That voice sounding listlessly,
invoking tremors of the heart
and forgone fantasies, I keep and,
I don't know why
What used to be as easy
as taking out the trash
has become a Sisyphean task
Holding on with worn fingers feeling
fragile, frail,—Not knowing what's
beneath me but wanting to fall—fall
long and hard into something new
Linear planes of symmetry
laid before my eyes
for so long unnoticed
beckoning to set me free
and affirm the wanderings
of my mind
Through auburn locks of hair,
strands of gray isolate themselves
standing somberly—as I
look from above
with fingers entagled throughout
carresing the contours
Dancing through the
chambers of my ears,
vintage voices overlap each other
in a melange of crystalline chaos:
brilliance begging pardon to brilliance.
Ephemeral beauty found
in stolid faces
waiting patiently to cross
bustling thoroughfares.
They will all dive into
cavernous waiting areas,
looking into darkness
hoping for a
nimbus nigh and swift steel
The beat persisted steadily:
a medely to not-knowing
danced by lovers of sameness
with similar aims around a
conflagrant chasm—that spewed
gold and smoke
lighting lightly
the mauve sky
Lingering loathsome caricatures of cool
sauntered nervously about a
diminutive garden
smothering the air with
mutterings devoid of mirth—
Patrons of cool and
enemies of the soul,
they traded false gazes
of bemusement by firelight
with blank eyes
Her love nigh burns me
My conflagrant lust aglow
Her willingness drips
Traveling on tire tread
the concrete sings
with Sonorous undertones
unfolding its serpentine
paths and oblique mysteries
The leather is soft
and malleable. Hue of
grave grey matches the
somber tone of impersonal
highway never-ending
Oleander and detritus
are the cynosure and centre
of a road to nowhere.
miles of faceless milieu
and nameless cities.
Winding branches swirling
nervously towards the heavens
sit candidly against
a crepuscular sky.
The radio flares with
sparse intensity mildly
blanketing the otherwise
quiet chamber.
Again the road unfolds but, towards
something solid, two hours
beyond the horizon;
sometimes there is pleasure
in returning home.
Picturesque portrayals of life
Abound amid running time and
Masonry’s mark of sublimity.
Peering past the temporal guise,
Arrantly aloof to the vale of
Modern masking,
Prim pensive eyes, set on the
Ancient art of man,
Magically muse the distant past.
I shaped an effigy
with pure thought
and focus, sculpting
an instance of sublimity
to be cherished.
Imbued with longing
and mystery, it emanates
ineffable beauty
standing alone immemorial
She pressed against
me in the night,
my emotions fled
as a foreign warmth
enveloped my all.
Hands from every
direction probed, reaching
for something beneath
the surface.
My screams, inaudible,
a result of unbeknownst
pleasures, resonated her
flailing lust and, we fell
into day dreams, shaking
with apprehension and calm
Has been so long since
I had retired my
second sight, and put
my facade to rest.
I don't feel the same
about encounters, I can
no longer grasp or glean
from their significance
Solemnity has taken me
For its child, sequestering
Me to an utopia of blinding intensity,
That which has done away with
My past effigy.
I exhibit new form with
Unvarying confidence
Not seen as change but,
Vagary and caprice;
There is no longing
For recognition.
Timid games of tag
Are played on every corner
These youths shed their
Innocence with every assertive
Proclamation of
“Your It.”
Young girls curiosity in motion
As she cogitates why so frequently
She’s it?
Who cares when all is sublime
and joyous. These subtle affirmations
Summon a time when dirt was
A second a love and play was the
Foremost concern.
When rocks all possessed a timeless
Mythological character imbued with mystery
finding homes
In all available pockets; and
grass was
For chewing and it’s subsequent
Acidic treat.
Now tag is
So complicated
I used to think
--With slightly altered perception--
How intention is
Present…
With endearing gaze, and
Confident mannerism:
A tempest of vast emotions
Flail discernibly,
awaiting the embrace
of a face, receptive
Lectures and Litanies
spoken sub-sonically,
Can you feel, did you recognize
My subtle calls in disguise?
Too much at risk
To plead with words
When so much goes unheard.
Gasps, pauses, inhales.
Flight through murky air,
Morning dew inhibits inertia
Clinging with sparse intensity
Of street peddler,
Disport of queer men
Attracts dubious crowds
Of dormant standbys,
Yellow lurks behind
ambivalent eyes of wonder.
Spending an archaic currency
Love is bought in gray vials,
And sold at street value
of four virgin cunt hairs
And a dirty martini,
A taste unlike any other
Shooting rapture to the sweetest
receptor on the tongue:
an unendurable ecstasy,
myriad of variable pleasure.
