sparkle greetings stroking clear we swim
in circles slowly, diving down and playing at pretend.
'adults being children' being adult in reserve
being 'natural' being ****,
discreet in underwater lust...
'i love you' our dripping eyelashes say
against the hot raft that burns our skin;
above the surface
neutral for the genitals we are
evaporate of self-seeing worry not
to spash each other's souls.
kindred lovers elsewhere whine possession
of us, but 'living, you said, isn't about being safe,'
seducing all, at every turn, an unabashed
reflex there to be desired in.

beachbathers, nubs of pink, tan and brown
shine unbroken at the shores.
occasionally waving 'nonjudgmental' waves.
sunglassed faces work away at being easeful:
assuaging fears of voyeurism far

i have set the wall to play vairagyam
naked in the open family value smiles
leaving me to judge our acts undone
or sensed beyond the moment in the center shade,
beneath our floating hiding place
our echoed panting speaking more surreal
than just the treading water in my space
you spit the teasing offer naturally
while hidden in the middle of a lake
our shocks of pleasure, gleaming eyes
in echoes brahmacharya pulls
with spinal lock of spiral loving this
we cannot have our vibrate bliss

i name it potently for what it is,
it cools the ***** enough for
feigning innocence

i duck in and out with image firmly planted
playing on an unreal living all
caution gone~

but not before imagining
the details stored away and swept together:
in that single moment apex entrance
of our carnal members swaying into
underwater yogasex.

the ladder slips along my sides
weaving up unbreathing giddiness, as
nubile, as young forever yearnings mar until
i hook my toes and float for you
clad by sun and sky, clearest ripples
flick the lips of vastness into grin
reflects your dive,
spread silouette above
you fly into my breath
to pinnacle the dance we live
without an act we guard propriety
until alone and years have gone
i'm here before a screen to live it over differently

Dear Lord:

I am confused.

My life is Damocles,
My name is unimportant,
My sword's thread stretched
thinner than thin,
barely a 10 word poem
slender wide.

This body's homeland,
this deluded tired,
where my physic resides,
is indeed nominated accurately:

Sequestered.

Yet I am not alone,
though cut off in ways,
few can comprehend.

Sequestered.

Indeed,
secluded,
withdrawn but not by choice,
the loveliness of life
escapes and
eluded and yet,
I still believe...

a disciplined disciple,
my faith constant,
in this,
your awful trials and failed tests,
to me, success eludes,
and life deludes.

Yet,
tested beyond exhaustion,
you let me sojourn for a few brief, precious,
every-days in a multi-windowed world
where the entry fee is simply
the freedom of words
undenied,
but well defined,
in perfect clarity.

Rest and restlessness no longer debate.

Rest,
defeated has departed for more hospitable climes.

Weariness,
has won,
I rail not, swearing faith,
debate not your choices for us,
long ago,
surrendered that incomprehensible struggle.

Here I am
uncomplaining,
unfeignedly,
still here,
worn but standing in
your verbal grace.

One comfort
left
and it helps me
right
what's
wrecked
and for that,
I bear the knowledge and the burden of what ails all humans,
and what can bring them comfort unceasing..

Gifts so small  
that that some
single lettered,
make up a whole

here is me,

I

bowed, boxed, bowled over
and still bowing,
on so many days
in so many ways,
and in those the few hours
when the mind refuses
the opportunity to sleep,
hope tries to keep itself seeded

for here is  found,

Lord,

where sonnets bloom,
where one can draw welled fresh water comfort
from the words of poetry
with which you surround us,
letting me be reborn in hope ever so small,
daily, like you

The misbalance of life,
where the justice scales
seem weighted all wrong,
for in the glory of human word
is a world real and imaginary,
this poetry, this art,
so weighty this god gift to humans,
in its beauteous weightlessness,
gives me shelter so brief,
gives me shelter so grand,
that though my greatest burdens accursed,
so much suffering surrounded-sounded,

these shared words
and the ones
you gift me,
makes all these woeful waves
tamed and becalmed,
the scales of tribulation lose

Through these words,
breathe through them,
once again,
rest and strength,
restored and returned
in ever small lettered says
and your incomprehensible
Glory,
in humans,
thus stored for shared safekeeping,
is mine to share and shared.

So many the mysteries,
but this above all I cannot comprehend,
how can so many not see,
how so many abuse
so carelessly,
that greatest gift
after life itself,
the restorative words
so plentiful,
you have planted
within the earth of our
human existence.

