come home.

Its evening and the branches are bare.
The fallen leaves tremble
the zephyr carries the winged bird home to its nest.
Fly my child,fly it says.

Romeo and Juliet.

Romeo was 'a roam
and Juliet was love's debt
they were a sad story
defeat and death.

I dust my old grandfather clock
and see pendulum talk to me
its swinging back and forth
and it is physics and history

I look forward and notice photographs
I see happy days gone by fast

I see rose wood and teak chairs
and rock, does my mind
as I rest.

her.

Because words are all evil and uncouth. Now there is a waterfall and waves across her forehead. Her gaze is like a rocket in a starless night sky. Cascading tresses and waterworks in her eyes.

There was a mighty serpent in her throat and the twitch of her nose was a warm embrace. The table around her was in need of cleaning. The clutter was in her head. The rocking chair was a lullaby. The empty wine bottles were half past midnight and like faithful ardor.

Her tea was chamomile, gaping pride. Healing the inner sanctum sanctorum. There were rose petals for a bed and sleep was in the mind.

The drapes were half drawn and the moon light shone through it.

She was paradise.

v__-

and as I peeled your laughter from
the canvas of my mind
I saw and gathered its tiny shavings

aquamarine was the onset of thy gait
like a wave washes the shore

purple was lingering resonance
of your sly peek

blue was the enormity of the sky
like dreams of being in your arms.

ocher and veridian were lonely sunsets
and melancholy like a bleeding violin


red was devotion

ocean' the depths of the ocean

indigo was the pregnant rainy sky
that burst clouds
on warm wet mud
oh how crazy
drive,dive.

put in you after every word
and this is but a lie
without you
with or without you.
i am.

Meaning?

what immortal hand or eye
could frame thy fearful symmetry.

this is my favoritest poem in the world.
I read it every time I am down and out.
It helps me re-build.
After all its always about strong foundations;

________________

It was like sitting in a wheelchair in the midst of a marathon.
But who is to blame but me.
I tried to pluck flowers off a graveyard.

Trying to bloom,purity
I ended up on a pyre.

Though it was never my funeral.
I felt compassion like a storm.

I visited my friends,Tom,Harry and Dickens.
I tried to find happiness in theirs.
There was but withered memoirs.

I bore wounds like a man.
I let them tie my fingers and across my bust.
Sanguine rushed like a fountain and I let vultures feed off it.

I tried to dream but only then did I know I have none left.Maybe.

Choices were always a problem for you.....
- Opiate.

Universe.

the moonlit shore
growling wolf
pristine sand
a thimble spool
rainless and starry eyed

the body an atlas
Ahoy! ahoy
a sailor on board
sinking ship
the depths of my heart
rose the tornado
piercing the skies

galaxies galore
sing me
a lullaby

what happens to lonliness

bare clouds are a harp
mouth organs bloom
the terrible mystery
too much all too soon

the sky is a cobweb
knitted walls of clay
nude pastels
my mind at play

it almost rained
on my bed
winter not warmth
to stay

love is a frostbite
like a kiln
i lay all at stake.

Change in chance.

This is a story.

It could be about the fake tin soldier who lost his weapons in heat.

Maybe it was the huffing mane’d lion who could only but crawl.

Or the insane feathered parakeet. Plumes et al.

All of that could be.

This though is my story.

And I end it here.

Because all of you are cowards to read further and me too brave to finish it.

My story is mine alone.

It has fantasies and sordid crimes.

Mysteries and bales of unraveled paper.

Music and monarchy.

Misfortune and marmalade.

No breakfast,mind you.

None of that for me.

I'm just a rag doll.

I look along with big eyes and a blank expression.

I lost my smile to love.

I won in defeat.

I grew with wonder and saw her leave.

My teenage woes were fructified.

I was assuaged to a ravaging lunatic.

My artistry was ripped apart and my con identity was shattered.

Now I lay down under the indigo sky with a hint of umber and rose hue. Also just a little bit of purple.

