"vestibules" poems
The pebbles of your core
shine in ruminated scores
like a sorcerer spiking more
unlisting storms and ores
Smile dear rock, from a mile
touch the source of love ice
melt those gorgeous pure eyes
to the specks of the shiny shores
The rocky waves smell of testicles
Vestibules and alleyways of fertility
sung by Cronus as he holds a knife
eager to mutilate from a skyview
The sandy waters sink in Gaia hymns
as the scythe shed the slices of foams
where scattered sperms stays awash
to wish swimmers an eternal beauty
Ohh sacred gods on the aphrodite hills
Spread love unseen, unknown,unheard
stain the precedent of the flowing wind
give me the hint, a seat on the sainted scent
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 2:40 PM UTC
Seven deadly sins, they say,
Those vicious voluptuous ways
We shall all share and spend our days
When the devil is at our door.
For I am guilty of six,
Perhaps more.
And if I plead as guilty
Than I wonder what you say?
"Oh none" said ever so sweetly
In the glowing piety of the day.
But what would we mutter
As the shadows come to play?
And light is but a memory
A silhouette in dark decay.
Would we lust for the last
Vestibules of light?
Would our greed lead us toward
Rage and pride?
Would we fight to the end
For that last bastion of light?
Treading over fallen fables,
All to escape the night?
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
Arguing with disenchanted fractions of lust
Conserved in tributaries of fickle vestibules
Tactical pin ****** tranquilly distribute the crux of all misunderstood and demoralized charlatans
The levee enveloped in a felt like fabric
Dense and coarse
It had a mnemonic quality
Crafting a picture of my childhood bedroom
Mother would be oh so proud
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
lost beyond thoughts of consequence,
bouncing taxis blur the streets of my wanderings,
crowds released from roadside governance
and the stillness gauges frantic adverts splayed.
readiness surges toward academe
in the guile of non-influence;
inspiration settles into future springs
while the flutist pleas for calm;
and systems drag emotively to better corners.
friendships diverge with wiser makings worn.
in living returns the united self.
aside turgid dregs of failure’s learned balm
the written strength of former minds
bead their voices into soulful vestibules
and I crouch gayly in the tent of my desire
viewing unmet worlds swept behind,
saving other time-intended growth
for lissome moments drawing on.
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC
Caught in the maze
Of amazing veins
****** cells excel
Tunneling thru’
Vessels and vestibules
Mind oscillates vacillates
In chaotic amplitude
Like a pendant in pendulum
Of wishes and vices
Divine and devilish
Wise and unwise
Pride and prejudice
Dual mind is in duel
Behind the temple
Brain at home in skull
Will and wit seated well in skill
Rein, rule or roam and ruin
Embroidered and embroiled
Embodied and emboldened
Meditate, mediate,
Cogitate, agitate
Churn and spurn
Nurture the soul within
Explore the radiant light
At the end of the tunnel
Mind, the deity on duty
As mysterious as its Maker,
The Brain behind the brain
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:17 AM UTC
Caught in the maze
Of amazing veins
****** cells excel
Tunnelling thru’
Vessels and vestibules
Mind oscillates vacillates
In chaotic amplitude
Like a pendant in pendulum
Of wishes and vices
Divine and devilish
Wise and unwise
Pride and prejudice
Dual mind is in duel
Behind the temple
Brain at home in skull
Will and wit seated well in skill
Rein, rule or roam and ruin
Embroidered and embroiled
Embodied and emboldened
Meditate, mediate,
Cogitate, agitate
Churn and spurn
Nurture the soul within
Explore the radiant light
At the end of the tunnel
Mind, the deity on duty
As mysterious as its Maker,
The Brain behind the brain
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
The sleepy, starry eyed sky of night
Retires in an odd violet surrender,
Making way for a swiftly emerging dawn
As the viscous black blues of Midnight's celestial shore is waning,
They ebb into waves of apricot, magenta and tangerine hues
A solitary meadowlark perched about the ash grove sits quietly
Watching the remaining vestibules of fog drifting upwards, only to burn away in the heat of the sun
A cool wind blows in from the mountainside, whistling through leaves and rustling tail feathers
The scent of the far off sea tickles the old birds nostrils, holding the promise of silver backed sardine and beach scattered ***** legs
He feels the call of the spirit beneath him, arching his wings he leans into the breeze
A cerulean blue, cloudless skyline illuminates the eyes as he soars amongst evergreen hilltops and pine ladened mountains
His flight pattern as seamless as the air on which he moves,
His mind and body becoming one with the soundless synergy of the skies and the senses,
Bones among feathers,
First was winds, now is breathing.
