when I compose
I have none in mind
I enter the one I am reading
and you think its me

that's the whole beauty
of an actor of poetry

you should not let any one know
who or what lies between
you and mystery

tis your self ordained destiny
some one
say some one
will think of me
who am I
certainly not me!
tis the one who resided
in me temporarily.....

stilted
whorl
dark as starlings
lean tiny against
the giant days
the gaunt bed
with its night remains
the television dream
stains

copulations of stars
like grams fired
the water rising
in a gurgling world
overflowing capacities
lull
crawling like silver
flesh in the shaded
contours of carpet
the waxed nicotine
yawl of time
scratched like a trapped
pack
menthols from the
sunshades pack

In morning I was shown
The character of myself
A drawing
In black ink

Some lines in bold
Like consciously
Left trails

And a proper shadow
Of a thick frame
Resulting
From light

I will write of the gems I have held
Some in my mind others in my heart
Yet they are held with a love so pure
A thought that will fill eternity’s hold

They are a band of poets striving away
They are from all places with all thoughts
Here they play with words in tidy rows
Though we must take each word carefully

When you talk of their words talk with calm
Be gentle with their lives as they burden you
Think of all they have been through or why
They come to us each day poetry to unfold

indigo eye
cycloptic, myopic
as bloodshot veins collide in the center
of the heroine roadways
casting distance.....into distance
where summer green grasses smother rolling hills
giving way to plains of grain
swaying in the dry air
like 10,000 serpents
slithering in unison

Voices stem and argue
amidst a chorus of summer blues
until tongues collide, twist and
lock
in a passion
melting
in the well of a pen
that lies arthritic
on the desk in the den

Crystalline screams
echoing out of openings
of the orifices of my skin
seeping out syrupy lies
and malignant paradoxes
frozen in the waves
of tranquil idiosyncrasies
trapped in a cage
of flesh and feverish
brain cells by degrees
developing from
waste to procreations
in the deep facets
filling spaces with
fetal thoughts and infancy
becoming ever-increasingly
born and reborn

DO YOU KNOW LOVED IS NOW
Lovedly technically only!

at times you make me feel...
we all are living in paradise

at seeing your plight
gosh
@
what a price

but then is epicurial poetry the cause
for the daily applause
you two earn
as much as I do their curse

what is worse is not my verse
but the manner in which some converse

oh this verse
will prove to be

the worst!

mark my chastity
Serendipity
has not read me
oh friends all
what a pity!

Magnetron squeeze
thrown out against the edge
holding on at the eternity brink
the aura fires roiling
like blue stark morning

squeeking hinge vault width
an aperature
full of nights aromas
a dry dustdevil spin
on the shadows of day
grounded fast
like a bad idea

timid and shy
the first cocktail
lush lust preparation

Once again, humanity is discarded.
Gaza bleeds innocence.
but the sanctity of life desecrated
is unsurprising.

Therein lies the tragedy,
a spiral of destruction upon destruction,
sparked by endless enmity,
preying on those sacrificed without reason
This is not God's decree!

It's schism of sanity
in men of power
and all their arrogance.
The devils wearing
human faces.

the snow writhes
the black square totality blocks
blighted in its gusts
across from us
the hall..the rooms of
dark and the little blue
world of the television
for the dying
the healing
the wounded

the IV pole like
a little scarecrow
the tubes to nourish
away that which
haunts you
snakes beneath
the pale pastel
blankets
the low lighting
the others coughing
the footsteps in the
hall...