The moon peeks at me. My eyelashes play hide and seek with the stars.

I am making love to the night sky. It is faithful. Celestial and wholly accepting.

The stars dim now, as I watch them fluttering my lashes.

The moon is a cradle and I can almost see fairy dust sprinkle around me.

My lover was lost in a war and he found a mate elsewhere.

So here I lay like a log waiting for the sky to tear open and engulf me.

Clean slate my existence and deny my being.

My belief however staunch goes along with it, into a black hole of sorts.

I am nothing and this is the beginning.

there there.

i have to grow up.
no one to be littul kid to.
sigh.

Decepticons.

Deception Con
Both negative aspects amalgamating into one singular formation of nullfied existence.
Its primitive causes maybe trust and deceit in thought waves.


From the diary of an actor :
I rarely have nothing to think about unless I really want to think about nothing.
Then I'm thinking about nothing.

She could very well bee a python goddess entwining me with her self, coiling, throttling, but I resist, knowing her bosom is close.Then nothing.

So sometimes after thinking about everything and something and anything I think about anybody.
I rehearse lines to myself about saying it to anybody.
And of course I want to make them laugh and still be more than an actor. Open the doors of perception, maybe.Make history. So I say these lines and all I can do is give a humble shrug and that would be apt really. Because truth comes out of humility.
So I was saying a witty line to anybody and wow it worked.

I'm too busy to be meeting too many anybodies so I said this to a somebody I know and they applauded for joy.Voila.

I came home and it was dark and I sat in my study.Dim lights and all.I thought why did he applaud and not clap for glee?
More thinking but

I see my daughter big eyes and everything and I gather her in my arms. I tickle her nose and pretend to eat it.She squeals.
I almost say to her and she jumps and holds my nose and we both laugh.
She fell asleep in my arms and I was looking at her.

[whopeedoo grammar doing eminem style but im lazy so this is for now]

ok later now.
ehhh

The song of loss.

Clandestine twilight
Weeps across the gentle ocean
Like stars in my eye

by the break of dawn
all gone like a distant dream
night was never ours


____________________

First attempt : double haiku.

unloved song.

I sung in melodious ardor
the chirping lovebird escaped
the baritones of me
sunk beneath the seas
deep in the oceans
unlike the tornado of your presence

My love is a past midnight storm.
That rises in your dreams, levitates in bountiful candor of the chill in the air and then leaves to be un remembered slowly as you recollect.


when arose
Disclose haha in a tinkle of your lips
chuckle dipped in apricots
aftertaste of honey tea
on your pearly tooths
lined in heavens mouth
yours, mine
or of those who spoke?

Untamed poppies like abundance in a child’s curiosity where leprechauns sat on their pot of gold.

Meridian of the atlas
I like waiting at windows
and most times I see the moon
that’s how (I) long


And evening swans hanging by each others necks like crawly creepers

lavender pastel and faint sundried yellow
and summer dresses
hearing seagulls
eating conch flesh
roasted with buttergarlic
and lemon shavings

but why would you care
I’m not a lover
in a train
during the dawn of winter
world war raging

I’m not a violin recital
to swooning lovers
umbrellas open
hearts overflowing

.
Many soldiers died in the war and wore bullet wreaths.
Ravens sermoned funerals. And their family was forgotten.
One of us had to lose the war. We had to raise the flag.

I suffocate at the brim
when I see a child
selling balloons
red.blue.green

There were wild lilies.
So white like therapeutic noise.

white I lay
on a pale night
while I run in
many directions
all across
where are the barricades?

The war , the war
was in the other direction
as the soul ran feral naked

Sarabande.

