low Frost

we woke up too early will it be too late i know you know more than i know so how do you not see me coming? intentions, growing water flows there’s no intent to kill seas will drown us just the same o baby, rising tides bring closer retention of former, repent for latter summertime positions feel poisoned in this dawning air beg, or begot, begin. Insipid fair weather targets find us lacking once again. o baby, darkest winter coming wood pile bereft, this fire has burned far too long archaic pain cuneiforms testify how stories die another stone tablet … Continue reading low Frost

Lamron Efil

dismember the concepts in valleys of unrest set norm of forgotten line of sight vision sights are surreal in abstract light sound of soiled years in confusion elapsed time cherry wood-worked mind maturing sin, a disease of nation application hardware stand still destruction Tuesday afternoon appointment Hating the looks of genetic makeup casual violence deed done relapse synapse studio apartment penthouse playhouse yuppie bimbo make-believe with perfect score SAT Brexit, stage left… must you leave so soon? In a rush Irish? morning traffic Russian ants on paved trail army of disembodied disciples voyeur Templars of diamond age destiny wholly opinionated … Continue reading Lamron Efil

World Poetry Day, yay

use your indoor voice said the monster to the man grinding turbine winter of solace nocturne animalization of our future sedate the sedition cut away cancer clean parabolic nations offer love to the fidelity of distress comatose virulent vocations of nihilistic interventions USE YOUR OUTSIDE VOICE with no plan you take the stand and garble truths to headline time universe just waiting for the next take push back gender war fealty pay what you owe you know blast from the past, happenstance ma ma ma ma microphone tiptoe to the wilting only raise your finger in traffic furnace speaks its … Continue reading World Poetry Day, yay

Sigma

An unearthly visage set in grim mask.  It seems words come everyday, every way. Something happens; I know not what.  Majesty or tragedy.  Traffic.  I feel it gathering, like dust in antique store, West Texas.  Blind as a fool in a hurricane wind.  Some other sense pulling.  My soul grows restless and time of change is coming. Caress the pattern.  Observe the mystery of sigla that speak of kings, mountains, wars, rivers, home.  A key to some greater meaning.  Criminal that we cannot find it.  Shopping malls and hospices.  Kerosene on my fingers.  The smell of orange and cardamom. Something … Continue reading Sigma

bending low

  bending low it’s all the thoughts I cannot express talking slow the words you are forming have no meaning there’s no weight speaking in zero gravity undertow all of the times we lost ourselves in yesterday late nights of no tomorrow summer kissing and bottled lightning sweet nothings and keg parties mushrooms and marijuana dust under my fingernails smelling of mesquite and bourbon when did we die? I am not sure I can quite remember the exact day It may have something to do with what you’re trying to say waiting for it now bending low, gravel pressing through … Continue reading bending low

Lingering Shadows

I linger in shadow course by stone Norse winter snow-white tangible thoughts she brings weep, o weep for us a pallor mortis crosses crowded feuds feasting, furrowing forces fade a scar upon my face in measure I linger in shadow you know my name but I do not seek your hand you are not mine to claim wilden beasts of yore fallen have I seen travail in many travels victory and honor have suffocated me, dulled my spear brought ruin upon my sunlight it all falls away softly litany of solace written in sandstone collars of gold make lovely bindings … Continue reading Lingering Shadows

Poetry Is Me

Aurora, bore me Alice fled from my responsibilities with a stolen smile and a London overcoat sickly sweet surrenders and citron martinis just another Armageddon Wednesday gaunt debutante sambas your salsa burns baby where I go will you follow me to show me all I can never know? grandfather of no one miasma of that great era it tears at tears and fears forests of folly fending famished fiends of fire hydrochloric acid words educate my body in your ways I am feeble and scrambled like a short wave under water running a hustle, bustle slinging my game out on … Continue reading Poetry Is Me

Today’s News

Indelible, the touch of the restless dementia hours of nothing dedicated to the honors we are pleased to abhor in small plaid workings of the horse’s hair shouting mayhem in stocks bonds straining against the drying out of decency we manipulate the ruins just to see what comes out of my madness is beautiful too far gone in this muddy water blues gripping the railing about the digging of my bones pirating another soul  with cash money brothers, am I my brother’s keeper of bees in my bonnet and the tearing away of starlet dancing survivors on tv surviving in … Continue reading Today’s News

Circles

An inference of platitudes a circle and defining latitude, a foreign thought, a cross across sovereign skies intertwined tales of lassitude a 3 pence secret and yellowed articles that speak of it In front of the old brownstone with the oaken door a brass knob turned the opening thereby, gaining entry in time born of an odd soliloquy the remnant unfettered I noticed it changed your gait left unlocked, the gate swung in silently on freshly oiled hinges privy to the partly secluded, you saw the closing once you spoke of the orange Tom-cat asleep on the porch. Certain you … Continue reading Circles

Somewhere In an Opera

I bite my tongue and watch blood trace patterns of words I do not Know I wish I could die or become something more engrave your whys into their thoughts begin to understand you fools love has, is and always will be your favorite illusion so drive me home after the opera your scorn can follow me to my door but it is not allowed to come in there are demons tearing at my eyes folding visions into pills forcing me to enjoy the trip saving my feelings for the day when your eyes no longer lie alas, to wait … Continue reading Somewhere In an Opera