Many a square
vexed by the arcane
nature of street folk;
Everyone wants in
to the underground
I am bound to
Something that I can’t
Describe in words
I cry in silent waves,
The wake brings me to my knees,
crawling with ants and other things,
Upon the hill
I bring jewels
And leaves of green
I return with little
Knowing that I
share dreams with many,
the extent of our rapport in
Similar pains and motions
found in fleeting pictorials
veiled by gauze
and obstructed by
intermittent phone calls;
awake with distortion
and dense fog, only
feeling initial discomforts….
A language of facial gestures
and refined gesticulations
must be conceived;
There must be a way
to corroborate things
where words fail me.
Find him at intersections
Lost at the nave
Missing for a pentad,
Found fondling juju beads
In heightened trance
Trying to precipitate
Rain and thunder
With camel walk
And mashed potatoes,
Reflective and buoyant,
Blessed with blind resilience
And caribou feet…
Nomadic disposition of antiquity,
Traversing the whole of Manhattan
for Matisse’s oil drip.
Slick city cunning and
slow country grammar amalgam.
Bleeding the carcass of life
For what it’s worth:
Shun the idiots, and subsist
With mouth wide and
Eyes receptive!
Great escapes to utopia
on silent dreams and withdrawals
carrying valises filled
With desires and vice;
us transients traverse
great distances
to find gold and mercury
beneath similar stones,
speaking ancient dialect
with sharp tongue
and city cunning.
Shadow portraits depict
from whence we came,
scorched on earths surface
remaining cool throughout.
Young alchemist’s words
fire the stagnant winds
and stir new seasonal direction,
the smell of Spring breeze in winter
flutters our senses
and we feel compelled to the
Naked Dance;
like seraphs riding high
we can’t fall
in our attempts to fly;
inaudible shamanistic utterances
sang to the wind…
their vibrations felt in the
far corners of the Orient.
we drink to our success!
She carries freedom
In satin knapsacks, littered with
Rips and holes.
Walk behind her;
Follow the trail of
Free freedom spill.
pendulous gait of
fixed rhythm
and exemplary form,
trailed by a shower of gold as if
she were Danae,
meandering down side streets,
unknown breaks in the walls…
who walks with such grace
for bubble gum and cigarettes?
Immaculate panty line
through black stretch pants
redolent of neither grandmother
nor young harlot.
Just Woman…All woman
Vast collection of
talismans and beaded jewels
lay spread on
coffee stained tables
adorned with cigarette burns,
set above ammonia soaked floors.
Sign reads: Nausea and headaches are welcome,
and there I feel antiquity—it’s constant pulse—And all of
its subtle moans:
Cry of man, child, woman,
serf, peasant, slave.
Wood burning stove
in Virginia outback
warms a cabin while
wild native practices
divination in the snow,
falling from the sky
after momentary levitation
holding beads and peyote,
eagerly awaiting the millennium.
What a scene!
Dancing on the Malecon…
in tube socks and briefs
to the perpetual backfire of
vintage automobiles, and the deep
rhythm of statuesque women walking in heels:
Clack, Clack…Clack, Clack, Clack!
Sudden urges to take on
the role of the lecher
and touch myself in dormant corners…
Can’t get this damn rhythm
Out of my head!!!!
Clack, Clack…Clack, Clack, Clack!
resonating like large
ensembles of percussion
in the halls of the Vatican,
permeating me atom by atom.
Can’t take any more of this
…Wake me up!!!!!
Such a capacity for the
immediacies of life!
So far gone, leaving traces
of light: Aldeberan in the
distance, hue of red, green,
paralyzing beauty at many parsecs.
We communicate via tin can,
Sonorous line of white string
pulled tight,
I live for her vibration,
playing shell games with my insides.
I am a modular madness,
she the manipulator,
pressed in patten leather,
Sadist in a ball gown,
I’m so wound round her,
no slack to be found
on this lustful spool.
For how long
can I linger in
this dubious position,
being visible like
a harlequin on Wall St.,
American in Afghanistan.
Conspicuity and so many questions:
How much longer
can I resist this
Irresistible bitch?
Fading Maglites and
Never-ending vamps
for the sake of getting down.
How much longer?
Insatiable desire remains,
and my problems without variance.
so many apples consumed
and I'm meant not to understand
her luminous smile
fades like amber glow,
the lucid conversation
has a fetter to my attention--
share with me
your everlasting reverie--
That is what I gather
from talking eyes that pierce
with warmth and curiosity.
there is beauty
in her thought...
my imagination bound
to the path of her stare,
Lost in sands in bark,
Intrigued by sinuous motion
of eye lashes,
the taunt of lewd lips!
fascinated by a lascivious tongue
with hues of orange and pink,
inimitable in color.
oh how I'd like to take a bath!
Lost in a myriad
Of pleasant faces,
The gleam of sullen eyes
Show what lay beneath,
The variable distance has no measure
The magnetism of
Your being has its hold, and
I capitulate to you
As a submissive flower
of Spring. Pollinate these forgotten
areas of my soul
With your tangible effervescence,
smiles of bliss and concrete magic.
I am utterly malleable
under the sway of your presence.