I tore the fabric of space
Interrupting my affectionate stalking
Spurts of longing, interspersed
with spasms of premature *****

In vain, hankering to attain that next level rush
Oh you're a ***** girl aren't you
That's when I was discovered...

Her shrieks royally flushing my cheeks with shock
-Superseded by pallid chagrin
I fumble to bail,
Pants entrenched around my ankles

Premeditative,
Of absent-mind, in haste
Prime directive a method of escape
Evasion failing
Detection:
Imminent

Reflecting a grim lack of circumspection,
accursed *******
Trying to conceal my turgid *******

Her father particularly beyond reason
And not fond of my indecency for his daughter
Proceeds pummeling me to death with my beloved binoculars

Devoid of clairvoyance;
I am coincidentally sent
outward toward oblivion
Bon voyage through the portal
Falling facefirst into an abysmal wormhole

Its then I voyaged backward through time
To the moment of Creation
And witnessed the universe
**** itself from naught to existence
Spewing forth such cataclysmic splendor

There once was a boy who was but a slender
Line in a portrait or a smudge on a fender
Nothing more than would be passed by your eye
Was the boy so young who did nothing but cry

The world was a cruel one, but he wasn't so tainted
His picture more perfect than of David's statue painted
But the world would soon tear this boy apart
It would end in the mind what began in the heart

You see, innocence thrives where ignorance rules
For blissfulness is the kindest of the ignorant's tools
But this boy would be taught to feel and to hurt
His tears turned to ash as they fall from lips to dirt

He was now cold and ****** and swore
His opinions had changed when his brother died in the war
There was no point to heaven and less point to hell
When they called out your name, you either stood up or fell

Chipped bricks covered in posters past
Graffiti from people of phrases that last
Like one-liners, humourless, gaining a laugh
And the three-word with the sketch of a heart cut in half

The best philosophes of this past generation
Write thoughts on the wall from their closed imagination
And the boy with his eyes red grew darker
As he reached in his pocket and pulled out a marker

With a couple quick slashes a ballot was drawn
And he labeled the man in the voting booth "pawn"
Underneath it he wrote what might be a phrase
That just didn't catch on in those olden days:

It said, "A stone cast down as in defeat
Will hit thine foot before the street
For he who gives up his voting right
Will have no say in where we fight."

The boy capped the pen and he walked away
He had written down all that he wanted to say
His hands now were smudged from the marks on the wall
And he thought to himself, "In short time, it'll fall"

Right around the corner he was halted by the law
"You thought no one was watching, but guess what, kid? I saw.
The truth is, you're right, we vote for our wars
But the man up on top of the nation? He's yours."

The boy smiled slightly, for this cop was wrong
And he reached deep past the tears in himself to be strong
"That man isn't mine; he approved of this war
And congress has made my brother break the oath that he swore"

The cop looked at boy and the boy at the cop
They weren't talking graffiti, but the man up on top
Two strangers, two people, agreeing the fact
That the choice on the ballot was a serious act

"Most kids don't realize just what a vote can mean
They don't attribute the choice to the step in between
Old ideas corrupted or improved upon
All they know is their voice can make the other guy gone"

The boy nodded and looked the cop right in the eye
Saying, "This president let my brother ship out to die
If you try to make us think that his empathy wasn't fake
Contradiction in contrite diction will no conviction make

"You can't justify death because the harder you try
The more your arguments fade like the clouds in the sky
But before they dissolve and assimilate with the air
They leave behind pain to show that they were there"

The cop nodded, waved, and went back to the beat
More hoodlums and lost souls to help off the street
He passed a dark alley and his instincts erupted
His mind yelling to him, "Check for something corrupted!"

