Tripped up, halting words
Of unspoke feelings, unsure,
Deaf, snoring, unheard.

I was lost on the pavement
Along the corridors
Who left me unspoke through the scattered bloods
That left me hang on a cliff


My eyes was beneath the aftershock
But all I could do is to stare at the ceiling
No words to be found nor sounds could form
Only the laugh,scream and yells of the crowd


The thunderstorm,chill of the breezing air
Wants me to follow the serene.
My catatonic blueprinted smile was fainted
Schizophrenia that I could last at the moment


And yet an honorific began to squeeze me
There were thousands of people
But I could feel like im on the spotted arena
If I could shout out loud and escape from the reality then I'd go save by the bell.

I found myself stuttering yesterday...
clumsily tripping, fumbling,
over words.
The explanation of my whereabouts -
in question.
Like a guilty child.

Awareness then anger emerge.
irritated, indignant hostility.
That I would allow this again -
over and over and over again…

Trying to account for every moment beneath suspicious eyes. Groundless guilt rising up, as I choke, words broke and unspoke

- while the little voice in my head screams "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG!"

The Love Song of a Struggling Writer

It's strange that words are so inadequate.
Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath,
So the writer must struggle for words.


Let us go then, you and I,
As phrases dance across the sky,
Like a poem scribed upon a table
Let us go, through empty deserted minds
The thoughtless finds
Of restless nights when words have left
A dreamless sleep upon the empty draft:
Debts that hunt through bills and mail
Soon caught, no avail
To lead you to an overwhelming dilemma
Oh, do not think of it, “When will I be in print?”
Let us go on borrowed time lent.

Deadlines often come and go
But do I care? Not really…no

The words that never come to be
And phrases never uttered beautifully
Butchered at the hand of the creator
Lingering on the cusp of success
Never brought to fruition, lest I digress
Many ideas I’ve never said
My fingers haven’t moved in hours
Anger builds till I see red.

And indeed there will be time
To taste tendrils of victory
To kiss the lips of a well written acquaintance
There will be time, there will be time
When publishers knock down your door
And ask for my autograph in store
And time for typewriter keys to bend
To rust and break with age
To break hearts of which I cannot mend
Keeping secrets triumph won’t lend
Reveling in the thought of glistening diction
Before the taking of pictures and Ads


Deadlines often come and go
But do I care? Not really…no

There will be moments
To wonder, “Do I write?” and, “Do I print?”  
Time to turn back and edit my drafts,  
With run on sentences littering the page—        
[They will say: “How his grammar is horrid!”]  
My morning coffee, and scone for fuel
My pajamas wrinkled from late night frustration—  
[They will say: “But how his style has declined!”]  
Do I dare
Disturb the publisher?  
In a day there is time  
For discussion and revisions which a day will reclaim.  

For I have read them all, scanned every line:—  
Have known the evenings, mornings, late night walks,  
I have measured out my life with writers block ;  
I know the diction dies as my drive begins to fail
Between the lines of another story.  
So how should I continue?

And I have known the public already—        
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,  
And when I am on display, such a fickle crowd,
When I am blinded by camera flashes and set lights,  
Then how should I begin  
To spit out all the inspiration for my literary creation?
And how should I continue?

Shall I say, I have visited New York and L.A.
And watched the heels smack and clack the pavement  
Of lonely writers sipping their grown cold tea?…  
  
I should have been a published writer
Pounding the pavement in glittering achievement.

And after work sip cocktails with various big cheese!
Wined and dined with sticky fingers,  
Asleep, awake the thought still lingers,  
Stretched across the printing press; an ocean of you and me.  
Should I, after punctuating and correcting lines,  
Have the creative juice to write another?
I have pondered the many ways to generate fresh material,  
Though I have seen my hands become gnarled and thin,
I am no writer—and here’s no great literary work;  
I have seen the moment of my success pass,  
Having flown out the window with expanded wings,
And in short, I failed.

And would it really have mattered,  
After the pens, the quills, the empty ink,  
Among the typewriters crevices,  
Would it have been worth while,
To have never written in such style,  
To have pondered my very fortune  
To compact it into a simple sentence,  
To write, to be in books and various magazines,
and see my picture on front pages of best seller lists
  I Should say:
“I will never be in print, no prizes or ribbons.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,  
Would it have been worth while,
After the interviews and company meetings,  
After the novels, after the cover art, after the payment plans—  
And this, is there no more?—  
It is impossible to say just what I mean!  
I shall sit in the dark, alone, and brood:
Would it have been worth while?  
If I had ever submitted just one great piece,  
I’m left gazing out the window; still in refrain:  
  “I will never be in print,  
         I will never see my works published.”

