Poetry speaks to me
In a language
Made of bells
It engulfs me
In hues of pink
Making shadows of myself
Thousands and thousands of times
In this totality
I find you
Over and over again
Because it is you
I want

Poetry speaks to me
In a language
Made of bells
It engulfs me
In hues of pink
Making shadows of myself
Thousands and thousands of times
In this totality
I find you
Over and over again
Because it is you
I want

some say it’s a bird
some say it’s absurd
but when I asked you
a nest was growing
beneath your bed
There’s one
There’s two
There’s three
Of me
In this triplicity
I count aphorisms
When it’s difficult
To speak . .
You can’t
Start a fight
In a lonely
Home . .

A subtle lullaby
Bronzed
As the earth rotates
Such wonder
Touching a vain
Girl’s heart. . .

Heavy lines
Mounted over me
These purple nights
Drowning super stars
Forgetting what it is to write
Phosphorus dynamite
Encircles and intertwines
Muting one decade at a time


This so called, craft
Floats, steady, and upwards
Myself, in a time of mirrors
– August


Stone COLD
Hold ON
You’re still STRONG
NERVE pain loneliness
I haven’t LEARNED anything
EXCEPT for the LINES across your FACE
MORE human, than YESTERDAY
Like random twilights of dust
So distant, only God could see
Yesteryears, my love
And yesterwants
I am adapting
Cowardly, but adapting
This is distinction
Between surviving
And existence

My mercy
A need to substitute
My mouth, for a dream
Different homes
Pincushions for doorknobs
Damnit I love you

One must be blind
Stripping God of its own light
Things none of us could be
The profound luster in lines
It’s happening to me
A wound, too echo’d to reveal
That love is not found in days

Tigers brilliantly move
Bright limbs of mortals
Overpowered and mute
Utmost – love
No more still
Than your tongue’d speech
Fight for insight
God’s copyright
In this interior of light
My signature becomes
A wrath that requires no reason


Forgot
How still
Your mind is
This is not
A compliment
It’s rhetoric,
It chokes
The good parts of me
Hang over my feet
Like lousy flowers
That love just like me

Veils of what I’ve done wrong ..

Covers us in blue
In the instant
Of this instant
Memory invents
Another present
A circular courtyard
With superstitious
Flashes of light
Intended to cover
Every crack in our horizon

The eternities of a second
My whole life to solve
Pitiless searches for a body
To grow old with
Nameless sensations
Such a cruel thing
To miss the dead
With this immeasurable clarity
Like gravid drops of hope
Spinning over itself
Tirelessly, till we learn
How to love, again . .

The furthest of reaches
Sex seal serpentines
These syllogisms
Transform me
Inside is outside
It is everywhere
And nowhere
Invented
Devoured
– Man

We live in identical rooms
We blankly wake, we greet
From one balcony to another
Successively for a hundred years
Between now and tomorrow
We will spend the rest of our days
Growing gardens out of angry stars

Like birds
With a grape to blame . .


You must be logged in to post a comment.