So he turned down in darkness to check out the spot
It looked like a place where blackmarket is hot
The fungus and mold that once grew peeled off
Leaving yellowish stains and the urge to cough

A voice near the brickwork called out saying, "Hey,"
"If it's not to much trouble, mister, couldja stay?
See honest to goodness, mister, I tried to stay clean
But when you take your own product, separation is mean"

"I don't know exactly who is to blame"
Said cop to the girl he could see but not name
"There's no one to blame," said the girl to the man
"There's things that will happen, and with time they all can

"For a creature that thrives on flesh alone
Will bite through the skin to steal the bone
And he must be careful, lest he find
That he's been feasting upon his own behind"

"Yes, sometimes it's true: Desire drives us too fast
Sometimes to places where sanity's long since passed
But sanity's fleeting and must be sought after
Come; let me find you some lodgings and laughter"

"No, mister! I'm a lost cause, my fate's without hope!
Permit me now to symbolize: I'm at the end of my rope!"
"Now miss don't you think like that, No one's soldered to their fate
Such thinking will confine you like a cage with bitter bait!"

This world's harsh and confusing and you've had the short stick
But don't let hopelessness be the only thing that's gonna make you tick
Like treading water in the ocean, panic makes you die
Find beauty out of terror, spread your arms and fly!"

The girl sat there blinking. She'd never heard such talk
She'd never been another thought on anybody's walk
"Now let me tell you, I'm not short on self doubt
But I've got to say: that's not what it's all about

See I met this boy earlier, who told me his story
About how the status of the world often makes him worry
This boy's actin' out, but he'll turn out just fine
But if you're giving up hope, then you're crossing the line

Because we've never needed Merry Men and Robin Hood
To stand up at bugle-call to turn the world good
We just need to remember: We're in it forever!
Fight the urge to look upward and shout angrily, 'Never!'

The world, good and bad, is mixed unto itself
And you can't take you your recipe book from the shelf
And add pinches of falsehoods like seasonings for a mask
You must fix it internally, for that is your task

See, though you've given up, that's something I just won't allow
You're gonna go out and fix it, let somebody show you how
Because there's more than one way to a proper conclusion
Some ways are hard and still others illusion

But become obsessed with the truth, with doin' things right
Become a shining green beacon to lead others at night
Promise me, here and now, in this alley proclaim!
That you will set forth and make good of your name."

The girl gently nodded and as time's hands were wound
She grew like a flower from that dank piece of ground
It's the tiny conversations that can so alter life
And cut the crust of complication like a peace-bringing knife

The boy with his brother who'd gone up in the fight
Was just like the cop said: he turned out alright
He put his mind to better things, gave up the childish art
And in the realm of history, his bio did its part

Because he realized how tangible the change he wanted was
He set aside resentments as the true reformer does
He spoke of love, acceptance. . . And then switched to compromise
Because when you're just a visionary, the vision always dies

He used the good and bad to weld a better, stronger, net
To catch the lost and lonely, his was the best support to get
He filled the heads of others with the change that he once viewed
And little inch by little inch corruption and violence met with feud

A verbal dispute filled with picketing people
Who shouted, "Change!" from their electronic steeple
And the media members had themselves a field day
As they caught on the camera what the boy had to say:

"Too often we forget, that apathy isn't peace
But we allow ourselves to be served it by the leaders filled with grease
And we skip along, ignoring things that should rightly upset us
Bombs abroad are wholly fine but not the one that's gonna get us

We've got to think of the whole picture, got to figure out the puzzle
Though you think the lion's fierce, it always has time to nuzzle
So let's switch the view and take on that trait
And put aside the thought that nuzzling can wait."

The cop saw the boy who was on T.V.
And said to himself, "that kid talked to me!
He smiled a bit, "his speech is pleasing as a wren
And in the case of my boasting, I'll say I knew him when!"

The girl wasn't taped, but she was out changing lives
By having conversations that we've likened to knives
And so it was when time was up on the impending revolution
Armed with words she voyaged forth to fufill her resolution

The boy and she stood side by side and led the people on
And using power words of choice, the old regime was gone
What started out as compromise, effloresced to peace and love
And the cop the two had talked to nodded at boy and girl above

A change in heart, a change in mind, can spark a worldly change
Though originality is difficult, ideas can rearrange
To fit the modern times, and indeed to mold it best
And the answer's sometimes difficult, but as we all know: life's a test

This boy and girl were lost, then found, and so was their whole world
And their string of conversations were around their finger curled
Reminding them that there was out there a better way to live
And revolution was the message that the cop had had to give

No thought can grasp this
ocean we enter
in Holy embrace
together.

