31.10.10

Uh Oh...Poem

Woman know you are his home
In him, for you only has been placed a compass
A tenderhood lives within his soul
And he lists
Always to you
Of his heart comes the certain sweetness
Even as manhood's brusque gruff barnacles coat
No matter where
Or with whom
He is home
In you

*******

At the bottom of a large glass
Dies, tommorrows virtue

Saintly vision; hears not
Its tethered wings
Are blind

The maverick eye; feels not
Lidded affliction
Casts its thoughts towards sleep

Epistle to a brother,
struck by the thistle with it's thorns,
a horn that blows the doom of paled religion,
dark and gloomy, deep and deadly,
the sound of organs playing
in the blue of the lagoon.

INFANTALIZATION

You were the first
I was the last
a child of circumstance
filling an empty space.
I sought my definition
in your shadow
a cold and dark place
a field left fallow
where no loving seed
could grow.

Your world is colorless
Your silence piercing
Your words unforgiving.
And when you speak
I am as a child
again.

voracity
devours the mornings thin glint
shinning like a pin

as a pain
that mourns the moult
when useless wings
on angels float
shadowless
and pensive post
the tactile visions
guarded float

I need to be kissed no,
none does me give this bliss….
I yearn more for a kiss
than some joker commenting on this
my missing of a kiss …
I hope soon someone will send a pack too…
no, not of cigarettes
but of kisses
as I open the envelope, all kisses will fly
to catch all like a butterfly
I shall try

.

There you are
Playing domestics
Passing each other

Cups & saucers

While I sit
Being waited upon
To take it all in --

This apparition
Of simple bliss.

Why was this not possible
When roses bloomed
In the garden?

.

It's getting dark,
orange hugs the clouds on the horizon,
an outskirts of the city hue
holds the sky in a glowing embrace
and the moon...

The moon
smiles,
leans through the cloud
and kisses the apple tree.

The look in her eyes says,
'You need to kiss more..'

And do you know?

She
is
absolutely
right.

The Family Sylvilagus Transitionalis
live by the creek before The Scary-Wilderness.
All living on Tyler-Tickletoes Tillings
call them the Sylvi-Rabbits, to help shorten things.

They live in a green house, right by the creek bank -
a mansion really by rabbit-hole rank -
with five bedrooms, three family rooms, two baths
and a neat back garden with four footpaths.

When the morning aroma
brushed an olive tree,
it sent my soul free.
hushed the nestlings,
as if mystic lullabies.
silenced the angry waves,
and calmed the sea.
It stamped each blooming rose-bud
 with an exquisite freshness
announcing a new day 
for you and me.