And in april I bloomed
heavens nectar,warm cocoon

in may i was flamenco
a fiesty bride

in june i was mehico
and cold jalapeno sangrita

in july i was cock-a-doodle-do
your truly miss majestic
ugly two shoes

august was merry
mary jane

lots to pen down

i met a shamman who told me to eat liver
as i have a cancer in my stomach

it was the bile
he said
of the hands I'd held
and bitterness absorbed

Instead I let dogs smell my legs
and feasted on
honey coated chamomile and jasmine on my plate
accompanied by bloohberries
melons , kiwis , sweet limes off late

i washed my hair in egg yolk and beer
and my kidney stones melted
I added to my scalp
cider vinegar and hot whiskey
and trotted into my doctors
and gave him a heart attack

I painted his walls
and told him to smell the rain

and now it is almost september
and of songs
that tell me to awake
heh, heh
what is hibernation?


in november it was cuba
mystic and simply yahooza

in december i have to end my song
and so to the end i lost its throng

goodbye my lover
to this dance
I shall not chance

---

decadence

I have dawned the veil of night
and sunsets are bitter memories

love is a frost bite
that will kill me slowly
but surely.

you can ride the tide,little darling
as I drown beneath

you can woo the moon
as I burn like the sun..

Because I heard you whisper in my sleep. my breast against your heartbeat. a knife of vanity I held above my head, at your word I was ready to be dead.

And then like rainbows in the sky and oil on water just much as bright
I cooked you broth and made your bed
washed your clothes and stayed in your head
and when my pelvis was an open drain I only wanted you, to tame
alas you were busy and my heart was maim
I felt beauty only when I saw me through thy eie
I tried my best but you let me die.

Goodbye my lover
I have sworn
I shall have a funeral
oh so alone.

I shall buck in my sleep
under the sheets
and pretend you were watching me.
just like you did when over me


Fuck you love.
I wanted to.
If only you had wanted to,too

I always wanted to drink you silly and dance your lap
like galaxies and constellations
spread out
undone clasp

I was a child
apple of your eie

When only I wanted to be the woman
the woman on your thigh

_____________________________________________________________________
Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.
- Loenard Cohen

conformity.

“The critic has to educate the public; the artist has to educate the critic.”

- Oscar Wilde

butterflies and hurricanes.

The world was passing by, like a hurricane to the eye. Caught in the middle of it was all of my soul. Bruised and blooh, sat there untamed. Oh those songs will never be the same again. The clouds will never rain. The birth of a nation was in its destruction a zen once said. And tonight, I shall wear the dark robes of a nihilist and thorns on my head. Bleed from within and smile with my eyes. Walk like a man, secretly fearing all.

Prologue:

She was the lady of broken dreams hidden in laughter peels. Painted on her face were the clandestine secrets, the wind borrowed and dispersed into the stale of midnight. When she raised an eyebrow, arching it with subtlety. Men dropped their guns and rose to their manliness. Oh how she wished she could play the harp and be a celestial clout in a lost black hole.

She had walked many rocky ridges decorated by falling autumn leaves. Crushed.The brook seemed to gurgle tamely as she walked by. Matted were her locks, like honey combs.Her heart was the forest fire. Burning down mercilessly.
And as the horizon took birth in the skies womb ,
many wandering souls, she fed.
Out of her own gatherings ,
she bled, she bled.
Walking by the shore to wash away her woes.
The sea was an invitation of the heavens and just one last step. She would vanish into eternity.
Eternity of the dead.

Cantata:

As she pulled her parasol of seasons,
dusting snowflakes
the hem of her skirt lifted,
a rain of wet wild
many a men, wasted

and somewhere ashore a cemetery
the wolf howled
serenading the moon,
and there she was,
dancing down the cathedral steps
“Mother Mary came to me”
wearing an autumn leaf crown
on her head.

A curtsy and a bow
Who was that, above?

She chuckled
And flipped her head
Her paramour washing
Into the eyes of the beholder
Like a wave that comes to shelter
And just like that,
Back into the ocean she fled.