This Placeless place
echoes a memory,
unseen here, only Love
carried in waves of light.

Fingers soft as petals of Lilly
lifting into infinity, touching gently,
with the delicacy of a Lover
bound by Heart to the Beloved.

In Reverence you reach
to meet the unseen song of no-thing
as the One Heart opens, revealing
fragrance mimicing the fields of Heavens on High.

Sharing the feast of Heart
boundless, awake
waves of intoxicated bliss opening This
as He decends upon, as your lips.

Dancing under moonlight
no eyes can see
delighting in poem
no words can speak.

The ocean sings of Silence
to the ship longing for shore
washing away all sense
of "two", all need for "more".

We, ever becoming
take off on a star heading for Truth
and leave the sleeping and waking
to the dreamers.

The Lover's destiny
is the union Absolute,
following the inevitable, miraculous
disappearance of the universe.

Ocean and waves voyaged in Mind
become worldless Void
You and I,
Boundless, Unborn Love

for Angelique, who found it (at) last,
and who, loved it best
--------------------------------------------


first, I read,
thus educated,
became addicted to
the musicality of word~notes,
enamored with
the artistry of
singing language,
the power to
lift, imagine,
evoke, touch
your skin,
so far away, yet
mine thru smoke,
scribed, now
mine to stroke.

explore, uncover,
the secret interiors of
what was placed
inside of
each of us,
at inception,
without exception.

the keys,
the word picks to
unlock the freedom
to be fearful,
yet courageous.

we, start, all of us,
at the same
starting line,
we, all feel
we, all believe in
the primacy,
the rightness of
I.

but then, one must
began to
observe others.
crossed over the boundary
of mine own
preemptive prepositions,
superseded the need to be
superman,
saw different truths
in the eyes
of others.

listened to the soul songs
of the R&B; breezes of
scented strange,
coming to open
ears, nostrils,
eager to learn how
wind chimes sound in
Nepal, Berlin and the Florida Keys.

standing up, stopped lying,
both up and down,
committed to be
uncommitted to the unjust
accursed ego,
rejected the sophistry of
solipsism.

then changed directions.

went back inside
to relish the passion of
pleasure of both
affection and hatred,
receptors on wavelengths
that varied, in sine,
in in side in in the
co of mr. me.

that the only way out,
to responsively accept,
that to close
the distances within,
to realize real synapses
of words,
there was only
the pathway of
the existence of
outward bound.

kindness, warmth
and generosity,
or
cruelty, inhumanity,
utmost selfishness.

needed to choose.

made my-choices.

thus provisioned and endowed,
voyaged to a place
where there was
no cover, no excuses,
only mirrors that exposed
what lay neath every artifice
conjured up by man to
mislead, deceive, and obfuscate.

There, this place,
where I was
neither the smartest,
bravest, saddest, or wisest,
I sat down and said,
said out loud
words directed to
give yourself away,
myself and anyone
who cared to listen:

”my tongue and my eyes are
one and the same,
my fingertips and my voice,
interchangeable,
my combination of words,
special even if not original,
they are as original to me
as the first prior writer and
the next,
who will create them
anew one more tme,
after he, like me,
leaned to
write them effortlessly,
and to
give yourself away...”


with out fear,
I selected a single word,
a solitary glance,
saw the poetry of an
open window's enchantment,
a head lifted momentarily
from a pillow,
then struggled mightily,  
wept for days with no
verbiage to effect,
make visions entrancing,
no skills,
butterfly net
to capture
the magic of
your loving
my signs.

disgusted by mine,
mine mediocrity,
with the greatest
of effort,
mine,
yet, yielded no results

except scraps of phrases,
that I retrieved
from crumpled sheets
that decorated the
wasteland of my first efforts.

took those phrases,
ran them over my tongue,
over and over again,
intrigued by
their lily lilt,
their unity,
the sensuous pleasure they gave.

how one word
coupled a tune,
the notes of this
new contiguous,
contagious alphabet
rang truer than most,
and moreover,
led me to another that
somehow phrased forward,
sallied forth in rhyme,
like those wind chimes,
now making perfect sense
with the one that followed,
from varied places
so distanced, but now one,
and a couplet was born.