No! I am not Stephen King, nor ever will be
Sad excuse for a writer or so they say
I think I’ll end my career today
Placed down my pen and ink,; No thrill,
Cannot say which way I’ll go
Words, Phrases, Plot, will change
Soon as my thoughts cease to flow
The meaning of life could rearrange
Another failed attempt, joy ****

I grow old… I grow old…
My written soul will never be told.

Shall I scrap my stories? Should I burn every page?
I shall write in fantasy, and script my dreams
The chimera call, nothing is as it seems

I do not think they call for me

The fantastic is irrelevant
As my mind does fade with age
Take piece of mind; internal war I wage

I have dared to enter realms unwritten
Have ventured past words unspoke
Which suffocate; against my throat to choke.

Ian Kennedy and Pavle Pavlović

As Sol the Rouge begins to rise,
it warms Eve’s heart, but Downs her eyes.
A dusty halo round the flame
will touch the dunes and dawn proclaim,
as distant dusty storms reflect
on Eve’s dry eye and her deject.
To get up now it is her task –
No more in Sol-light can she bask.

You must recall: it was Eve’s Gran
who went to Mars to start a clan.
From little pool Eve chose her Buzz
and paired with him, who was her cuzz.
Through porthole now Eve sees no wood,
nor earthy ground for motherhood.
With hasty zeal space courier flies;
A sandy landing ’fore her eyes.

So, as the dawn of morn is broke,
our Eve then hops, with grace unspoke,
goes out of base to Lander Stop
to fetch the parcel she does hop.
Her ‘FedEx’ was by Earth prepaid,
and on this day had come her AID,  
by careful voyage, with prosp’rous end,
the ***** arrived that Earth did send!

Low-G and man-made air do need
the seed to make a better breed.
Incestuously is not a scheme:
a gene pool needs a brand new stream.
We want no feeble Mars-strain seed,
So A.I.Dee is for the deed.
From Earth doth come the flow of genes
as bottled stuff – you know the means!

To make the Martians extra strong
The Earth Decreed all inbreeds wrong:
All ***** from Earth-bound men must come.
Through outer space it must have swum!
In DNA do secrets lie,
tho’ some do think that fated sky
will give them scope to freely screen
the final flux of wanted gene.

“I’m not at ease, but lurk and look –
  I peer at pack from Earthly nook.
  Where linger ye, my family lift
  to proffer me some needed gift
  of fruit or nuts and comfort care?
  The time is right to use what’s there?
  No creature comfort do I need.
  My friends, I’m ready for some seed!”

“My boy must have my Buzz’s face,
  and then our girl should have his grace.
  A pigeon pair with rusty hair,
  and maybe also one as spare.
  We want his freckles on each cheek,
  that all who pass-by touch and tweak.
  Buzz wants them looking just like he
  yet also really be like me!”
                                                        
The­ season’s winds bring rain and freeze
and stirs up dust with just a breeze.
And when Sol’s power does make it soar,
the wind behind rolls more before.
If’s no heat from sunless sky,
with daylight gone, the storm does die.
Unlike her feelings which grow strong,
uprooting thoughts of what is wrong.

The storm now sounds like raging ire,
and echoes of her inner fire.
As sand blocks Sol for just a while,
it’s just so long that she’s fertile.
With redhead Buzz she wants to splurge.
To break Decree she now has urge.
“I need a gravid tum, now mine’s too thin!
  A child by him: I need to sin?”

To lock herself to Earthly Kit
and shrug off worry just a bit?
But she recalls her lover’s eyes
as endless hormones swell and rise.
“Here is The Kit for you to use”.
“I do detest! I do refuse!
Then fast it dawned on me.” – she smiled –
“I’ll flip the way to have my child.”

“ So at a juncture here I stand,
  with earthy Kit in my right hand.
  Now let me throw it out as trash,
  and see Kit burn to light gray ash!
  For we are first to break Decree.
  Oh gosh, it’s us! My god, it’s me!
  On Mars it is a primal crime!
  ’Hind bars might we be held to time?”

Unlike the Martian pioneer race,
they can no longer pick their place.
Air in the base is made for breath,
for outer air is instant death.
So Eve and Buzz are in the can.
And who’s to blame? It was their gran!
The Space Base is completely jail!
(Nor could they ever raise some bail.)

As red sky flares in real turn
then Earth’s old rules do curl and burn.
While sky does grow in ****** glow
Her love for Buzz will drive the flow.
“’Tis I, the bandit, burned The Kit,
with Buzz my man! To Earth: ‘Go flit!’
Like clarion storm I’ll shout, Rejoice!
and fiercely punch the air with voice.”

