The typewriters tap,
with a rat-a-tat-tat,
like a fourth estate rap
to provide us the pap
(that serves as a snack with a rat-a-tat-tat)
in a newspaper scrap
crammed with meaningless crap
from the editor's yap
(spewing flimflamy flak, booming rat-a-tat-tat)
after gashing a gap
in the daily recap
with a snip in a snap-
sounding thundery clap
crackng rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat.

And the talking heads speak
with a rat-a-tat-tat,
of the news of the week,
tweaking tongue in the cheek
(with a click and a clack like a rat-a-tat-tat),
thus ignoring critique
'cause they're mild and too meek
in the midst of the reek
to report of the wrack (except rat-a-tat-tat)
whilst the pundits (oblique
when protecting the chic
of the upper class clique
at the top of the peak)
chatter rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat.

The NRA ghouls
plug a rat-a-tat-tat
while their blood money tools
fill the Hill’s vestibules
(where deceit behind drapes drips a rat-a-tat-tat),
spreading folly that fuels
frenzied hands of young fools
bringing guns into schools
(at the drop of a hat there's a rat-a-tat-tat
splashing blood in warm pools)
for now anarchy rules
(which the hype ridicules
'til the temperature cools)
hailing rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat.

Lawless cops, cutting loose
with a rat-a-tat-tat
spraying bullets profuse
without any excuse
(just a split second splat with a rat-a-tat-tat),
splay a rattled recluse
like a Thanksgiving goose
gushing cranberry juice
from six slugs in the back (with a rat-a-tat-tat).
To redress such abuse,
bend the branch of a spruce
with a neck in a noose
while Death's drums beat diffuse’
rolling rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat.

War brings freedom to all
with a rat-a-tat-tat
(well, excluding the thrall
with fear, facing the wall
[ often smacked with a bat, throbbing rat-a-tat-tat ],
until feeling the call
to creep out of the kraal
biting back with a gall
[ with a *** for a tat and a rat-a-tat-tat ],
or to mangle and maul
if still able to crawl
and be part of the brawl
in a freak free-for-all,
midst a rat-a-tat-tat and a rat-a-tat-tat).

Holy warmongers praise,
with a rat-a-tat-tat,
any soldier that slays
and all rockets that raze
(the drones zoom with a vroom and a rat-a-tat-tat)
leaving smoky arrays
of gray ghosts in the haze
cloaking mute cabarets
(hushed, the hip and the hop, by the rat-a-tat-tat)
while ol’ Cerberus bays
with mankind in his gaze,
so society prays  
as it rots and decays
(Satan's trumpets of doom blare a rat-a-tat-tat)
until one of these days
in a flash through the maze
mighty mushrooms will blaze
with invisible  rays,
fin’lly braising the craze
of the rat-a-tat-tat,
   and the
            rat-
                 a-
                    tat-
                          tat.

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

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?

projective geometry used to get me *****
all those positions

,palmately pink and ever green
breathing vasts of void my dark heart laughs in gulping wholes
moaning plenums, hooded over boundless venus-vim

now i'm tired of infinite lines
too many shapes to fit in
too wide, too tight, sharp or empty

,too many ways to come

this was meant to be a disclaimer before a collection of poems

,a way to unclutter
                angst of public  
                              lexicality,
years  after  ­ 'explaining'
                  Samir's 'polygonal me'
                                                to only-me-myself-i-was,
to then indulge this analogic soundlessness...
             
        as i disengage

i can't write without planning on it
i can't write about  writing  without feeling like a fool
                                                            ­                 (,Lear is the only one
that saves me now
                       as now i am the Fool,
                                                 dividing hearts along
in storm-***-love-like railway-*****
                                 steaming full of fiberoptic nooks,
chaining spectra-cogs of a good-will-spirit-****:
                                       concatenated hard-ons every word
each thought a pulsate vulval dream awake,
                                                redichotom­izing lives
                         of shining mons my Athene forehead
                                                      forging fountain thought,
                          urethral letting-beings-be...
freely, my chubby comes back to me
                                         prone before the prostate god)