of what did I write?
of what I knew.

no complexity,
nor trickery employed,

no matter that plain words
are my ordinary tools,
with them I scribed
the small,
the little,
what I saw.

grabbed the middle,
held onto the
gravity of the center.

simplicity my golden rule.
write they say,
about what you know best.

rely on and in the
diurnal motions,
the arc of
daily commotions,
in which
do we not all excel?

this poem flew
off my fingers,
twenty, thirty,
maybe sixty minutes,
in the skies above
these United States
of mine,
on American Airlines.

one of my
chiefest blessings
that luck threw onto
my punched ticket,
being born here.

was it effortless?

If you sat beside me,
what would u have seen?

flying fingers urgent unbidden,
neither struggling nor stopping
for the chimes were mine,
once I heard the first verse.
but first ringing was give
unto me by a reimer,
asking how,
I write so effortlessly?

the question innocuous sorta and
sorta knot,
a challenge to
my poetic essence.

I looked inward,
to look outward,
started where
all poems start,
in the quiet places
where you and
I think and thought.

unsure of the answer,
began to begin,
sing and sin,
my fingers,
simple secretaries,
transcribing lyrics
that those
selfsame wind chimes
tuned me up,
turned me on
simple thoughts,
simpler truths
herein recorded and
sworn before you,
most writ on this day that
the Americas have chosen
to recall another kind of
explorer, Columbus.

explore, explore
and then again
explore s'mores.
no matter if it is
covered ground,
covered it once more,
till you see that land
differently, colored so
no one has ever seen
them quite your way.

be an ocean pacific,
that cannot be pacified.

relish the chance,
relieve yourself
of that urge to burst,
put on paper,
gift to me and to
everyone else,
so someday,
we can say
together,
we saw *together,
through one
single set of eyes
upon a ship of
foolish words,
a real child born
in a mind!

new places re-discovered,
yet now storied stored,
living in our
Siamese chests,
to forever keep.

PostScript:

"With or without you,
I can't live,
And you give yourself away,
And you give yourself away....
Only to be with you,
But I still haven't found
what I'm looking for..."
U2.

In mighty kingdoms far away
Grew an elven king, stern and wise
Whose young daughter grew in the fields
with eyes as blue as the clearest skies

Elenir, was the daughters name
who danced amongst leaves like gold
whose laughter rang like a thousand bells
whose fair skin would never grow or old

There a traveller came from mountains
and lost, he wandered beneath the trees
he drank from nameless rivers
and voyaged across the savage seas

They met under the sheets of stars
as she saved him from himself
he touched her hair, felt her voice
and till death, he stayed with the elf

His human life frayed away
After a mere blink of years
She watched and stroked his aging face
and wiped away her tears

And when he passed, she could not bear
the pain that she felt inside
the once swaying trees that danced
felt empty, old and dried

She traveled up to the clifftops
Elenir cried her lovers name
She threw herself into the raging oceans
for her life was never the same

The elven king was despaired to see
the loss of his cherished daughter
He cursed the lands
Set fire blazing
and froze the wicked waters

He hide away his treasured kingdom
and watched as the world around him burned
His soldiers pleaded, his people begged
to not leave the world so spurned

But his heartbreak was too great to deal
The world fell into darkness
and with the once-beautiful Elenirs death
the skies grew black and starless

her new dress
voyaged
up and down
she understood
I loved her dress..

An orange and slimy porridge
Which got my sister into college
Had voyaged with some courage
All because of an orange and some slimy porridge
But had a horrible marriage because a carriage smashed strait through
All because of an orange and some slimy porridge
Which is a whole lot of garbage
Not all of it was because of an orange and some kind slimy porridge.

I voyaged through pink-bubble oceans
filled my nose with peppermint-sea air
spotted a sudsy blue whale

I fought through shampoo-froth rapids
with my trusty back-scrubber oar
spotted floundering soap-bottle salmon

I floated on spicy still-waters
wash-cloth water-weeds tickling feet
spotted a squawking rubber duck

I sat in chilly bath-water
scents long faded into nothing
spotted an old bobbing sponge.