“This is the daybreak of my life!
  Tonight I really will be wife.
  I know this is my true found right –
  No more for me, moist tears at night.
  Instead, I spread some happy joy
  towards my big and beaming ‘boy’.
  O, Oh! how happy we are free,
  just jestful, zestful, Buzz and me!"

Next E-mail from the Earth appears,
and has our happy pair roll tears.
“A flaw was found in chromosome  
On all accounts must ***** succumb”!
“My heart confirms that right’s my choice:
  oh, come with me, let us rejoice!
  Today Mars broke the Earth’s Decree
  Last night we loved in our low-G!”

Next Sol does rise – Eve’s hopes do too,
as thoughts begin for Martian coup.
“Can women have new Martian Law
  to stop the rules that have a flaw?”  
“The Laws of Eve on Mars now reign
  and Earth does not its Laws ordain.
  From Earth it is today we deign
  that laws of Earth and Mars are twain.”

-----------------
Legal opinion: Eve's love-making was incestuous in two ways as it 1) involved having excessive intimacy in one third gravity 2) was with Buzz, her third generation cousin, which was against the reigning Earth Rule. (She escaped sanctions by going on to found the Martian Unilateral Declaration of Independence!)

I dreamt of slow-dancing
and we waltzed until I woke
Hazy scent of desires unspoke
I, mangled with your absence,
breathe a mere thought of
reality's biting grip and rip
the blanket from my bones
Naked and exposed, more
vulnerable and assured
than ever to disclose
those tender tickles
I feel when in repose,
visceral and verbose
I spew black for it's
pronounced and bold
amplifying the dark hold
melted to my frame
Bursting free, finally
with a pounding chest,
primary shades to express,
and fear tentatively at rest
Your hand in mine gives
a soft and slow caress
and I exhale our dance
of coalesce.

Touching the moment, this delicate moment
Touching the face with its’ sad falling tear,
Softly aware that strange feelings surround us
Cloyingly close with their aura of fear.
Fear of a mantle of misunderstanding
Fear of uncertainty choked in forlorn,
Cloaked in thick prejudice clad by constriction
All drowned in a sea of wet ignorance borne.

Where stand the rational reaching for reason?
How seek the humble in searching for more?
****** not the javelin of angers’ contrition
In weighing this moment, I humbly implore.

For thus sits the fabric of deep understanding
Thus lies the tantric of feelings unspoke,
Thus the true substance of one to another
Uttered in wisdom through words best unwrote.

M.
30 September 2015

Step with me, my friend
Behind the beating fast fall of water unending.
Here we are now,
Two souls in the echoing space
Between solid rock and falling curtain of water.
Hush now...
Do you feel the pulse
Of the Earth's flowing veins,
Coagulating with your own?
Listen....
Do you hear the murmur
Of forgotten voices
Kept in memory of stone walls
Surrounding us here?
They sing to you,
To me,
To whomever has the ears to listen,
Of moss and wheat meadows
The green blades dripping blood,
Spicy and cruel crimson in the sun.
Songs of deep sorrows unmendable,
Leaving the beating heart
Cold and transparent.
Songs of love,
Love felt to consume the mind,
Uniting lovers
A million in number,
Sharing passions unspoke of.
Listen.....
Here we are now,
Two souls in the echoing space
Between solid rock and falling curtain of water,
Listen......

you could perhaps,    some n
ight come
up to 3rd flr           &
entertain. you know
.     split
words in 1/2 with
silver straight razor kept in
yr mouth. loving to
chastise mundane things i do —
grip th' railing
white hands
as petals of obscene flower
that makes feel    ...
one's everything  ...
o phelia.

and why when siren wails
past the mercadona at 3 AM
while i sit on the curb
as you buy
some-thing (i forget. wine i hope).
do you come out and stare
at my shaking hands?
your very eyebrows contesting
my innocence?
the way the fully-loaded hips ****
with the asking of your unspoke question and
legs angle to the sidewalk left foot turned
slightly inwards,
a heart attack in roberto verino.