,in other words
              the same,
                     i cannot write as other than a fool
for
why should i repeat the abject horror of the world?
isn't despair a bit.. overdone at this point?!
and why should i write just the happy!? i'm not in denial, am i?
or am i in denial
about insisting on being in denial absolutely?
--like mind-only schools...
(O the uselessness of words, dismissing patriarchal vigor with yet another wave, the 'brine-milk' ends unending,
forever Femen liberating us of words,
replaced with Fragilaria,
wasting diatomic seas and waterways,
depleted algae gone, extinct: metaphysiCalListo-craticality aborted on a broken Amazonic spear,
our bodies, bodied-hearts, finally won as ours, across Alternaqueeria, fully lucid human-species spanned
i blink my tears and blur my gaze at weeping Pleides

the plan was this: painful poem, pleasure poem, painful poem, happy poem... **** poem, sterile poem, carnal poem, priggish poem, punk poem, open poem, confessing poem, eros poem, **** poem, 'obscene-attractive' poem...
to cleanse inverted mainstreams of my steady-rhythmed pratitpaksha-bhavanams; not "poem, poem, poem, poem..."
but a taut poeming in and out of poems of poemed poiesis prosing poets free to **** again in Issa's snow, or *** on Chiera's cumaholic Shards.

pendulum left, pendulum right; then two pendulums, then none; then one that swings right and left at the same time; then one that spins all the way around, but only clockwise; then one counter-clockwise; then one both clockwise and counterclockwise; then one timeless, then one imaginary one... full of infinite little ones... to represent all the pendulata in the universe as experienced through minor parts of self.. itself as universal part-whole-parcel self-hood spanning star-births yet to come...
,
,
,but it's time to eat a 'square' meal
take off my job-search tie, my peddled lies
                   forget the sunrise vestibules we sipped from,
                                           sleeping by commoding cows

and pretend i'm not dicking myself over
                                                          by­ retreating
into cryptic spectionism-voids again
                                               all seagull-divert-adverts, play
of frozen youth abstrused,
                      self-referred referring loosed
                                          staggered worse than marginalia
no single species 'seagull' singing here

(Manuscript of Poet Mario William Vitale)


From 1993-1997 - Attended State University in Connecticut,Attempted plays : Tartuffe, Miracle Of St. Anthony and Balm in Gieade,( His poetic aspirations had  in 1989 from submitting his first poem entitled, "Remembrance Of A Loved One"- (Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum)Next from 1989-1997 ( Wrote primarily for Poetry.com and The International Library Of Poetry),* Received editors choice award in 1997 for poem, " A Beacon Of Light ",(1998) Sent poetic manuscript to N.Y. Time Magazine and Chief Editor " John Hyland".Back with rave reviews !* ( From 1999-2008:Had adapted a real keen sense of style for writing poetry: ( 1999- Sent Editorial to:New Man Magazine for the Passion of Christ Movie;Sent followup letter to company with poetry platform information attached,* 2000-2007 : Magazine : ( Catholic) Maries Rose Ferron Magazine submitted poem" Beacon Of Light", which had excellent editorial reviews as the outset !2008- Wrote poem entitled: ( The Heavy Cross) to Poetry.com* Achieved Poetry status of work of Excellence in writing from the Academy Of American Poetry in which still having received rank and status as a member of Academy;* ( The Connecticut Poetry Society)* Short story submitted entitled, "China Dog Ray" submitted to Virginia WritersQuarterly, West Virginia, Also having member status on their board of Poetry.*


( Attribute Poetry to an ever increasing love of God and his unconditional love that he has for us in return,Thankfulness toward family and friends.( To our past ancestors who fought to uphold freedom that far too many of us take for granted ?One needs a pure heart that's fixed on truth,This is in order to withstand the true great test of time !Life is way too short,Press toward the goal or mark of our high calling that is in Christ Jesus The Lord !~My contempoarry artists include that of ellan Bryant Voight, Kay Ryan and carl Phillips.Which all three are Participants in the Academy Of American Poetry.* Having been a member since 2006,My work reflects the likes of past poets such as C.S.Lewis, Hawthorne and edgar Allen Poe.Most of my work reflects with the values of religious beliefs intact,( In my personal view it is essential in demonstrating a real heart of creativepassion !The reader I believe will benefit by my artistic style of development in a verypositive light.)To further the need for poetry to become more main stream,

Mario Vitale was born in Bristol , Ct Has developed a skill for writing poetry in the free verse form. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform.

Vitale has taken the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as John Ashbery & Major Jackson.
Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct.
Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet.