Is that you?
I knew that smelled familiar.
It's your heart again, isn't it?
I can almost imagine it
Helplessly perched
On the palms of your hands.
It reeks of heartache.
You should really get that checked.
It means
You believed in a boy again.
And I don't know
How those lies
Made it's way to the port,
Hopped on a ferry,
And voyaged to your bloodstream,
Making it's way to the arteries of
Whatever it is you have left
In your hands.
But it's fine.
Don't blame him.
Don't blame you.
You're both
Growing
A lot quicker than your skin expected
So
You have cuts and wounds but
Don't panic, I've got the thread.
It's time for the stitches.

What happened to your hands?
Did you play with fire?
Did you test the waters and were they hotter than you expected them to be?
At least
Now
You know that love
Was never really a game of trial and error.
The realest kind only comes around
About once or twice.
And I know your hands
Liked to fiddle around with the idea
That it would only be him.
For a while it was.
But that fire was extinguished.
And it's nice to hope that some flames would last forever
But
My darling, you deserve the sun.

What happened to your eyes?
They don't sparkle how they used to.
I know the sight of him
Knocked the wind right out of you
And lifted your spirits so high
And filled you up with enough electricity
To power that spark.
But the opportunities to gaze at him
Are only so temporary.
Things only glitter
When they're exposed to
The Light.
So, better fix those eyes on the
One thing
That is eternally bright.
Trust me, when you do, the tears
Will evaporate from your eyes,
Making everything clearer,
And the world will start to make sense again.

What happened to your ears?
You've pierced and stuffed them with
All the wrong syllables.
I know those phrases and letters
Sounded like a good idea for a while.
Maybe you heard them at the
wrong time.
Or
Maybe they were never meant for you.
I know how it stings.
But uncover your ears because
There are people who still want to tell you more
Beautiful truths.
You must listen.
Now,
The sight of the word "people"
Makes you wish I meant him.
But my darling, I can only
Assure you that there is someone
Out there
Carrying all the right words
In the pockets of his hoodie.

All you need to do now is
Be still.
Remember,
You are a princess.
For a while, you've kept your head down
And your crown
Is slowly slipping from it.
But a day will come when your heart will
Heal from the lies,
Your eyes will sparkle,
Your hands will work again,
Your ears will only hear songs
And it will all be because
You waited.
Let me tell you, my darling,
True love is more than worth it.
So,
Keep your chin up.
You can't miss it.

harbouring virtuousity,  curious to express
exhibiting,  she firmly held the pen
to jot down the mystic emotion,
the exquisite dream
oblivious of the mounting stress
pouring
the dissipating words recklessly fading
confused up wit
unable to sought down, the oblivion of sleep

knew not what to indite
unable to contemplate the very dream
but thoughtfully only was such the fuddled sapidness
the psychic images ; a subtle dream

dreary eyes
thirstily awaited
till the very amnesia faded

for the sole muzzy feeling,  this the only manifest
suffice the unenviable question
whence crept the feeling?
whence the love aviate?
where rested the answer?

sudden diaphanous streak
stroke sorely to the pounding wit
paralyzing her for the moment being

the sudden egest
whatever the persistent burden
gone

for now
them thoughts voyaged operosely

beyond the abyssal pupil now dwelt
the glamorous face, snowy heavenly dress..  
the very words ; euphoric conversation
lasting gentle tepid touch
that had dourly crept and haunted
throughout the delusive night...