Rocking my snap back, blowing up like a bellow back, juggling bars like it were a hacky sack. Life tries it’s best to give me set backs, but I just sit back and get back up for a comeback. Underdog from the underground, not here to blunder around for I want to be glory bound. Bound for glory, can’t keep me downed man for this is my heroes story. Story of my life, story that almost ended with a knife. Had enough of being left astray, for I no longer was going let myself be treated like an ashtray. Going into the fray, going in but this time I promise I won’t lose my way. Weighed my options, weighted the choices, and now they come to flourishing motion. I only listen to my own notions, and I will sacrifice anything to succeed even if I end up like the borthans. Death stares through the stars, but I won’t be taken by no Death Star. Starting ground up, for you gotta do what ever it takes to get to the top. Toppled the haters and the fakers, for my bars are like eating a snickers. Keep yawl satisfied and I’m so grateful that my effort has been gratified. Bonified dignified undenied modified undefined went in applied and rallied from a moral guide to tear apart the diseased hide.  Government conspiracy, government deemed freedom of speech as heresy. And here I see the flaws, and here I came out of the depths with my claws. Clawed for my dream, dream of attaining cream. Escaped the depths of the Demi-gorgan pit, because it’s all about survival of those who are more fit. Fit to be a decency, but because I’m different I’m deemed a discrepancy. So I’m going in like a ghost doing recon call me Tom Clancy, exposing all these ******* fallacies. Falling down an icy *****, and for the longest time we couldn’t open up because we was introduced to dope which was anything but dope. Dopamine filling my being, neurotransmitters firing so fast that I attain this happy feeling. False perceptions to stimulants, false ideals gotta use discretion’s before I end up in a addiction predicament. Moving fast, moving slow, the ride won’t last, so I always gotta have me mo. Self medicate self evaporate self ******* which leads to self hate and broken fate.Too long since I noticed anything but myself, feel like a ***** villain man so should I arrest my self. I just long for rest myself, and maybe it’s time for someone else to assess myself. Maybe it’s time to visit the mental asylum

Elegantly tall and slim
The face a cool façade
Of competence; no-one sees in
The world is far too hard

Hair of gold, expertly coiffed
Her nails are manicured
And filed; pretty but not to soft
Her aura: self-assured

She reclines against her chair
Commands of the garçon
A thé-au-lait; a regal stare -
He runs to be her pawn

Dark glasses reveal soft eyes
A smile touches her lips
Her true persona she must hide
From work relationships

Her life may not be easy, but
One pleasure's undenied
To sit on the Champs-Elysées
And watch the world go by

And Isaac went out to meditate in the field at the eventide:
and he lifted up his eyes, and saw, and, behold …
GENESIS 24:63*

You remember, oh Isaac, the face of the bride

From the Genesis foothills of dreaming’s beginning

Arriving with dusk as the sunset was bringing

The camel-bells music, the end of the ride?

The nomadic return of a hope that had died

Like a riverbed flooding and suddenly greening

A promise fulfilled, flowing into the evening

The song and the rhythm of life undenied…

I remember the landscapes, the names, the dark faces

A golden Havilah of biblical places

the handclapping chants overcoding a mystery.

Timeless recurrence; eternity imminent

Israelite graves I beheld on that continent;

Songs of Rebecca: the morning of history.

There is a way pain becomes corroded
it is ground down by time
covered over by new scars
with new names
I cannot forget your name
to try would be senseless
the only blasphemy I might ever know
I do not wish to sin against you
if possible, I would place flowers
deep and red, in your hands
would you kiss them
and tell me how you love them so?
how can I love you in a way
that stretches forth to find you
memories, indelible and undenied
speak to me
tell me you are fine
it is lucky to not forget
good fortune that you still stay
there is a way I tilt my head
when I am looking at you in awe
you have not gone away
you have not gone away.

The Miserable

To everyone who's ever felt alone,
There is somebody there with you, I promise.
To everyone who's ever felt rejected,
Somebody wants you, I promise.
To everyone who's ever been pushed aside,
This is not the end, I promise.
You are worth something, as am I.
We will not be left to die.

To everyone who's ever lost everything,
You will rise again, I promise.
To everyone who bitterness has ever strangled,
You will know tenderness, I promise.
To everyone who settles for being the very last choice,
Because they can't imagine being the very first,
There is hope for you, I promise.
You are precious, as am I.
Someday we'll live undenied.