Mario William Vitale
1 Winfield Drive
Wolcott, ct 06716

A Beacon Of Light
Written by: Mario Vitale
A beacon of light to a much hurting world in need !

Can't help but to claim..,

Some sense of identity,

Stregnth and encouragement only come from above !



Amidst in the distance, the trapped seagull..,

Lieth frightened but still yet adrift !
In a most vengeful fashion striking the passing fish,
A true source of hope,
Yet a most triumphal beam !

This beacon of light shineth forth,
Passerby's can err' escape the helping hand..,

To the most sparkling of radiance !


(2)Thanksgiving Dinner by Mario Vitale
Home for the holiday from New Orleans,
with Mother and Father at the tiny
drop leaf, brown rosewood, mahogany
table with the gold, grinning claw feet;
Father, choler- red-in the-face, short-
sleeved white shirt and cane, says the blessing
as Mother brings in the turkey and cranberry.
Then Mother asks, “Won’t you have more?” and father :
“Do you think Moll Flanders was a *****?”
(I have suffered and bleached my hair blond.)
I am silent before their replies.
Mother sighs. “I can scarce speak to her.”
And Father, too, quotes Shakespeare. (I am thin
as paper and the rose- colored bowl
of blown glass sitting on the silver stand,
half- filled with water.)
“How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is
to have a thankless daughter”


(3)

Song of Spring
Today I heard a robin sing
heralding the coming spring
A song of exultation to the sky
an ode to earth's awakening

I saw a willow on the hill
It's branches greening in the sun
and all the earth seemed hushed & still
sleeping streams began to run

I heard a softly rising breeze
whispering through the grass
singing through the still bare trees
waiting winter's chill to pass

I saw the sun, so bright and warm
warming the earth after the rain
the buds and leaves, no frost to harm
at least, at last, it's spring again.

(4)

The Ancients
It's my last day with the old giants
In mourning I hike the lost trails,
sniffing the aroma of the bark,
that cinnamon of the forest
Under tepees of wood
in a membrane of shadows,
I stalk the earth, its mammal traces,
its elusive tracks,
to sit on a fallen log
where spiders macramé,
moss sloping to my knees
unaware of invisibles within,
grubbing in their tunnels
A lizard taps my foot,
responding, I muse to its touch,
my thoughts like Indian visions,
And when daylight mushrooms into night,
and an owl hoots from cedar,
I still sit with a lizard on my shoe
Huddled with the ancients of the woods


(5)

Epiphany
Written by: Mario Vitale
It clings to the cliffed shore,
to the wintered face of the thistle path,
to the fingers of the old man's glove
as he waves his memory homeward

In that breath between come and go
she moves up from the bay;
gold turns her stride,
the line of her dress,
the soft sea pulling at her feet

When he reaches out
and the frail birds fly
and the sun and the sky
have married deep into the sea, it clings

Even as his shadow threads retreat,
it clings, even now as it dissolves to mist


(6)

A Return Home, Only Time Will Tell
Written by: Mario Vitale
Oh blessed hope !

Both hardly a believable dream,
Sweltering heat with bloodshed in the street...
Send the troops home !
There is no clear reason for them to roam..,

These are desolate times !
For we have chosen ill faded rhymes..,
The casualties are enormous ?
For a stated cause that clearly atrocious..,

A mother's cry as the door chime rings,
A vanishing salute to freedom as the church choir sings !
Let us look above to all the heavenly love..,
Merciful one, take this chip off my shoulder..,

Stop the senseless fighting before our dear nation grows a bit colder,
Suddenly, seeds were dropped out of a farmers bag,
In time roots spring up fresh out of the fertile soil...
As the sun heats up,


Time will tell when this harvest will soon boil...
In the vast game of life,
One's time is so very brief !
The soul yearns for its' heavenly relief..,

Share with others who may want to turn over a brand new leaf..,

Time will tell of the true importance of helping one another,
To never give into the finish line..,
Nor harsh criticism that our society puts out !
Like a famous fighter in his final bout !

Time will tell of the return home,
To the open arms of a loved one !

