your arms-the thorns of my body so strategically placed;
protecting my vulnerable frame
your lips akin to petals; kiss tender 'n eager
every breath's aura so congenial
your support resembling stem to strengthen and meddle me straight,
yet staying amply meek
your faith is purely fervent and keeps you veraciously planted- just as strong roots
your charming quirks protrude similar to leaves
distributed throughout; nothing shy of perfect
your bold personae is exclusive;
a risqué hue of disposition-
solely invaluable
my darling rose

venom veraciously running through my veins
cowardly hiding from your cordial love calls
relentlessly rounding up their rigid rumors
now hoping to hide my heightened helplessness
diminishing those devious devils, drowning all
a hatred hovers for them, always haunting me
does a *****, almost lover lie? no, no, no--
so sincere, so saintly, so astounding.
i'm wearily weaved in your web
i'm caught.
i'm caught.
i'm caught.

There are stars here!
There are stars here, my friends!
And as I lie among the streetlight-
-cast penumbras staring at the
Pentahedral crystal hammock jungle gym
    I am with them!
I am with them in wonder
In joy in amazement in ecstasy in open-
-eyed revelation of truth
As I realize I was born not
In a city of shadows
But in a city of such blinding brightness
That I could never marvel at the darkness
             and the darkness is beautiful here.

Perfect halogen moonbeam outlines of imperfect
Bodies frolicking in selfprescribed madness
Spinning in the chemical centrifuge
Until lights become light and
            encircles us
       endlessly
Creating its own central outward
                Gravity
As I become you become me
And we sail this endless sea of
                Blackness
And we fall ever deeper into the great
               Singularity
everconsuming everlasting
        All Encompassing
Feeling Grasping Gasping
            Growing
                               Seeing
                                              Darkness.

I­nstruments of depravity
Forged great, twisted
Spinal curvatures held proud
And feared by the mighty
For our words poison their youth
Revealing our shadowy enlightenment
Clarifying with murky water
Promises of intangible tangibilities.
Beautifying chaotic tangled
Masses forming perfection in
         nebulous
       amorphism.
                     Downward, Downward
                        Circling ever downward
                           Spiraling veraciously downward
Downward the holy!
Downward the giving!
Downward unto Heaven!
Downward unto Hell!
Downward unto Creation!
                  Down.
Where the soul becomes concrete
And the concrete vague
                                                 synesthetic
                                                     ­                     bliss.
     The Darkness is beautiful here.

6 September 20l0

I cannot say how many suicidal soliloquies or
diatribes of dialogue I have veraciously verbalized
towards the stark stare looking back at me
from my own reflection.
The cold calculating eyes piercing, penetrating
a completely cumbersome set of armor
deliberately designed, ironically, to protect
those forlorn, forgotten windows to the soul.
Windows, once reliably radiating with life and love,
only now to be desolate, dark.
Alone.
Abandoned.

Like tremulous waves of copper, the sun rises on your face
In the early morning peace
The birds, awakening, sing veraciously to one another, enveloped
In the ambivalence of the falling colors
Blue, yellow, orange, red, and black, all mesh together
In an embossed dew on your cheek
As you part your lips,
Inhaling the fresh taste of the morning air

Belied, you exhale,
Breathing

Knowing.

In friendship dedicated to Geert Verbeke


Oh yes,
I was born
the wrong side
of the track

I never lied about it
was proud of it
wouldn't think of hiding

hat I was born
the other side
of the track

I confessed,
undeniably,
convincingly,
uncontroversially,
irretriev­ably

that I was born
the wrong side
of the track

but the more I insisted,
the more I persisted,
the more I conceded,
the more they said
that I was lying

for, they said,
nobody the wrong side
of the track
can lie that sincerely,

nobody who's able
to play the part
that well

to tell tales
so veraciously
so reliably

can be born
the wrong side
of the track

so now I lie
about not being born
the wrong side
of the track

and lo and behold
now they believe me

for, they say,
nobody born
the wrong side of the track
can lie that well

she is the queen
of the festival
that girl that claimed

to be born
the wrong side
of the track

Oh yes,
I was born
the wrong side
of the track

I never lied about it
was proud of it
wouldn't think of hiding

hat I was born
the other side
of the track

I confessed,
undeniably,
convincingly,
uncontroversably,
irretrieva­bly

that I was born
the wrong side
of the track

but the more I insisted,
the more I persisted,
the more I conceded,
the more they said
that I was lying

for, they said,
nobody the wrong side
of the track
can lie that sincerely,

nobody who's able
to play the part
that well

to tell tales
so veraciously
so reliably

can be born
the wrong side
of the track

so now I lie
about not being born
the wrong side
of the track

and lo and behold
now they believe me

for, they say,
nobody born
the wrong side of the track
can lie that well
In friendship to Geert Verbeke


she is the queen
of the festival
that girl that claimed

to be born
the wrong side
of the track

Love is unto vengeance
when you are
deeply moribund
A thought to faith......of hope
then Love......yet still unfinished

Remembrance
of loss.....a promise
a vow of spirit......souls
in forever a bond

Revenge of the righteous
for all that is known
of treachery's treason
against all that is borne
Of irrational reasoning
denying the truth
unequivocally shown

Hating with
reverent perfection
the source, the thought,
the deed

Pure avenging absolution
despising all veraciously
all in total.....all contemptible

Life again......through vengeance
for Love that was lost
Hearts once beating together
as unseen moments depart
Possibly a waiver....yet
never to fall

Love unto vengeance...
....Revenge unto Love?

No, Unfinished Business
Just Cause.

-R.

(10)
Hlywd

-4MAR

This is a dark palace
Of deliberately dangerous
desires that
abruptly disrupts
and veraciously corrupts
all newcomers.

Plebian minds
mass in manic displays
of their sheepish ways
submitting to
the least alpha
of the American
upper class
crusty *** crew.

The enemy
claims he is
iconoclast
and mysterious,
but he is not
what he purports to be.

On these dismal days
I observe
the hurtful hand
of our material obsession.
I see us become the property
of our possessions.

Yet, with an elegy
of creative energy
I seek to set
all children of
our society free,
writing and  posting
with the same passion
as the romantics
that came before me.

turning bread into toast
peanut butter and jam
the part I miss the most
veraciously out of hand
I’ve been tying to slow it down
I’ve been counting through my breaths
distance found it difficult
to dwarf the pain that’s left

She is a foreign delicacy,
delicious mind
I find
in lines of poetry.

A definite reality,
but I imagine she
scribbles out verses
veraciously,

places each of these
in this internet society,
exchanging altered perceptions
for artificial digital connections;

Full fruit flesh
rich with juicy wetness,
deep thoughts
of deliciousness
as I wonder
about the wonder
of such a creative being.

The plate is mine,
a porcelain palate
open to dine
on one delicate
verb at a time.

To dance and unwind
in the way the words
unroll themselves,
unthreaded yarn
ready to re-roll
and then unfold
once more.

I am a friendly
interloper
there
where
I go to explore
weird worlds
I have never seen before,

and this is
a rough draft
of gratitude
to that fact.

She does not take fools lightly
for a woman her age, she is rather feisty
she does engage in tactical mind wars
most of the time behind closed doors

Violent is Violet veraciously volatile
she can be vengeful and vindictive
very hard to predict
does make men burn their wicks

Exhaustingly manic
she puts many into panic
a craftily skillful woman
as she knows all the tricks

Many a headache she can inflict
or even a brain ache
you have to tip your hat to her
as violent Violet never needs a co-pilot


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris