fallen again

you will wake up beautiful

and i’ll fall for you again

shake those dreams from your hair

let all my love rush in

the night is gone

the night is done

we’re naked for the day

come dress me love

caress me love

with kisses you have saved

you are here so beautiful

and i have fallen again

  hold on to me

  belong to me

let all my love rush in

 

in asylum

 

When you visit me in asylum

i will be the one highup in the tree

in the middle of the garden

with poems on paper airplanes

waiting for the right wind

to kick up

omniscient

 

to the sky

 

i’m addicted to the sky

both near and far

both day and night

and its changing colors

how lost i become

in its narcotic freedom

in its lack of promise

in its vacuous zilch

what a silly idea

to have this flesh

needing these bones

bound to this structure

i’m addicted to the sky

as gravity weakens

and weeps at the sight

of my fleeing soul

(about the girls)

 

before gone

 

i am troubled sometimes

no cries

no angry outbursts

no tearing at flesh

but troubled enough

into sighs and huffs

and folds of isolation

love or no love

smiles feared or accepted

those looking, look away

rewarding each breath

with the willingness for another

still walking below the sun

a vagabond’s pace

slower than expected

pondering nothing and undone

i am troubled into moments

without words or meanings

eyes like a sunset

before gone

becomes lost

pause

 

god at the palace

i went to the palace to worship

through an ancient rustic window

looking over shoulders

god was an idiot

a housewife

a prostitute

a student

a cokehead

an eighteen year old genius

i couldn’t tell the difference

she looked the same to me

from every angle

but the way she moved

and the things she did

divesting all her energies

exposing every weakness

taking it off

letting it down

god smiled

and opened her legs to receive me

i bathe in your glory

O lord

 

 

slippery

i want your curves

your slippery slopes

luxuriant coves

your heathered fires

i want your slips

your slops

your slappings

give me the lashings

of your slippery tongue

(by Slawa on deviantart.com)

come at me hard

with intent

with ire

unyielding desires

unclean

untold

come now upon me

sliding your slopes

luxuriant coves

slip down upon me

one poet

tonight i will undress

strip this skin rip by rip

puddle the earth with all my fluids

scatter my bones for random discovery

tonight i will allow

i will become the force of voice

one shouting soul upon the wind

  one poet amongst a billion

 

wealthy mud wasp

what does it pay to be a mud wasp laborer?

this one here must be doing pretty well

has a nice winter home up high on the roof beam

and a small summer villa down the wall by the floor

either way

an easy flight back and forth

place to self-built place

no panic threats of rain

not much of a sharp draft

and outside the gated doors

a scenic view of the playground

i bet the children

when they come

won’t feel the sting

of poorer bugs

(6)

your words have breath
delicate in their yearn for love
steady in their push of passion
orgasmic in their release of lust

I retire every night
bathed in a mist
as if words were a coming
of your traveled breath
upon
me

image source:starg691.deviantart.com/

Hold my hand

There will come a day
 deleted
 vapor trail dissipated
This window of the sky
 endless & empty

Hallucinations of memories
 speckling glints
Notes from the staff
 silenced to a
 rest

Hold my hand here…
 now…
 denatured as ghost encryption

It’s all the human I’ve got to lend
 before leaving
 before letting go
 before walking away
 invisibled

In the rain

rain on the windshield
  relentless momentum forward
    wiping clear the bombarding blurs
      the external annoyances
        the threats of derailment
self-propelled
  full tanks of purpose
    locked into the guidance
      blind faith
         in
            thrust

unknown source

Crushed in the air I breathe
as a lonely moment of vertigo
brings me to god & back…
or whatever god is…
just an Nth feeling - maybe?
afloat through the realms
of null, religion
of null, language
of null, understanding
of numb
of being
of eyeless sight
of disembodied perhaps/ment
struggling to comprehend
how far to the right I am
from the decimal point

Crushed in the air I breathe
I will suspend time
as a lonely moment of vertigo
brings me to what’s
missing
and I still don’t
know

image source: karimfakhoury.deviantart.com/

(2)

You’re still so new to me

My tongue barely knows the
skin of your words

flickers
teases
drums to be let in

drums hard pounds
and judges reverberations
searching for meaning
searching for translation

tastes unknown
taste saturated in oils
in juices dripping from
splits in the rind

The skin of your words
a permeable sheath over
tender brilliance
I’ve yet to know…

unknown source