(7)

A Valiant Knight
Written by: Mario Vitale
A Valiant Knight

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


(8)
Hampton Beach

The smell of fresh fry doe
Time had elapsed playing at the casino
Fresh lobster with a side order of fries
Those spacious wonderful sky's
Down at the shell the continental were playing
A walk by the lady of a statue in waiting
Flip flops and the sound of laughter
A playground for kids in the middle
The boardwalk with seagulls flocking over head
Fire works in the midnight air with a cheer


(9)

God's World
It is raining again.
Summer will be over before it ever gets here
Thunder rolls far away, drops
hit the windshield, the sky turns gray

The Sunflower, the blue
Delpinium, the white
Stinkwood drink the moisture
greedily. The green and silver

leaves of the Aspens sparkle as the rain hits them, and the
wind turns them round and round
The creek flows on, oblivious to
the change in the weather.

A break in the clouds allows a bit of sun to hit the side of a
towering mountain
Three cows slowly wend their way homeward. It is dusk.
The gray clouds lift and the sun bursts through,

before sliding behind the hills for the night
It is God's World. He gives it to us to enjoy and to share with each other


(10)

Jake's House
There was a man whose name was Jake
Who had a house upon the lake
Every morning he would wake
And for breakfast have a piece of cake

He had a private fishing hole;
He always used a long cane pole
He fried his fish on red hot coal
And served it in a great big bowl

For a pet, he had a cat


(11)

In The Zone
Written by: Mario Vitale
In The Zone

whispers...
through the dark deranged portals you evoke fear
filled with angelic fervor on it's textual base
yet we dig much deep then ever before

cries in the dark will light the spark of what we need to know
still we stand idle as the average novice introduces its spell
along again then the sadness evokes a newer feeling
dwindling through the vain extraction of the never world

we visually see a flash then a new day approaches
on the lawn two lovers having passionate ***
the screams of vile extreme explodes throughout
perhaps this is the place where Nero tread

yet again I sit alone in my house now huddled in the corner
the twilight sun has tainted my inner vision
the howls of Satanic laughter gives a piercing shriek through
a candle was lit by the edge of my bed

One can remain lax in the quietness of the moment
yet again the setting of the sun
a new day has begun as we embark on the moment
Does death hurt you the most or is it fear

You can equate logic through a firm grasp of the hand
whispers again...
then a faint cry,
we construct living pyramids to honor the dead

A stroke of luck an the impulse ensues
onto so much more but for what
are we grasping for straws what are we searching for ?
quietness again this time I'm in the zone

as if zombie creatures with viscous long fangs that bite
dripping blood off side we run away to hide
no one questions anymore no one has a voice
alone one last time yet feelings of grandeur awake

to the message of hope that spills from the sky
a challenge to be free is a question of time
eyes with spots digging holes in a pool of blood
Satan laughing again spreads his wings

Suddenly I awake but to what ?


(12)

An End Of The Age Of Innocence Part III
Written by: Mario Vitale
In our fast paced twentieth century world..,

We oft' have neglected to stop to smell the roses,
Oft' we used to bow our heads silently to pray,
As we reflect back to the sixties is had launched a pad to rebellion !
With a vast amount of liberal bias and thinking,

No wonder why our nation is sinking..,

Sinking amidst a cuss pool of mere morality..,
For now it is a quite different time,
A very unique but different type of day..,
An end of the age of innocence,

One hath been enlightened..,

From seeking truth,
Some fresh out of a garbage can..,
Yet for Gods' sake,
He hath such an amazing plan !

Hence, to shun the broad road,

Yet to seek to venture in the narrow..,
Such as a distant bird in flight !
You might see this creature venture out at night ?
Of the Eagle nor the Sparrow..,

It used to mean something to have a sense of common courteous..,
To hold open the door for your neighbor ?
Yet for the time being we relent and waiver..,
Would you prefer another taste of a certain ice cream flavor ?

To ponder we must be content with who we are in the inside..,

Nor, a mere fancy suit or blazing sport's car,
Life is a roller coaster..,
In what you do while busy making other plans..,
Finding solace among the height of nature.,

Such to think at what is quite simple,
As a young child reflects on his or her poster board,
Playing with their magic crayons..,
For in eternity it is such a very long time !

Take heed in what you do,

Now is the expectant hour !
What will one choose to do ?
There can be no place nor need for any compromise,
Within it's vast perpetual spectrum !

One just can't put a price tag on a genuine but unique heart !

Hence, with honest integrity..,
The time for change is today !