He is the eternal
Infinite bliss indefinable
Ancient and etheric, a consciousness made complete
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 11:52 AM UTC
we were mentally ill, and mad
in so many beautiful ways
we sat for years - just sat
with that garbage rotting
everything - our brains rotting
(was there a camera behind our bathroom mirror?)
then, there was that night we got lost
in a fog of angel dust
you, crawling on all four, praying to Jesus Christ
throwing up blood and whiskey
begging your Savior for mercy
and we Believed (for a few hours)
(was there a dead man looking through my window?)
the buzzing of banana-flies
buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
grinding of teeth
and that hysterical laughter from the TV next door
all the muzak in the vestibules of hell
(were they laughing at us?)
oh, Lord! what perfect panic!
i painted. painted like my life depended on it
they were all on the canvas - friends, family, and neighbors
hundreds of white eyeballs
all looking upon us with disgust
(could they hear our thoughts?)
now,
we are two ugly, screaming faces
drifting unchecked in time
onward, paranoia!
onward, terrible fear!
onward, my dear friend!
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 3:34 AM UTC
Grievous
I hold you as the chameleon with his spring-trigger bone
Holds his tongue
And I will catch you as a fist
I will lick the stench from your odor sacks
as a skunk
All those creepy little fragments
bugs in the system;glitched codes
they are shackled souls in a microsecond arc-length
of the universal
Prodding the dirt
and the worms
as stars
How about all the spice trees?
The many different species of food glitter
they make the buds sparkle, they are thinking of the taste
of umami, of sour, of patchwork gaze
the cooked vestibules of bone
the marrow, seeping into the stew
The pepper trees are smoked
equinoctial bonfires
You and I are yet to be cooked through
A taxi in the trader joes parking lot
Big repetitive 7's splattered across its paneling
I won't forget when i'm drunk or inebriated somehow
The tree in the center of town is lit up with LEDs
Branches curling like worms
You are Pharos, you are the great celestial beam
you are the crescent moon, thin as a sleeve
and the hot taste of batter on your breath
the way you let my Guinness cool off next to the space-heater
and give me yogurt from the local townsfolk
Everything is creamy, you said.
But i don't like to hear that
It's a steel rod into my brain, that.
I am a simple Vishnu Hare Brahma
I do not have any purpose but to be enlightened
and worshiped for my powerful odors
and a four-chambered bowel
that makes the turn easier for worms.
2
Pitiful
You are the hopeless pod
the many wildebeest, crossing their annuals
through twirling water-crocs,
Lion Prides
Leopards shifting within the brush
Bacterial infections from ***** tusks
Strange metal boxes
No 7's on this side
I want to blow the ******* skulls off of anything
that aims for you, sweet mare
45-70
Will literally send chunks of it into orbit
Lion or Turtle or window or Children
The most godly thing is a bullet
And the streams of blood that will seed a new ravine
and seep the next feed of riverrun
Will you be mine, then?
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 4:39 AM UTC
Eternally yours but for a moment
How could I be anything but?
The sands of time have shifted you
So incredibly far away
And I can do nothing
Eternally yours forever and a day
Living each second hoping you’ll stay
How could I cope without my second half?
A fruitless endeavor
Staining my Oversoul
Eternally yours, never, no way
Making, taking, parasites ages-old
Vestibules for love to fill with gold
Leaving room for nothing else inside
Stating the obvious, once again...
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 9:55 PM UTC
He loves to hear the rapturous whistle blowing clearing his mind of dark despairs,
to breathe in the scented whoosh of the slowing wheels
as he stands on the platform watching the arrival of another train.
Coast Starlight, Sunset Limited, Southwest Chief, each with a name.
He joins the other watchers standing there without shame
to greet the wave of an engineer or porter, sunshine or rain.
It's the pageantry.
It's the arrival and departure majesty.
It's the impromptu theater soothing a soul's troubling pain.
There are times he books a Pullman berth, its pillow he snuggles
to lose all the world's cares and struggles,
while rocking so blessedly to the clickety-clack refrain.
One such morning enthralled by seeing America's historic prairies
outside his window, he sets forth prancing through noisy unbalancing vestibules that make him even more merry!
till he reaches the car where like a king he'll reign.
Breakfast in the sun-splashed diner, pancakes and ham,
joking with the headwaiter, and being lavished with free side dishes by the cook, and smiling broadly like a suitor when a lady blushes
from a compliment he makes on her gams.