To everyone who's ever felt not good enough,
You are, I promise.
To everyone who's ever been destroyed,
There is a dawn, I promise.
To everyone who's ever apologized for existing,
You have nothing to be sorry for, I promise.
You are beautiful, as am I.
This is not the day you die.

You are forgiven for the sins you place upon your head.
You are loved for the flaws you scrawl across your chest.
You are exalted for your hatred, for your pain, for your mistakes.
You are respected for the humiliation you carry in your heart.

To everyone who's ever been forgotten,
I remember you.
I promise.

I am
A daughter, a sister, a woman
A teenager, a deep thinker, an individual
A friend, a fighter, a protector

I am
A believer in justice
A ferocious warrior
A force to be reckoned with

I am
Strong, determined, stubborn
Loyal, trustworthy, steadfast
Powerful, seeing, undenied

I am
Hearing, consoling, knowing
Feeling, never kneeling
Unreeling, seething, seeking

I am
A wielder of justice
My blade is my tongue
Dripping with poison
Blazing with righteous wrath

- Jay M
September 7th, 2021

the moon had a fingernail-split underline and
there, in small heights, you could hear the sea
from anywhere. the lamps cast shadows from
objects that were, and are always, beautiful and
ugly. a lone soft life, calling, from out over grass
& then in, rippling through the curtains.

and, there in my bones, was the familiar ache:
the vastness of the ocean, its comprehensibility
appearing only in glimpses as each other fibre
untangled. little warm dissolution. comforting
tiny mutability of the world, and all its associated
weights. laid down in so many russet fields, was
each time-kept glance, gone-stale motion,
fervent belief, or undenied hope:
the breadth of humanity
lay, still.

the world was and is and will, for ever, be
the backlit glow of sunrise over a picture-book
we chose colours for, and reference, followed
by names and indices: here, the paint peeling,
the rain, settled on long grass outside of the kitchen,
the undiscoverable full fear and joy of living,
the cluttered expanse of patterns in the chaos.
the light we only see with half-open eyelids, as
the skyline burns from ahead or behind.

and i firmly insisted i was lying or
standing here, that my eyes were
closed or lying to their ordinance;
that there was nothing but more or
less to life, and that it was not my
decision, anymore, and sat cross-
legged in either sun or snow, and
it did not matter which, at all, for
i had no compass to find bearing, no string
to twist between fingerprints and tie
knots like milestones, just the lasting
impression of my own impossible and
shining inevitability. in the dust of river-
beds or the debris of sanctity, insects
broke down my flesh and the unbroken
rays of sunlight bleached my bones and
finally, all else burnt down& out, the
meaning of life precipitated from an
empty sky, running streams over the
cracked surface.
                              the soil set to loam,
and the dried roots engorged, so swollen
that gravel once again became sand, and
canopies burst from everything: in the
array, in my emptiness, there was still
nothing to know, and my ferned jaw
turned upwards to know, as part of all,
that i, too, was meaning, and i woke,
on a park-bench,
in the streams of the momentary dawn
that punctuate the endless night, as
a mother puts child, sweetly, to rest.

so, finally,
hook was cast into sea or
pick was cast into ground and
life, in its infinite meaninglessness,
struck another second-hand and
bundled its arms tight around,
in this season without relent.

and i, at once, knew:

for all the stars, stuck in that firmament,
or cloudlines, unalgebraically shuffling
against that paling blue, those i'd been lost in;
the uncountable nights and days spent toiling
in bliss and woe, for each unfurling front,
i was not forgetting a single iota, but
simply recollecting all i'd so long lost.

This pain,
This addiction.
A love letter —
Carved in skin.
A ****** red itch.
Undenied.
My scars are medals,
Tragic measurements.
Sickening,
Precise in their torment.
Self-loathing.
Self-inflicted.
Self-destruct.

Toll the bell tower and chime the hour of night
The touching hands that fingers laced embrace
Locked in a lovers hungry kiss undenied
Slake the thirst to sated lips
Unread hearts
To undying love
Burning cold as fire
Under a dancing moon
Among a chorus of clouds
Over a feast of flesh caressing...

I dare not scratch the surface Plato itched,
For fear I'd break my fingers on the stone.
My faculties in circles whirl around,
Which metaphor Aristotle would bemoan.

My femininity is undenied
And thus my musings, when they first began,
Would be utterly rejected, undeniably rebuked,
By one featherless bipedal man.

The History that gulped Atlantis down
Into its sunken depths, has made a grave
For all free thinkers, locked by secret PINs.
Philosophy, no more, these souls can save.