(13)

He Was There
by Mario William Vitale

From the inner silence of the lamb he was there
In welcoming to the world to share
Within the multiple of words the mouth speaks
As a heart beats through the passage of time
To every poem that was ever written
To every burden ever lifted
To rivers crossing where people living
Sometimes loving other moments giving
In storms that were outside brewing
What is the significance of this love
In painted pictures from above
To every soldier in a battle
To every cow amidst the cattle
Not a second glance at any real romance
A field of dreams throughout our head
From both fire and ice will make you think twice
Perhaps another chance at a roll of the dice
When every kingdom comes thy will be done
Shadows in the shining morn if there's a rose it bears a thorn,
He was there in every circumstance
When they tried to throw stones at her
He was there drawing a line with his finger in the sand
It is my hope that some day all will understand
A glance at the past will tell us of our future
Amidst the inner pain & uncertainty
Through shadows in a field of dreams
In moments of solace amidst the pain
A light moved out upon the street outside
A day that wasn't meant to be
Thorn crown was pulled upon his head
Those shouts of intense anger from the mob
There was only one who would help him back on his feet,
A light that brought only a few to greet
Let us not run away & hide
Each one of our sins was placed on that cross
To lose the battle now would end in tragic loss
Father please forgive them for they know not what they do
He said the prayer now the rest is up to you
That cross that broke a sinful world apart
With his blood-soaked crown with spear in side
To show the whole world he had nothing to hide
The summoned cry brought about healing in the sky
Watch the free angelic dove fly!



(14)

Momma Of Pearls
by Mario William Vitale

Since there's nothing I could find
That was worth giving you,
I sat down to think a while
And write a line or two
If I had a magic wand
I'd wave it just for you,
And give you anything you'd like
No matter how many or few
If I could give you back the years
You so willingly gave to me
I'm sure that you spend them over again
The same as they used to be
Remember when those days and nights
Instead of going to the fair
I'd always say tell me again
The story of the three little bears
I tried to get a strawberry pie
But they were out of season
Then I thought of gold

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.

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

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

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

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!

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...

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?

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.

the mere notion of the past brings us to a near future
whispers in the window stand out very credible
roasted as if a turkey basin in the oven
the water lies beneath a brook under a bridge
there are frogs under the embankment
among the marsh there's a sloppy mess
twisted chords of ivory line the trussle
i stand alone frightened but yet alive intact
this is the dream I had among fallen elf drop soup bowls
filled with the residue of cheddar in its taste

as we listen close to the river we stand still & deliver
Poindexter the black cat comes out in heat to neck
reflections in the pale woman with a shawl
bristled in her hair and in the lining of her teeth
beep beep hush hush no need to rush rush'
spark the withermint through the teeth
stand speak & well discovered sweep
a red box wth an opening in it
new apparel

avoidance dig in the cascading sheets
through a window beneath its doorbell
silently etched against the machine
slow attraction take its attraction,

to link ourselves beyond the shore
wandering in the city
spot sided cleanser
near its miracle mile

get it you will a picture
you and I enhanced by a kiss
its a hit or miss
protect me through sullen brevity

awake through the window we have nursed its tight soul
above the hysteria a rotten bowl
stockings and pajamas with a ring in my nose
accident of disaster

build a wall faster
wait in the fire
burning well desire
Mr. Crowley hit the rug so faster

in the distance laugher down to the wire
kiss me a sister fixture
traffic will stop us
a beer or its crust

to treasure it as its must
An on again off again spell
charge away from the commotion
set my career in motion

Ozzy named it
others rant to hate this
Dio had almost missed
muse hover kiss us
jay walk through the driveway explode;
spot shine laid bare noise to receive
while a pillow you squeeze
Mr. Crowley fell below the extreme
easy does the notion of secret reverance
Socth Whiskey sought in motion

stay nearer draw there from cosmic tent we make...
listen to the wind blow dosen't really mater to me
sky line out of a great significance vital design rom behind
stay with me treasure the sea beyond those means
falling apart at the seams in shattered glass of fate
love is fate blown into a desire
folow me dear to the oceanic sphere
treasure m dear crawling to the stairs
we shall make you on the other side
no reason to hide
tease me believe in me going to the magazine
all of the place cause by fate,
tomorrow sick and tire on sofa
blend it like yogurt

beneath the rubble throughout
tumble thimble want to bee
sought through of curtain wanna be
circle through the defiance years to see
pudding in the cup just wait and see
there look at parting vestibules in there distance
I exist as a vapor then I am no more

yesterday is a given day today we seek not be this way
chosen in the vast amber to the knowledge we need to gain
labor in the sun have a bit of fun...,
chose the distance begin to run
Aura star take you very far
the horse will explain,
such as the Willow tree

distant to believe
parting of the leaves
in every source to believe
shake dreams from your hair.my innocent one
chose the day to have a bit of fun
Aura Star...