Elegy :

And as I got up and left the edge of the earth. Back into lifelessness of self, I accepted reality and its fate and listened to the violins in my head. A sonata of parodies, paradise and perdition.
A sense of loss at its best. A fluttering butterfly now dying, came and sat across my palm. And I wondered of its cocoon ? Those colours, delighted many eyes and many lovers held hands. But tonight, who shall lament this little angels death?

back and forth.

Dear friend,

The horizon was beautiful as I held the conch.Distant resonance of the entirety of the universe,I heard.
Like the rolling of mighty waves into the womb of wet sand.
Back and forth.Back and Forth.

I walked the shore line, circle after circle.And somewhere between the end and the begin, I was a bird.
Eating out of the palm of Mother Earth.Flying freely and shooting into cold indigo starlight.Maybe I was a satellite.Who knew, do we ever?

I live by the shadows and swim into its umbra.Because water takes the shape of the vessel.And I sometimes talk about politics and the Nation.
I see floral skirts in summer skies and gusts of wind and some fun.
I saw love and it is,vain.

I saw years and autumn leaves.
I saw young lovebirds and the fall.
The fall of what? You tell.
I see life and I see a mirror.

Telephones ring and I feel like reality.
And I don't like it,really.Because with it come the past and future.
So I go back to hiding in umbrae,swimming in fathomless oceans,diving into perdition and my bed was on fire.
So I dusted the burnt bedsheet, put the ashes out.
Warmed my palms in mittens and forgot about stimuli.
I read the news paper and shed too many tears.
I mocked the government for far too many years.
I washed love off my linen.So what? Do I pick weapons and march to war?
Hallelujah, I'm a bum.


And life still goes on, like the rolling of mighty waves into the womb of wet sand.
Back and forth.Back and Forth.

dark coffee and thundershowers,with a hint of lonely

And the evening bulb had lived its fair due. It flickered. Like a dying butterfly. Faded into the darkness of the room, its tungsten electrified, one last time, before it broke beyond repair. Virginity taken.

As a silhouette stepped out of the darkness into its parasol, it was like waves of rain lashing against the choppy sea rocks. Or maybe it was the darkness’ mind. It does, if you could identify you’d know, it has its own mind. Silhouettes and darkness in shades of their umbrae and penumbrae cascaded against the polished wooden chocolate brown floorboards. In the distance, much closer to the lavishly sized window, one could see golden embroidery on the ivory carpet. I liked carpets in the skies, where they can fly into an Arabian Night.

And as the waves rolled along and the room grew darker to weary eyes. Lightning struck and in it, glimmered the most magnificent skinned woman. What moved in the darkness was the cape of her fine dress. She lay there propped against the bed side.

Beautifuller than moonlit shores and orchids in wild paradise. The giant ruby against her chest, brought her eyes out.
Her eyes, as pale as the distance of the sea, promised eternity. Her tresses worn against her bare shoulders, sliding like a waterfall onto the rest of her bodice.
And if she could sing, you fall in love, my child.
But alas, she is the corpse bride.

shambles.

And as I condemn all men
of this world.
All I think about is your chin,
on the nape of my neck,
never again.

all men of this world.

whirlwinds and there after

Inebriate serpentine rain clouds
that danced beneath your locks,
of waterfalls of curls that cascade.
Such was the warmth of the fireplace
that burned down the wine cellars
and drapes caught flames.

After all waterfalls empty into
churning oceans
mighty waves;
And a drowning sailor
Never sails the south seas again.


The sheets sprawled
like the sunny skies;
Wet rain clouds bereft
the bed left unmade
the shivering thunder unfelt
the words unsaid.
Down one’s own highway
man and maiden, left.

Because.

my secrets that were fantastical dreams to your ears
like lullabies of children who's old men fought the revolution.
and visits of wallowing pride to graveyards and morgues.
let me design a wreath of honor worn across my forehead as thorns.
and if fullstops were seen by you between my sobs.
you'd know i don't speak like chewing gum.
but for all that was spent and all that is left to say.
i will run.
run through the wind,away.