Though never too busy to sneak a look at the lunch menu where he decides he'll order later the hot meatloaf sandwich with gravy on a wheat bun of 7 "healthy" grains.
Late afternoon in the club car, a Coke by his side
he asks the guy opposite, "Enjoying the ride?"
"You bet! Beats the hassle with planes."
The stranger continues, "Going far?" he asks.
"No. Here and there. Keeping active since my wife passed."
"Ah, nobody wins the life game."
"Honey, the kids want a hamburger"-a stunning blonde stands over the guy who rises, shakes hands and says goodbye.
The train watcher feels a loss he can't explain.
But the lulling vistas of farmland and the soothing whistle blowing such pleasing keys
soon abolish all traces of unease.
He knows when arriving at his destination he'll be the first to ride back again down the all-healing railway lane.
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 11:17 PM UTC
.
There behind the thicket
where the beasties come to play
Lurking in the underbrush
and thorny mass decay
Drooling on the pathway
when the blood begins to seep
Eating pieces of your heart,
the fears they long to reap
Carving out a warning
in the dark archaic stone
Arches built of victims,
weathered vestibules of bone
Gathered neath the shadows
falling bleak the universe
Twisted, barely visible
the message fills the curse
***Dare not seek what leads the eyes,
upon this sanctuary tread
None shall live to hear the cries,
echoes fall among the dead
Follow forth illumined way
truth to be your wandered path
Lead with kindness on display
or face the wicked aftermath***
There behind the thicket
where the beasties come to play
It’s best this evening to beware
and look the other way
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 9:57 AM UTC
The ordinates concealed in your infinitesimal rationale
Insufficiencies portraying vestibules in your feverish attires
Every new soul you see makes you feel homeless
Dizzying altitudes you feel inside the depth of cavities
Indifference on pain and sufferings you crave for
And,
Hell; you feel inside grandeurs of perspectives
Hate; for the dearth of adulation on you
Liken Gaia could have never taught you of your frailty
Postulation of Karma and de-carnation of meanings made you converted
You were on the path of revolt
Against, say, cosmos!
Every symbolic gestures remind me of your meddlings
Penultimate; utter grievance of never ending poignancy
The night sky could have never baffled about your existence
Palpitation could have never made you shiver
But you have cried,
Of your loneliness!
Say,
A tiny fraction of clairvoyance I gave
Pulled you down into the puddle of wanderings
Instigation of a melody; created the symphony
A mere touch; drenched you into the silken lake
I spoke for your heart and you praised
Then, I gave you love but I got caged
How could I have done whatever you wished?
Since nobody knows,
The culminating dichotomy of your pantheistic ideas,
And of a maggot growing inside you
Breathless desires governing your feet,
And the time falsifying your plutonic ancestry
Mosaic glittering over your virtuous self,
And the tapestry of vanity covering your abysses
Depleting number of Hordes and Tartars fighting for your existence,
And devalued meaning of your modern-self
All those songs that never could soothe you
Teeny panting of your blasphemous heart
Multitude of distances you travelled
Series of condemnation bouncing between you and me
Your fleeting poverty
Your affections on materials
Like you die the death of pertinence
Love shall never please you
Nonchalant, over the,
Embargo you created on the faith
And the game you created on the bliss
But you shall never win
Since, you are a mere human soul
Bless you!!