ice with snow feelings swept you ought to know
today I stand as a merchant swept in the Tumble Bee
chase past the trees quest to believe
look to the beauty one last time
arm be with harmony given one last timean was hungry
cheli bent to you
teach the willingness
throughout the wilderness
luckily in a beem
social be wanna see
chock after a wilful dream
trapped from the body
love & spoonful to the end
given life in a positive clean
closset kingdom
with words that crumble
far from belief chorus
to pledge to more request
day after day with more respect
I'm a big kid now
cherish a red old rose
that was picked a time before

the mere notion of the past brings us to a near future
whispers in the window stand out very credible
roasted as if a turkey basin in the oven
the water lies beneath a brook under a bridge
there are frogs under the embankment
among the marsh there's a sloppy mess
twisted chords of ivory line the trussle
i stand alone frightened but yet alive intact
this is the dream I had among fallen elf drop soup bowls
filled with the residue of cheddar in its taste

as we listen close to the river we stand still & deliver
Poindexter the black cat comes out in heat to neck
reflections in the pale woman with a shawl
bristled in her hair and in the lining of her teeth
beep beep hush hush no need to rush rush'
spark the withermint through the teeth
stand speak & well discovered sweep
a red box with an opening in it
new apparel

avoidance dig in the cascading sheets
through a window beneath its doorbell
silently etched against the machine
slow attraction take its attraction,

to link ourselves beyond the shore
wandering in the city
spot sided cleanser
near its miracle mile

get it you will a picture
you and I enhanced by a kiss
its a hit or miss
protect me through sullen brevity

awake through the window we have nursed its tight soul
above the hysteria a rotten bowl
stockings and pajamas with a ring in my nose
accident of disaster

build a wall faster
wait in the fire
burning well desire
Mr. Crowley hit the rug so faster

in the distance laugher down to the wire
kiss me a sister fixture
traffic will stop us
a beer or its crust

to treasure it as its must
An on again off again spell
charge away from the commotion
set my career in motion

Ozzy named it
others rant to hate this
Dio had almost missed
muse hover kiss us
jay walk through the driveway explode;
spot shine laid bare noise to receive
while a pillow you squeeze
Mr. Crowley fell below the extreme
easy does the notion of secret reverance
Socth Whiskey sought in motion

stay nearer draw there from cosmic tent we make...
listen to the wind blow dosen't really mater to me
sky line out of a great significance vital design rom behind
stay with me treasure the sea beyond those means
falling apart at the seams in shattered glass of fate
love is fate blown into a desire
folow me dear to the oceanic sphere
treasure m dear crawling to the stairs
we shall make you on the other side
no reason to hide
tease me believe in me going to the magazine
all of the place cause by fate,
tomorrow sick and tire on sofa
blend it like yogurt

beneath the rubble throughout
tumble thimble want to bee
sought through of curtain wanna be
circle through the defiance years to see
pudding in the cup just wait and see
there look at parting vestibules in there distance
I exist as a vapor then I am no more

yesterday is a given day today we seek not be this way
chosen in the vast amber to the knowledge we need to gain
labor in the sun have a bit of fun...,
chose the distance begin to run
Aura star take you very far
the horse will explain,
such as the Willow tree

distant to believe
parting of the leaves
in every source to believe
shake dreams from your hair.my innocent one
chose the day to have a bit of fun
Aura Star...

ice with snow feelings swept you ought to know
today I stand as a merchant swept in the Tumble Bee
chase past the trees quest to believe
look to the beauty one last time
arm be with harmony given one last timean was hungry
cheli bent to you
teach the willingness
throughout the wilderness
luckily in a beem
social be wanna see
chock after a wilful dream
trapped from the body
love & spoonful to the end
given life in a positive clean
closset kingdom
with words that crumble
far from belief chorus
to pledge to more request
day after day with more respect
I'm a big kid now
cherish a red old rose
that was picked a time before

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!!