At the far end of the casket,
  his girlfriend hugged his wife

And told her she was sorry,
  that she had tried to steal her life

Their tears then ran in unison,
  for one who loved them both

The years they shared now testament,
  to a choice he left unspoke

They never met before this day,
  and would never meet again

But each knew well the other,
and they almost felt like friends

The mistress left, the children wept,
  and the grandchildren played outside

As his wife looked down, saying “your hell has passed,
—sleep well my love, goodbye”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

I'm Happy See,
Doing Some Things,
All Which I Love,
Focused On Me,
Krav Maga,
Lot's Of Poetry,
Street Routine Super Mean,
Smooth Moves Clean,
No Karate Class,
No Gi,
Just You And Me,
Karate Fast,
I Will Never Be The He That Shot His ***,
I Don't Like Sirens ,
Truamtize From Sirensn,
All That Violence,
I Will Silence That,
Hit First Hit Last,
Soulution Execution,
Problems In The Past,
Percieve Accordingly,
Peep The Facts,
Knowledgeable,
Notice My Flow,
Vocab Though So Rad,
My Soul Is Magik,
Heart So Sad,
I Feel The Pain,
Hey Happiness I Show That,
An Oath Is A Promise,
I Know That ,
So What Is Unspoke And Unseen,
I Must Not Scream Or Proceed To Show That,
I Shroom On Long Weeks,
Peaking On Gold Caps,
Sit In A Rose Bath,
Exotic Gypsy Doll So Bad,
Affection Deep,
Passionate Sexin,
We Hold Hands,
In The Room Naked,
We Anxious,
Both Slow Dance,
I Feel So Alone ,
And Ya Know,
****,
I Suffer Silent,
Secretley Dying Ya Know And,
I'm Gonna Change The World Cos We Both Can't,
Peace To My Enimies,
I Don't Have Beef,
Not Time To Eat With Close Frienimes,
I'm Leaving A Very Deep Intriguing Legacy,
Remember Please

We feast tonight!
The fasting's past, and the banquet now is spread.
We feast tonight!
Enough for all to gather and break bread.
We feast tonight!
Because we hunger, in ways we barely know.
We feast tonight!
We dine together, our common ground to show.

We drink tonight!
To battles won and lost at the stroke of a pen.
We drink tonight!
To who we are, and also who we've been.
We drink tonight!
To memories, and those yet to be made.
We drink tonight!
To the future, and the doomed plans we have laid.

We dance tonight!
To music that only we can hear.
We dance tonight!
Together, hands joined, and very near.
We dance tonight!
To let out what's bottle up inside.
We dance tonight!
As though unseen, no caution cast for pride.

We sing tonight!
The songs we wrote when we were younger folk.
We sing tonight!
The words we thought were better left unspoke'.
We sing tonight!
The heavens echo, our voices of single mind.
We sing tonight!
And though off-key, could be no more refined.

We live tonight!
No other night holds portent over this.
We live tonight!
With little fear of what we lack, or miss.
We live tonight!
Because we wish, not because we must.
We live tonight!
And never know, tomorrow we may be dust.

Torn lovers meet once every night
yet never as one in heavens sight

Orphillia  -

Hast thou no words of comfort now
to ease my troubled heart to rest
to take from me my fevered brow
and deep set ache of risen breast

My soul cries out for one as he
that from my sight is absent made
as futile need and want set free
in rivulets of tears cascade

For such am I of royal birth
of noble stock and silver spoon
and yet my heart attains not worth
when his and mine beat out of tune

....

Tacio

I dare not speak for fear she hears
the trembling of my muted tongue
that I wouldst taste those wasted tears
that from her eyes unjustly wrung

I beg the shadows let me hide
lest I were seen and thought unkind
watching her pain that wounds my pride
knowing that love is not so blind

For I a common fellow born
of lowly stock from country folk
am bound a bondsman here this morn
by words I am afraid unspoke

.....

the plural of grief is grief,

in our lives, we busy ourselves
accumulating various assorted
grief, some physical, most mental,
those stories when retold, first
make you groan out loud,
every-one asks
what’s a matter, no spilling beans,
you shake ‘em away with
a smile and a “just life”
and it gets
dropped

if you’re so young, that you haven't
started a career of serious collecting,
the objects that will decorate every
place, in every state, wherever the
airy transplants, you won’t be
surprised, thinking you “forgot” to
pack them, for they travel light,
though, they weigh more than any
hope chest of unworn garments that
will never be discarded,
even when
hope is so long gone,
it is still an
unrecognizable

And yet,
the plural of grief is grief

and there is a singular story,
a lost love, a guilt for letting
someone get lost, leaving them
unknowing that if you could,
you’d whisper shouts of reconciliation
for days, to cain assuage the years
when they lay unspoke,
brike broke inside a human chest
of petty
grievances

I have one,
midst all my knowns, which
even not even now, even
in my truth serum poetry
that will not be confessed,
lest you’d beg me to
never write again,
move on to parts unknown,
let that gory story abide in your own,
in your windowless palace,
with your
other locked up secret treasures
wrapped
in black
tissue paper

my own chosen grief,

unspoken, unwritten,
and resting restrained upon an
invisible line
that lives on my tongue,
it is fresh, imaged, just
a hasty taste away, when it
resurfaces at its own chosen
speed, its own chosen need
to be rebreathed, when least
desired, least required,
**in other
words,
when it chooses to emerge,
& it chooses you,
at the precise right
always the wrongest
time & place

As i lay here i think if your thinking about me.
but i'll be wrong,
so i listen to our song.
i need you by my side.
so i don't have to hide.

