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