penned down
finally incurred
peace

She always tries to emulate every image that voyaged through her vision



Changing her ****** orientation characterizing it as a snazzy trend



Falsely claiming that she’s bisexual as a cover to fit the scene



Labels herself a natural person at the expense of her sanity



She crafts lacerations in ostentatious areas to gain sympathy



Shoots my point of view to hell then discards me as another victim



To foil her devious scheme to use and bruise the hearts of the innocent



Offers to shave her head not for a cure but an outrageous plea for help



Using people as pillows for her infinite barrage of tear drop artillery



Being the two-face she devil that she is she then grabs her knife



And stabs me in the back while expelling a heartless laugh from her vocals



Revealing a stone, cold soul showing not even the slightest hint of mercy



This lady and the euphoria of love are complete strangers to each other



But I refuse to take the blame for what she inherited from her mother



Attention ***** and nothing more on bended knee across the floor



As I strip her soul down to the core and make her run straight for the door



She doesn’t stand a chance against the rapture of this dreadful beast



For this beast wants to feast upon her delectably succulent meat



Now I have not a clue what realm she lives in



Or what she’s trying to ensue



But the only thing I can say is



P.S. *******

I've missed her
Yet a love hate eccentric
All rolled up in concrete arms
That bon voyaged a thousand ships
And if it's a thousand tears
Across a thousand lips
Arousing those ghosts
In forgotten crypts
Cross my heart
Hope to live
To fight again
All I can give
And if her roads
Lead to the sea
Perhaps she might
Sail away with me

She voyaged
to the cusp of my being
as I exhaled into her
magnolia skin.
Sans chart
sans compass

she knew me by the moon
and stars only
she knew me by the tide
of my breathing
by the pull of the winds

And I fold like the waves
to her touch
and I fold like feather-tips
in the catch of her gaze
I sink under in her ocean
as wild men in a diving-bell.

and soon my
thoughts are
anchors
in the depths
of my wonder for her

and soon my
thoughts are
anchors
in the depths
of my
love of her

i have been told one million times that
love conquers all but it seems the coordinates
of my existence have never been found or
voyaged too. i thought i had found my destination
in you, i guess the atlas i used was obsolete and rotten.
i tried to sail away from you but i arrived
at stormy seas, the north star i followed burned
like your kisses, which scorched my mouth like
my first menthol cigarette. when i tried to
soar, you crashed into me like a wrecking ball.
and we came down, blaring, burning as you
touched my skin turning it to ash

To the pursuit of knowledge,
Impervious to emotions acknowledged.
You can’t outrun toxic haulage,
With competing interests far voyaged.
Double infinity,
Forward to the unholy Trinity.

Like each blurred tree
in a roadside forest passed-
I need to write them down before I forget them.

Lost documents
in the peripheral part
of my memory-

Like each blurred tree
we pass in its roadside forest-
Each an ignored pine-
Until you slow down
and take your picture-

All the split seconds
and palpitations
and squirming sacral stirs
centered and waiting to be
arranged into love songs
and rearranged in truths.

What are these now?
What were these before?
These would come around during those moments you would only spend Alone.

In your mind-
On the drive-
Dress after dress
And tire after tire.

All the constants of Alone encourage you to go.

Go and take these variables.

---- ---- ---- ----

Equal parts synthesis and time-
Equal parts senses and pretending-
Equal parts *** and sadness-

These alone would turn your head

---- ---- ---- ----

One was its mirthful trip
Unlocking itself against the damp pearl of the sky.

No windows
and good winter-
Clouds up-

It curled into a road
and led you
and you wanted to close your eyes
and sway
with your car
along that good winter.

You voyaged romantically.

And you thought, ‘yes’-
that this was good.

And you pulled reasons from all around you
and you requested a quest
with all your favorite senses
and this allowed your
to drive down by
that lumberyard
smiling-
like an idiot.
---- ---- ---- ----

someone's misplaced a pear.
a sandy green one
there - between the turnips and onions.
the man in the striped red shirt
he's slapping price marks on braeburns...

your lips were hallowed ground
in aisle seven at the supermarket.
underground sundays in your arms
watching t.v. all day.

like a fog that drowns
first intentions wandering burrs
clipping from sleeve to sleeve,
my fool flesh tried to get somewhere
our kissing touch migrated as
if we'd never even heard of the ground -

watching warped window streaks
of scattered april rainfall,
a streetlight shadow symphony
on your bedroom wall;
my rumpled exhortations constantly
shocking the angel in you.

i didn't want to stay if you left
i'd be nothing to you,
a gone face, fallen like embers
voyaged away like the waning pitch
of a siren in the nighttime,
like i never existed at all

can you tell me that i don't
have a hole in my heart...
the world is home to billions of streetlights;
it has more to do with windows
than with the pleasures of flesh.
just to look, (is often enough).