Are you my friend or foe,
this bothers me so,
Not seeing what to do,
But i'll live through it
for all i have done,
it is left unspoke
like the words upon your lips
watching you choke on your feelings
when your with me do you think of her?

You need to decide ,
cause its breaking me inside.
so i write away so it goes away.

One day at a time.
Forgetting the world around us
Our souls intertwining
even through the rain
You hold within you so much pain
Each day you show me
how deep your love goes
I am thankful to have you
These words never go unspoke.
Our love is deep
and flows with the sea
Setting our sails
to coincide
You are my destiny.
A home within your soul I seek.

Aching
from memories.
Nightmares
and silent pleas.

Itching
for another slice.
Addiction
her only vise.

Hurting
from words unspoke.
Remember
every stroke.

Dying
from wounds inside.
Places
nowhere to hide.

Blood-soaked, too close, unspoke words.
Your mom's eyes, but never her ear.
Dad's words of wisdom, but you know
next to nothing about his life experiences.
Granddaddy calls your brother by gay slurs
Still, when you talk to him, you're expected
to say, “Yes, sir.” Share a room,
share your clothes with your sister.
She won't share why she stays
with a boyfriend who hits her.
There's been too much agression
already, so you don't want to pry,
you don't want to push.
Family functional means carrying on,
harmony at the expense of heart.

Sugar tips, ain't your heart sweet enough.
Biting and bruising in between sheets, no need to be playing it rough.

Your words are of unspoke,
Gripping on your breath I stole from your lips. The essence of your throat.

Kiss as long as we may,
Stealing the words from your mouth you wish to say.

Between foreign lips to my tongue,
I pray not for your bite back doing my own lip harm.

At the ease of embrace,
Pulling closer to feel textures of her beauty's face.

Lips comimg close to be of one,
Tasting of your taste in my mouth, before reaching your tongue.

We fell into a kiss.

I remember the days where we ruled the world
I remember the moment you first said hello
I remember the start and the soon coming end
And I watch how quickly my heart has becomes dead
The words and the sayings that once filled my mind
The broken pieces all starting to collide
The Once perfect boy that we all knew
Has fallen from his pedestal and has now become taboo
The scars in my soul will remain unseen
Until its finally time to que the final scene
Like fragments of a memory that just past us by
My love for you stands until I die.

Remember the sun as it blazed from above
Remember the stars as we talked about love
Remember the time when you stood up and said I am dying without her so I stayed in her stead
My chest grew tight as more time moved on
Always thinking about her and the things that you did
The treasured memories that I hold dear
Mean nothing to you, so I must shed a tear
Holding on tight like I have nothing to lose
I threw away everything to side by you
But why is it now that life has passed us by
That I stay here in silence as you live on just fine

Do you remember me running my fingers through your hair?
Do you remember me humming sweet tunes into your ear?
Do you remember me holding you gently in my arms as you cried about her and the things you did wrong
Drinking only dulls the pain
A temporary solution I would always explain
As I listened to your woes time and time again
I could surely feel my stomach filling up with dread
Slowly over time I became your number one
Only for that to falter as soon as she became undone
I loved you with my body soul and heart to rest
But why is there still a sinking feeling inside my chest.

I remember all the days that past us by
I remember all the simple things that made you cry
I remember all the nights that I lay awake, talking to you and making sure you were okay
The fun times, the dark times and all the in between
Nothing came between us until the later scene
A offer was made and you took your chance to run
Leaving me behind with nothing left but my love
Desperately clawing and trying to hold you close
Trying to express the words that I forever left unspoke

RELIZATION OF SMALL PERFECT MOMENTS.

It's wood and metal
It's glass and Stone
It's the bird song of the morning
It's fire light and a moment just right

It's the random smile
It's warm hugs
It's soft lips with a soft kiss

It's the laughing child
It's a warm bath on a cold night

It's perfect coffee with a bit of cake
It's love felt through unspoke words
It's that look of longing spoken thru your eyes.

It's comfort given when there is hurt and pain
It's love that I feal when I speak your name.

The grass In my yard is wildly green
What's beyond my fence I do not need.

I speak the words
"This is enough"....
"Yes indeed, this is enough"

This is home