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

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

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

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

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
.

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 ?

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* ...

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

Simple, timeless words
Ushered from your mind,
Decry this burning drive,
That rages through my kind.
Morality’s little sigh,
Caliginous, colloquial dreams,
Laded with vestibules
Of guilt it seems.

Still to sip the nectar
And hear the lover’s coo.
Oh, forbidden draught
Of sweet honeydew.
Ever my song singing,
That seared on my soul,
This hot, breathless curse,
The sad Gardener’s toll.

All through this dream,
Or so life we call,
The nightmarish effects,
Pangs of the fall,
I prowl the dusty verge
Just beyond the Gate,
And wait upon the Master
To liberate.

RJH

Dark Gothic Heart

I look to the sea
viral implications take me to the surf
along the rocky ledge leads to an old abandoned house
you hear the intense pounding of the waves outside
a cobblestone walkway lines the entrance to the inclosure
the limestone permeates the small structure
a creeky door open to plants inside having moss
an old woman perched in her rocking chair begins to speak
"My name is Martha I'm the owner of this home & I will tell you your future,
you have a dark gothic heart with a temper that is unmatched."
Suddenly a black cat thunders through the home with a screeching noise
Martha continues," The devil lead you to this home in search of blood for tormented souls,
you have been given a gift with an aura of sophistication".
At that the woman said nothing more but pointed at the door
Outside in the back of her yard were skulls lining the main exterior
I couldn't take it any more so I ran so fast to a nearby stream
Looking into the water I then saw my mere reflection
I was left to wonder what the old woman really meant
a figure moved to help me gain my composure
of that of a hunch back creature having viscous fangs that bite dripping blood off side
Again I ran away to hide frightened
At last a nearby meadow with a clearing sought me to venture further
It was then I realized the true message of my gothic heart
a cool breeze calmed my spirit & soul
noting that love was the mere essence of my existence
I sat alone & collected my thoughts

A Valiant Knight


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 its 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 strength 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 bowls filled ardent vestibules
Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good


The inner harmony tuned to its hidden beasts menagerie
the inner harmony tuned to its hidden beasts menagerie
long ago & far away
existed trolls with hobbits in a world apart
the mere notion of cascading falls in true light form
through a transient scope onto its beckoning call
there was dragons in the land along with kings & queens you understand
my sight blocked the vortex of my mind's eye onto Apollo's eye
their was zing to begin with amidst the soul's regard
perhaps this is in the land where Nero could tred

A scroll was wriiten on linen parchments by the word of truth
A great disaster came across the land their were giants their
the hobbits had a high loft dwelling amidst the struggle
a radiant light pulsated through the dragons teeth
under the rainbow poured out oil that was unleashed to change the world
without warning many were effected by the distant disaster

A fare maiden let down her hair onto the plush kingdom
alone with her thoughts she dreamed a dream that nobody could decifur
that was until the court jester had recaptured her imaginative thoughts she was after
the dream was a rainbow overhead with a dragon following with crystal lights
the embodiment of iron skulls dashed the fragments of her thoughts
the forbidden castle was enchanted in the night filled with cadence
from the vision many would be killed but the outcome would profit the land
A fare maiden was moved with compassion by the killings and moved to a river

When Children Cry
Choose to listen lest I refrain...

living in a marsh mellow world,
through time to play...

a whip cream disease;
shades of lasting grandeur
a tug at the heart
longing for romance

take a good look at their five & ten
light a candle for thoughts
a clever dude...

see me throughout the leaves
chosen vestibules recover charm
loud rhymers through their thoughts
Amidst its ivory towers...

their quaint impulse of a hug
deliver to each cavity
the children read on;
a toddler cries

then going out to play
the mere covering of it's desperado
to visually see kids
Those little pitter patter feet
lest suit their relax

youngsters renew their youth
their covered snow

fierce brilliant talons
stained glass
mulberries
a cold snap
ebb and flow
trudging through
   flooded swampy ice grass
vestibules and
locked doors
aunts
white blankets
star trek beeps
brake lights
2 chocolate chip scones
and honestly,
i haven’t felt better.