"unnaked" poems
the mind is its own beautiful prisoner.
Mind looked long at the sticky moon
opening in dusk her new wings
then decently hanged himself,one afternoon.
The last thing he saw was you
naked amid unnaked things,
your flesh,a succinct wandlike animal,
a little strolling with the futile purr
of blood;your *** squeaked like a billiard-cue
chalking itself,as not to make an error,
with twists spontaneously methodical.
He suddenly tasted worms windows and roses
he laughed,and closed his eyes as a girl closes
her left hand upon a mirror.
45k
now the world
is naked and unnaked
a swirling
pool of clumsy souls &
burning flowers
it will be
one warm morning
you come to
kiss my
memory goodbye
& we will fall
so deep
we never
come out
*******
everything's a circus
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
i have loved.
the crust of life
the o how divine reeling
of its casual thrill. and
the stern parting of flowers to break
against each heap of striding leg
their sinuously lurching scent.
(i have
and oh god how i have
loved the demure ***
of stopping day
;and where it has splayed most lustfully
entered
have i
)the music of my
fist
and the chanson of lilies.
God, and sweat oh
how i have loved thee the
swiftly naked among unnaked things.
(as a juniper, caroused with poppies,
and my neat hand curled upon a glass perspired(
the driving through late nights
and the sudden stopping at the end i have gone miles into twilight and how many i do not know to find girls in sleeping bodies i have gone miles into twilight to find them and press apart their sleeping bulbs they might suddenly alight)
but does not my fingers' itching
to meet with some things tight,
or day begin,
or the last futile gasp of easily purring Summer
match by cruel luck
the urge of life to sin?
i do not know.
i only know that i have loved,
(let us see if that's enough).
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC