simply the lunar wheel
drifting in the stellar sea
far from its former
half-eaten halo parades
when the wheel has waxed
its all it beckons call and
tempts my chest to unfold
you hover in the anxious
heated evenings, suffering
the steamy days ends to
partake in what I have offered
you bide your time in
whirling laps around my
sanctum as I arise in the
encroaching night's splendor
the sun barely touches my
ethereal skin through the
magic of the moon's mirror
I release my essence into
the darkened air and succumb
to your impetuous raps at
my chamber door
you nestle within the
core of my existence
overcome by the magnitude
of the carnal feast I serve
drinking me in, your
intoxication is complete
with every breath you draw
you inhale my soul in whole
sip from my chalice
indulgent, essential nectar
with the pulse of a victim
escaping its last breath
in the moon's gluttony
bask in your own
and slowly slip into the
silk laden cosmos I
unfurled before you
Monday, March 31, 2014
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
To come upon the Earth
bones stained of
the color they were
in days of fruits,
first flowers lure,
lure of fleur in
color released
of stained bones
known the home
that shelters pulse
and quickens and
jolts to quake the
shell, to shatter and
break the hell of a
home once known
savior of brine
stirring waters where
birth choked former
present ways of eggs
and cells, the colder
jars and cellars full
of brine to save
made the raft
in salty grit and
silty laps upon a
shore, body born
and worn for mere
moments in current
torrents for which
the raft was made
and time was bade
for barking dogs,
the bottomless hogs
who knew not past
nose in giving those
the days, the praise
in buying back what's
bade for time
too, moments lost
amidst raging waves
swallowing holocausts
drowning to digest
the sacrifice to bear
any heartbeats to spare
and pay for the short-lived
stay, a refund for that
lost to moments
the color they were
in days of fruits,
first flowers lure,
lure of fleur in
color released
of stained bones
known the home
that shelters pulse
and quickens and
jolts to quake the
shell, to shatter and
break the hell of a
home once known
savior of brine
stirring waters where
birth choked former
present ways of eggs
and cells, the colder
jars and cellars full
of brine to save
made the raft
in salty grit and
silty laps upon a
shore, body born
and worn for mere
moments in current
torrents for which
the raft was made
and time was bade
for barking dogs,
the bottomless hogs
who knew not past
nose in giving those
the days, the praise
in buying back what's
bade for time
too, moments lost
amidst raging waves
swallowing holocausts
drowning to digest
the sacrifice to bear
any heartbeats to spare
and pay for the short-lived
stay, a refund for that
lost to moments
Friday, March 21, 2014
Don't stop Belize-ing
searching, sniffing
bloodhound for expertise
on how to purchase
land located in Belize
France can keep all
its frilly fleur de lis
and let California have
its giant redwood trees
I can ignore the Swiss
chocolate and their cheese
and all the Dutch flowers
will only make me sneeze
for it's a life of sun and
sand and full of ease
that I'm seeking in
a quiet abode in Belize
I look for the day with
a warm gentle breeze
and when the sun sets
the night doesn't freeze
must I humbly bow
low and drop to my knees
pleading and begging
"Pretty, pretty, PUH-LEASE!"
is it the Mayans or Queen
Mum who I must appease
to find a home in the
beautiful coasts of Belize
bloodhound for expertise
on how to purchase
land located in Belize
France can keep all
its frilly fleur de lis
and let California have
its giant redwood trees
I can ignore the Swiss
chocolate and their cheese
and all the Dutch flowers
will only make me sneeze
for it's a life of sun and
sand and full of ease
that I'm seeking in
a quiet abode in Belize
I look for the day with
a warm gentle breeze
and when the sun sets
the night doesn't freeze
must I humbly bow
low and drop to my knees
pleading and begging
"Pretty, pretty, PUH-LEASE!"
is it the Mayans or Queen
Mum who I must appease
to find a home in the
beautiful coasts of Belize
Sunday, March 9, 2014
In the letting go
watercolor saints pool
within folded hands
Jude transfigured
in a Judas glance
knees know well
to bend, replacing
feet for burden bear
and bones scrape
bones where once
a cushioned tissue
wore asunder
fingertips have lost
a steady pace in
grappling over tiny
orbs pierced by
liturgical links
cinders send
frankincense to
heavenly heights
mockingbirds of
a sinner lofting
prayers that way too
ritual rites are lost
in the depths of loss
and plummet into
the abyss the emptied
vessel laying before
all was poured into
blurred is what is
spoken an hour and
a day ago, giving
way to clarity of
a first dance and kiss
...the moments missed
and now sting when
sleeping alone or
fumbling with a ring
and almost heard
are the angels when
they sing, then
again it comes from
the loft in the back
and earth is still here
within folded hands
Jude transfigured
in a Judas glance
knees know well
to bend, replacing
feet for burden bear
and bones scrape
bones where once
a cushioned tissue
wore asunder
fingertips have lost
a steady pace in
grappling over tiny
orbs pierced by
liturgical links
cinders send
frankincense to
heavenly heights
mockingbirds of
a sinner lofting
prayers that way too
ritual rites are lost
in the depths of loss
and plummet into
the abyss the emptied
vessel laying before
all was poured into
blurred is what is
spoken an hour and
a day ago, giving
way to clarity of
a first dance and kiss
...the moments missed
and now sting when
sleeping alone or
fumbling with a ring
and almost heard
are the angels when
they sing, then
again it comes from
the loft in the back
and earth is still here
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