I carry naught but spades in both my hands,
Seeking to unearth artful thought's tomb.
Labor-sweat pours down, yet I am left to merely mourn
The heartbeat ne'er since heard from Athen's womb.

There are words unspoken within my heart,
Can you hear their whispers through the dark?
A song so soft you often miss to listen,
A song so fresh within your heart's reason...

It blooms as your thoughts strides,
Wafts like a fragrance undenied...
I am as easy as a baby's breath,
As cool as mountain's breeze.

Like the dawn that eats up the darkness,
Like the dusk that blankets the brightness,
Like the gentle sweep of the sky and sea,
You spread through the insides of me...

Like the shore that lays next to sea,
Like the breeze that sways the trees,
Like the feather that glides smooth,
My thoughts are here to stay with you...

Smoke Incense sweet Drums and Fire The soft mummer of laughter

The Circle has been swept and cast the Sisters draw near it's time at last
The drumbeat is Her magnified heart that which turns the world
Slowly stepping hands entwined voices raising faces to the silver light

Following the age old steps sing once more our songs of old Rejoice Revel Renew

Spinning under an ancient sky chanting Names now forgotten wrapped in blue gray smoke and The arms of The Lady

Oak and Elder Quartz and Myrrh Sword and Staff and Wand old and older tools and treasures from time so long ago
Music faster now Drum filled ears , flying feet and laughing eye's I see in my Sisters Beauty and Joy and Pride Strength undenied

In your Name we dance In your Name we sing This our tribute our gift our offering May it be pleasing My Lady

In your Light we are safe.


Solita -2006

Ripe feelings fill the balmy air
And ride the summer breeze
They twist and dip and whisper
Throughout the wizened Trees

They paint a vivid picture
Full of memory
Of a once caged heart
Now soaring full and free

They tell their tale with gusto
A sense of hushed pride
They speak softly to the flowers
Of a love that’s undenied.

The flowers tell their flower friends
Then those, they do the same;
Every blooming rose bush
Knew the couples names

They gossiped and they whispered
All chattering with ease
Till the story shuffled off
With a couple bumbling bees

These bees they traveled far away
Telling the tale along their ride
Of loves triumphs and elations-
And soon they heard she’d be his bride
And buzzed “congratulations!”

The couple looked into each other’s eyes that day
And said their loving I dos
While Mother Nature smiled on
Delighted by the news

I refuse to tell anyone about the dreams where I am reading bedtime stories to you, where each is a different way you die and every way I will never save you.
I don't think twice of letting anybody know that drinking Clorox could potentially **** the what once were butterflies inside of you.
I won't tell anybody that my love for you is like perfecting the stringing of the beautiful chords on a harp ( for someone who is [deaf. I [can't tell anybody that when you told the doctor you weren't sexually active, I couldn't stop thinking -"so my party favors meant nothing to you?"  My body was like an instrument and your words were the very melody that tuned it, unfortunately your vocal chords were that {of Lucifer's. Maybe you loved the feeling of tying me to the coffee table and making home movies, then creating a party once the confetti burst from my eyes, I heard once you die that you watch your life replay but I found it hurts twice as bad the second time around, now that I think about it, I think my heart exploded into confetti as well and [maybe that's why is feel empty and there are no more butterflies, just year old rotting confetti. My ribs never really echoed until you came around, I don't think I had anybody take my breath away quite like you, you did it a tiny bit different from the others, you knocked the wind right out of me and used it as air to blow banners and silly string around for your pity party.
Do you remember when you told me how cliché my poetry was on my birthday? well I do not love you like the everlasting affair between the sea and the sand & I don't miss you how the Sun misses the Moon. For I fear you as if I were alive in Pompeii during 79 After Death, And my hate towards you is as strong as the believers during the time of Crucifixion and I am as devastated as when the families of Jews found bodies upon bodies unnamed in box cars.
>I remember the taste of your mouth and your cravings for cigarettes, I was your ashtray. I remember your passion for watercolor paintings, I am your cup of brown water. I remember your undenied addiction for sweetened coffee, I am the leftover stain on your teeth. I remember your love for street racing, -I am the skid marks left on the street.<
Maybe one day you'll think back to the girl that you said you loved, maybe you'll realize that she was not the burns marks in your brain from the bleach you drank to try and ruin the confetti that is now in [your] rib cage, maybe you'll pay more attention to abandoned buildings on the side of the street, now that you realize that's what you've made her become.
Maybe you'll remember which cabinet the chemicals were in and at the point maybe you'll realize that her dreams from your bed time stories came true.