I

the fear on first approach-

-submerged in reflective twilight
& you think say I say I-

(the island you had voyaged once before has grown feral with age)

where cloud, charcoal mane/the scribe of uncertainty/black casper queen
charges into its young,
a battered sea/a vigilant watcher waned
  
  (Its mercurial body, which folds through
  passions innumerable)
  
The vestibule of Neptune, an orphic
   iris seeking-
  
which causes torn silk of peregrine robes/
the gaelic mercy in your voice
now sinking/smoke environ

"where can I find the spirit hospital?"

howling flower!
cracked serpentine clay!

after thousand veiled dreams/
    the tempest of years pulls up from roots
     your cradled heart-
    
     -to rebirth as color undefined and
    carried by
      curious afflictions-

II

hands, golden hands, chariot hands, holy & wild hands/animal/oracle
hands with crystallike fingertips & listening eyes
hands/fury
practiced/grasping, sweet
spectacle hands/
mountain messenger/
Charon/hands (the silver tower abandoned for faith)

-together,
guiding

newborn
bodies
(including yours and mine)

toward
antiphon

We voyaged with contented vigour,
not a second glimpse to the blackened moon.
Bodies numb, fallen stiff to the chill
beneath dim urbanity -
only the warmth of us
thawing glacial palms.

Fractured hearts ruminate,
filling scars where voids once evident.
Further the night wandered,
I embark its goading path -
tantalised in speech
from such copper-buttoned eyes;
steeped with stories
of a past torn from its flesh
and dressed to resemble me.

Our ghosts confide,
beckoned forth in rich exchange;
the currency of gilded tongues.
Stitched as testament to brick fabric,
where apparitions tucked rest;
those musty Shoreditch steps.

me into you just like a boat that voyaged but cannot be anchored
rolled and abused
drowned and ridiculed
in the middle of ocean space
not lost
but cannot go home.

the funny thing is
i hold on.

Distinguishing that I have this flame,
that has a blaze of shame
because of the appalling thoughts
that voyaged my fields of mind
regarding how appalling
will it be to have
your lips on mine
your shirt off and trousers as well
furthermore
I can't enlighten you on the remaining thoughts.

I have strived for years to become the perfect soul.
not in the ways that you may think, I have chosen to become cold, til the final toll, the beckoned call, I shall accept the righteous fall.

Am tied to memories of bitter cries, til my own eyes, perceived the basilisk bitter sighs, to no suprise, I will call upon the night.

Become what I must this powerful lust of a creature that is raised from dust, the calling of a shadowed bust, a skull that's faded in whitened rust.

Death is nigh for all around, but not from me, I see no ground, there will be no shedding of the tears, as I no longer will feel those that are near and will be released from any fear. Do not seek me out for only you will be found.

Destroyer upon the voyaged seas, crash upon the sirens' plea, ripped from the vessel mercilessly, as my name is called the serpents flee, against the fallens' last decree, you will never be set free.

Of desolation within prismatic eyes, a shallowed breath of discouraged sighs, I hear not the children's cries, crimson skies and broken lies, humanity will see it's demise.

Worlds appear to crumble from a chaotic sound of thunder, awakening all into eternal slumber, from your vessel I shall plunder the souls of every father, child and mother and in my wake all shall shudder as heaven and hell will be left asunder.

I was drifting
Which was more peaceful than the evening before
When I fell off a cliff
Never to hit the bottom.
This time it seemed like a river
During high tide
So I could not feel the rocks
Or algae-clothed depth below.
The waning sun warmed my bones
While the moon voyaged across the sky
And the stars gleamed through the leafy canopy.
There was no use opening my eyes
For I knew my surroundings well:
A bed for a boat,
A duvet for the water beneath my body,
And a pillow to row myself home.

whenever the mind whispers a mysterious tale
of waves in sunlight and oceans in lakes
whenever a burst of yellow curtains the hills
onto the warmth of the blue lights of rain
this is when a voice springs out from nothingness;
a beautiful silence; an unbroken truth
gives a purpose to life's existence
and this is when I begin to question myself
"What exactly is this existence?"
Is is the way nature constantly fills up while
I admire the growth from my loop hole of emptiness?
Or is it the manner in which I am able to foresee
all of existence yet do nothing but curl up in
a blanket of emptiness?
do I have a role to play to uplift this existence or
will I fade into nothingness?
into emptiness?
I voyaged on an endless search of fruitfulness until I saw
that whenever I picture waves in sunlight and oceans in lakes
I can add a world without a sky or any land to step,
olive green sunsets are a blessing for the hills
with the tiny drops of my minute-made purple rain
I've understood, this emptiness with this nothingness
are mine to take
they add up to make my imagination that is mine to make
This emptiness with this nothingness gives the true meaning of my existence.

