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.