In the alley ...I mean in the valley.
Sunflowers surround & uglyiness is devoured.
A divine power with a rainfall shower.
Above the cliff hill morning glories dance in circles.
Like a gown of purple.
The world has alot of stories.
Eyes of green can be seen.
Beneath a halo of daisies.
Is your prince okay or a little crazy?
Would you have his baby?
Looking up at the grey sky.
A witness to beauty undenied.
Majestic swan watch the sunset with me.
A respect no one else can see.
A destiny meant to be.
A prince he is & always will be.
Hand in hand strolling through a mystical sea land.

Submission,
             indoctrinated
I fall, hitting the floor,
         as
words,
       penetrate,
skull filled with misled,
       judged,
              barely touched
understanding
               and, found, I
look to the moon,
                 low in skies,
where there are stars fighting for space,
   and I stopped,
                 the game of finding and seeking room
in the iced blocked heart of your own ruin.

Tumble,
        fumble
you loved,
              me; you said; I love you
yet, you, only you,
denies the soul, heart, craved for, starved for, undenied
                love; waiting its turn,
wait wait wait,
tell me will,
it ever truly be over, as the duality across sobriety,
serenity in acceptance, courage,
                                will you change?
No choice to whom we love, a choice only,
                     in allowing, love to
filter,
        filter,
               dissipate through,
dumb, inane, insane, sorrow struck, distrust, unrest
sober drunk, gone, lost, amidst
untold secrets, forming in patterns allowing choices, unknown
alive with love,
               inside the agony grows,
groans and aches,
unable to release, free love, the one you, so
undeniably,
want.

© Sia Jane

I can't help myself.
Without effort
I will take it all to pieces.       I'll show
you
Black ruin.  The misery that picks
clean my.   bones.
Self—destruction,
My whispered mantra
I will not be happy.
I will not be happy.
It's a divine sickness
Undenied. My ugliness
Is my shame.
Let me show you
The nothing I'm capable of.
Crawl towards the edge.
Step. Off.
Smile.

worthy of impedance  over time.
cause of this   space is to
   deliver me sleep-shaped. exit lights harbor
   sounds of the coming into just when you are
   born and raised, held completely
         against light    favouring  the source.

undenied, the demand   of   this
     assemble.    in any given climate, moderate
       but will not touch ground.  frothing elsewhere
    true  life, once again this   machine: in between
  labor     and     rest  is   the impossible.  to reach
     for a certain ****** midair. height is  palpable
  and will   rinse   flesh anew, how  urgent
      before i decompose   into   blue shear
         in   sky   face to  face   with   the
   all-too-immediate    rasp    of   ground  pulling
      together,  cast into   the  unloved  water
         breaking    apart   like  mesh   unwanted.

he   is  over   space   and this   is
     to    measure   warmth,   when execution
  is    the     verge  of  undoing.  so  barely-living
    and   claiming  it   so,   the   cause  of this
      performance
           is    to  free    the body |  
    making  past the  divide, careless and  almost faced
      beyond   a forthcoming   of  rescue:
    have escaped, have gone   and   already here.

earth
married to the moon
the soul
coupled to the stars
night bonded to the sky
truth
say it all
but
undenied

When your child’s feeling ill
His body hot, maybe a chill
Hold him in your arms real tight
Love him till you make it right

Our children are our own creation
made from love and procreation
teach them what is right and wrong
and how to sing that special song

When our child is feeling sad
When things all seem so very bad
We wrap our arms around real tight
Don’t be sad my little man,
and tell them all will be alright

When childhood is left behind
Our pride is something undenied
All the years we loved and cared
and all the lovely times we shared

There’s nothing more so precious
than love we cannot hide
There’s nothing more so precious
than that thing called Mothers Pride