Far over the sea
With city sunken below
Do the waves fall away
Mythic islands to show

No men have voyaged there
Since the days of yore
When the moon was bright
And the sun shown more

For what was found there
Can not be explained
Nor would a return voyage
Have anything gained

On those islands
Where great salt mounds
That reached to the trees
And covered the grounds

But stranger still
Haunting to sight
Were the birds that nested
In the faint evening light

Great monstrous things
With deep purple eyes
And blacker than night
Their wings in the skies

Little is know
Of the strange avians or the crew
That sailed such islands
For only one man knew

Having survived the voyage
He lived in dread fear
Of those strange dark birds
As if they were near

And though everyday
He was coaxed to regale
He could never bring himself
To again tell the tale

Then one day he was gone
With grains of salt in his bed
Grand wings in the night
To carry the dead

I once had fooled a shadow
It looked not where as I
Its eyes captured horizons
Mine voyaged the sky

Then las we locked sight
Ran deep in sinking stare
Our eyes now stranded
Our minds roamed elsewhere

a date
conditioned
switch off mobile
never minded
gazed and voyaged
her…… then
sat next to her
my finger trying something
watching this
she did a big 'hoof…'
men need some distraction
so, switch on mobile
Is love need a diversion??

I'm used to overlapping love,
One on top of another
So that any space between us
Is filled by my overreaching desire.

But you've carved a canyon,
Filled in by an ocean
And put yourself on the far ridge
So that only my cries can reach you.

The parting ground sculpts a chasm in me
And I watch as stones fall away
From my feet breaching the edge.
But I retreat from the brink
And put myself to studying.

I search my resolve
For new ways to love you
And find that my voice carries.
With lighter words that will not sink
I can sail my love to you.

But my love has landed
On barren shores.
In vain I constructed a fleet
And voyaged through storms
Of my own desperation.

All to find that you have gone.
So I will turn my sails home
And make something better
Of this new way of loving.

This softer, more hopeful love
Will find someone new.
It will find someone who loves me
Like I need to be loved,
Someone who is nothing like you.

And they will reap what you sowed.
They will bask in the light
Of the flame you ignited.
They will savor the sweetness
Of the fruit you left to rot.

While the pain still resounds
And the longing persists,
I cannot detest you
In the way that I wish.

For you, I became a scholar of love
And a student of myself.
And though you have no interest
In my newfound literacy,
I thank you for forcing me to read.

We sail
With the caravan
West Indies we go
The line that brought culture
To our homes

Demarcation
The pope commands
Spain’s spread
Across the land

Yellow, Blue and Red
The shield
The stars
And the abstract
Ecuador
Venezuela
And Colombia
The three countries of three colors
Neighbors in the land
Of Spain’s essence

Starting from East
Coming to the West
Claiming the land
When riches were command
Queen Isabella paid
And was soon repaid
With lands for home
For their country
Can expand the most

Voyages came
India was the destination
Confusion and desperation
They was sadly mistaken

Amerigo Vespucci
Was the man
Who confirmed this land
This land was named after him.
America was confirmed
To be the new land
Of a world so big
With high demand

Spain voyaged in the need of trade
Instead they discovered and claimed
Argentina, Bolivia , Chile, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Guetamala and Puerto Rico and the Three countries of three colors.
Conquistadors fought and soread across the land.
A search for the riches,
The queen did command

Spanish
A beautiful language
From Spain’s influence
Romantic, sweet, and dramatic
The culture of so much history
Known around the oceans and the lands
Hispanic Heritage
Never forgotten
For how Grand