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 7:52 AM UTC
the writers block entrances to stone vestibules
life congeals and appeals to those despicable few
creaky mattress, true, but we flew by burnt capitals
the grass's dew dried up at four o'clock in the morning
we learnt the vastness of our own chaotic complexities
it's impractical, doling out the pasts to our moping guests
insight into their creature comforting me, smiling languidly
he saw those hooligans dance above his crumbling tombstone
impregnated by the rain, headlight shone into impending gloom
waiting, moaning, mourning in a deadlocked, deadweighted room
we're inclined to drown in our own questions, in irreconcilable fate
and a hateful frown, the tasteful waste adorning those latest to bloom
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
the writers block entrances to stone vestibules
life congeals and appeals to those despicable few
creaky mattress, true, but we flew by burnt capitals
the grass's dew dried up at four o'clock in the morning
we learnt the vastness of our own chaotic complexities
it's impractical, doling out the pasts to our moping guests
insight into their creature comforting me, smiling languidly
he saw those hooligans dance above his crumbling tombstone
impregnated by the rain, headlight shone into impending gloom
waiting, moaning, mourning in a deadlocked, deadweighted room
we're inclined to drown in our own questions, in irreconcilable fate
and a hateful frown, the tasteful waste adorning those latest to bloom
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
Death springs a new day basking in the breeze
In solemn moments lets pause to think of a place
A far off castle in the mountains away from it all
A valiant knight lived in the structure of it's dwelling
Those days of old where mere men had a noble demise
A beautiful maiden was in waiting for her knight
He would often fight for the cause of stregnth and dignity
The draw bridge where the castle stood had a very unique aura
A mystery of sort sought up in the vast array of crowned nobility
For the king on his thrown was humble yet greedy
Always would take care of himself caring nothing for the needy
A valiant knight was concerned about the kings trust
Often they would disagree on who it was to serve
A joker came in front of the king one day with a magic wand
Waving the wand in the air then there floated ivy everywhere
For the court jester was a fool in the making of his legacy
The maiden would often come forth and see
For she treasured a red rose that was plucked sometime before
Cherished the calling of her stature to the glory of the throne
A valiant knight would often sing sweet songs in the night
Had a following of village people that would sit before his feet
Having a way of words that he would often share
The castle was filled with dragons and warlocks searching for love
A cause to be brave amidst uncertainty of the kingdom
The legacy of golden capulets filled ardent vestibules
Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 6:32 PM UTC
A reddened messianic figure babbling inwardly,
A drunken guardian shining a petulant light
Doomed gymnasts performing blasé sequences in wainscoted rooms of unverifiable vintage
Half gassed pigeons circumnavigating the vestibules of burning trains,
A white noise amphitheater in the kingdom of heaven, an audience of oxygen impoverished capitulates heir thoracic ducts screaming,
Delirious children stalking sickened cats, Their feline ***** dripping from their mouths
My skull gassed and pliant Government of the absolved
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 7:50 AM UTC
My brain is a buzzy fuzzy ******* chaos crashing lashing vestibules at the fringes of cathdreals self imposed upon the walls scribble muddle tuddling funnels skating elating trying to get this and all any of all to make sense. Idosyncracies is all i am composed of as i compost tangents into piles of 25 combonation summurize the total sum of more ****** tons of love covered ****
The pots spinning centifrugal mixing the frugal.
unicorn horn exposed and raw vibrations painful magic casting shamful spells to massivly masochistic split up shelves organized in arms legs and brains. jars of letters jars of get better tools and drills to dull the silence, blood rushing ears crushing pressuring waves caressing lessons of other rappers listening listening lisntening loading up vocabulary cant **** canaries ******* hell here it goes again brain flow wild hell bells crashing colliding collapsing pillars supporting the sub laminate mantles buildings built cracking the crust devils in a pretty suits slitting throats of these ***** holy ******* hell i cant ..
Im possessed
.
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
*she shone through our eyes
into the diamond sky
a light both subtle and quiet
yet bright as the full moon
at the dead of night
in vestibules of the mind
we keep our sights trained on the prizes
and often miss the surprises life has in store for us
bus rides through south american streets
alleyways and the insufferable heat
meet the other travelers in the space between
dirt and music
shirtless toothless
and ruthless
we alight
our insides
i am coming home
to my throne
i stole these words from moaning prophets
left with nothing but their bones*
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 10:31 AM UTC
morning
a new day approaches
whispers down the corridor
I hear my inner conscience call
a challenge to be free is a quest of time
to frolic in the ambiance of my mind
with all your weight it falls on me it brings me down
cascading water fall on a brisk hot morning
angels frolic as they wish together
hearts unfold through its duration
saw the vision through a pathway in a forest
the path was heavy with leaves and rocks
sullen brevity torn in the circle of its frenzy
pillars of solitude dash the mindset again
in fortitude we have built this sequence of thought
in the center of the forest there is a door
hallow ivy in pictoral resolve
we will reach are ****** in this place
hauntingly surreal of fixed vestibules alone
with all your weight it falls on me it brings me down
there is a portion of value in this lands fixation
hearing the noise of owls in its vast domain
yet I sought its perfect peace amidst a place of unrest
even the gates of Hell can't stand against this place
a reason to belive so much more but what ?
we ponder its escape for is it an illusion or that of a reality ?
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 1:41 AM UTC
*Nocturnal , lurid color propagates evil
The moon taps immorality as depraved
lecherous men reveal their contempt for the Almighty
Tonights train howls like Beelzebub -
unleashed , screaming throughout the vestibules of Lust* ...
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 3:09 AM UTC