Hood boy
Wear sweaters all the time that’s why people call me a hood boy but it’s all good for I grew up in the hood boy so no wonder that I never had a proper boy hood. So why does society expect me to attain manhood? It’s hardest being an artist, so focused on everything thing else but regardless. I hope you understand me, and I don’t know what you expect of me. Why do ya always got to glare at me, for I’m just like you but the way I grew up keeps a distance between you and me. Just because I ain’t got currency you expect me to get things by burglary or end up in the penitentiary for battery. Don’t get mad at me I’m just working in a system that you created, just a hood boy that got everything confiscated. Just my ascribed status not much I can do, just my undenied madness must need some medication to seem sensible to your upper class white man view. But ignore me I’m just a hood boy on the wrong side of the tracks, so don’t try to reform me for your just like ted to my Lorax. **** me over and it wouldn’t end any differently even if I found me a four leaf clover. Cloven in garments and jewels yet the system is rigged for the rest of us but no matter if we play this consumerist game or not we are still deemed ****** fools. Fools for thinking we can attain the American dream for that ***** just an evergreen pipe dream. On the other hand we fools for not making something of ourselves in society, we just deemed lazy *** people bumming welfare just a burden on the notoriety. Cause someone needs to pay for taxes some how and why aren’t anyone raising their eyebrows. Maybe they just cover it with their hoodies, for we to scared to cause a ruckus for those upper class piggies. For they may squeal and whimper, and we don’t want to deal with those spoiled brats tempers. And ain’t no body really understand it’s like them trying to pronounce worchester, so ******* despicable you think I was cat Sylvester. But whatever it’s just a pointless endeavour, and I would be better if I had the chance to show that I’m clever. But whatever I’m just a boy who loves wearing his sweaters, but whatever that our different cultures can never be two birds of a feather. But whatever matter we better off, but whatever maybe we continue to shrug it off.

In olden days there lived a wife
Whose noble husband courted strife
He loved her little - just at night -
This knightly treatment wasn’t right.

He found her in the woodland wild
And took her for a wayward child
Making her his own for pity’s sake
While long regretting his mistake

Belittling her at every chance
Their love was lacking in romance
And when they came to Arthur’s court
He served her up in rags for sport.

But Queen Guinevere took pity
And dressed her in her finery
At which the husband fell for her
And took his way without deter.

At last grown slothful in his lust
He betrayed his knightly trust
And the lads of the Round Table
Questioned whether he was able

To sally forth on jousts or quests
Or polish up his chainmail vests -
And what is more said they made good
On any wants of knightlyhood.

At which he rode away with umbrage
Treating her as wayward baggage
Although he took her nonetheless
To keep the score on his contests.

He ordered her to ride ahead
And keep her tongue inside her head:
While he sought out each noble fight
She found a camp and cooked at night

With trolls and bandits on the way
She saw them first but could not say:
Distracting them she made them blink
And looking back gave knight-ward wink

But when the champion won the day
He sent her forward down the way
Driving chargers decked with *****
No words of thanks in line of duty.

Til in the forest depths a maiden cried
Beset by fire and to some ******* tied
A morsel for a dragon roast or fried
The fiery beasties’ shawarma undenied.

Then Enid much beguiled the monstrous worm
And calmed its embers with her nubile form -
While Geraint freed the nymphet from the stake
She shared her story with the horned snake.

At length she found her knight had upped and left
Leaving her beset, bamboozled and bereft
But then the dragon taken by her grief
Gave her the gold that stuck between its teeth.

So, she took the stolen armour that she held
And girded up with lance and sword in belt
Giving eager chase to nymph and errant knight
To teach him his behaviour wasn’t right.

She came upon her hubby in a glen
Enticing Elyse to a bowered den
He had fancied her since way back when -
He cut her bonds but tied them back again.

Then much in wrath our mounted maiden rode
Resplendent in her anger, brave and bold
And brought to joust Geraint the Oversold
But he took flight and fled the combat cold.

And Elyse was overcome with gratitude
For this gentlest of stranger’s hastilude
That he should save her from calamity
And never once assail her chastity.

‘Young Sir, my love is yours as you desire
I am a princess and my lands are yours
Come live with me and be my noble squire
And I will grant you what you may require’.

At which the champion laid her helm aside
And tossed the curls she could no longer hide:
‘I am no knight young beauteous maid
But just a woman that misfortune made’.

When Elyse saw such woe and courtly care
She loved the girl who stood so sadly there:
‘It matters not my lover and my life
You are my choice and I your loving wife’.

And then at last they came to rest at Camelot
Where Queen Guinevere reserved them a spot
At her table (which was like Arts’ non-square),
Where all were welcome to partake and share.

And they grew old in honour and renown
With songs of courtly love that still resound
For they had found their holy loving grail -
That gentlest of knights and her beloved girl.

And last was heard of Enid’s ex-Geraint
He was the fearsome dragon’s catamite -
And labour as he might to stir its blood
The slightest recognition was withstood.

the
appetite of
the
young rose
is love
that
sing in
her eyes
but
be
weary of
her tears of
thorns undenied

i sit crooked in a lonely corner
trying to shock weary sockets to cry
weakened pulses beat in faithful order
electric tears ravage with dignity, undenied