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Onoma Dec 2024
nonentity's curvature won't

return from its hermetic seal.

moved to envelopement.

as someone turning a corner,

that you'll never see again.

its depth & volume wound all the

way (an unknown).

despite this side of its curvature

making it so (a known).

something among billions of six

senses coincide to keep it both

sealed & unsealed.

curvature canceled out--shelved.
Onoma Jun 2019
she works birds

of the most fickle color

and wing, throughout

her arms.

as one would a fragrant

cosmetic cream.

a glow leaps off her skin--

covering distances that are

instantaneous pilgrimages.

she flies as she walks, elemental

perceptor of the rishis.

spewing ***, withdrawing the

sword of mind and wiping

its blood.

she paces the most gilded balcony--

sunned seven times over.

clustered of grapes and cupidons--

that walk the vine, sodden in the wine

of samadhi.
Onoma Oct 2021
bade meat in shifting

spotlight.

the veal of a stage pounded.

all the villagers shouting a

unique city.

keeping frayed appointments--

they were always there once.

punctually.

zeroing in on their accusatory

fingers--one gouge shy of an eye.

unblinking talisman.

contraction does not reciprocate.

she's always at the window.
Onoma Feb 2019
rain beats

thoughtfully against

expectant eyes

of love.

unblinkingly focused...

she unwinds

between raindrops.
Onoma May 2016
Green with
the first graces
of nature, leaves
shimmer and
shadow their
bond.
Their earthen
looking glass
cannot be
broken.
Onoma Feb 2019
there are things set in motion

that've come a long, long way.

motion as finite as matter, in an

infinite standstill.

to see you through eventualities

that softly caress your eyelids open.

to the unbelievable impact of love's

recognition, shimmering fringes open

a figure to dance its formation.

in your fateful eyes.
Onoma Jan 2020
your two hands want to

get even with the water

that was met  halfway

against your morning face.

crumbling droplets bringing

out the lights that guard your eyes.

against shining tresspasses.
Onoma May 2019
ring around a black hole--

a mouthful of mantras--

ashes to ashes the seven Saptarishis

sit down.

at peak vibration, they watch

Shakti's hair untangled--

flowing into her last seduction.

where the whitest light blacks

out--and Aum's the sound of

a digested continuum.

Shiva burps.
Onoma Jul 2020
Shiva's pulse has

slowed considerably...

change can barely

position herself

between.
Onoma Aug 2020
a headless elephant of blue-pearled lightning

walks the thunderclap of millennia...

gone across the bridge of quintessence.

where there is not even space for

The Word to speak of--the trishul is raised!

crown, fount and head-wave of an ocean's will

curls, and all its  behemoths roll over like

obedient dogs.

constellated to salt--bitterly sweet as water sees itself.

last radiations of unretrievable grace pried from

form...Shivoham~
Onoma Aug 2023
somewhere it was written

across night--which's the very

same night that appears at the

end of day.

which's the very same day that

has always contained night.

whereon day will be driven out,

there will be no portent of this

banishment--just what is written

across night.

day forced to perpetually read

what it can not reveal.

Shofar wedged back into the idle

skull of an antelope.
Onoma Jul 2016
From the ground
up this trilling
mass,  Shoji of shadowy
birds...the trees are
reacting differently
to the wind, but their
roots are still.
Underground the water
is reacting differently
to the roots.
Shoji: Japenese room divider.
Onoma Dec 2016
A music that tears
itself from harmony...
a candle flame begging a
a pair of lips, should they
couple...how exquisite
the tears.
Onoma Jan 2020
tainted bird nests

in shred-house ciphers.

sallow backlit terraces

of skied lines, wind up

wind.

jack n the box buildings--

melee incongruities.

abandoned workzones on

every other corner.
Onoma Feb 3
Divertimentos in a shrunken head,

brought to mind natural light in an

unoccupied room.

Sent out--unable to get in front of

what it reaches for.

Can't get passed what it touches.

As it slid across a dusty lamp--

supposedly left behind.

Which will click open, as if in

another room.
Onoma Apr 2019
pull out your

sickle and cut

down as many

Buddhas you

encounter upon

the path.

all you'll be met

with is the slight

purse of their overjoyed

lips.

barely containing the

cosmic joke.
Onoma Mar 2023
signature notes of alabaster--

cut, carve & curve their milk.

what models to no end--slid

over by zephyrs of arcadia.

whereon a dusk's peach planets

roll as internal organs.

a muse's strobe lights.

airborne fig leaves tantalizing

a goddess that steps from plinth

to pantheon.
Onoma Mar 9
It's well to lie down in the dimly

remembered--to sign out its cross.

There without moving, coming back--

as from passed what one can see to.

Spread out & up against, there where

the hallowed becomes.

Marked by fire's burnished throne,

not to be succeeded.
Onoma Jan 2017
When the brain
is skinned by
ceasuras of light...
the uni-verse
signs the cross
of its bloom.
Onoma Feb 2022
a piece of night slouched

over--swiveled in the silk

of anonymity.

its emerald sword impaling

the earth.

to the degree its core became

a bud.
Onoma Apr 2016
True rise of true
rise, true fall of
true fall...as if
these gave mind
and body the
mythology of
direction.
Afterall, there's
everafter at every
turn.
Gifted a ghostly
long lock, for
good luck and
good measure...
to keep the pneuma
from transmogrifying
stillness.
A silver cord as
brittle in appearance
as the world it
harnesses to experience.
Where release snaps
silver, lightning return
of no return.
Mainline of soundless
music, en-silvering stars...
cord of web and Word.
The etheric umbilical cord said to tether the soul to the body.
Onoma Dec 2016
As if what's thinly
veiled undone by
spindly fingers...
the limbs of the
tree shook withdrawingly,
as the hand of a great
tragedian.
Laced in ice, one could
see water droplets slide
down their silver tunnels...
in a fine melt.
Onoma Dec 2019
the ones that get away

will continue to do so, it's what

they're meant to do.

wildly flashing their silvery

contingency plans.

though sometimes it's when

they think they're only going

for a swim, do they drown.

that might be also what they're

meant to do.
Onoma Nov 2023
there are warrants

out for your worst

enemies--the similtude

of a body scribbling

on a trampoline.

a slice of Wonderbread,

at those plastic dots.

caught in rain.
Onoma Mar 2020
from time to time

i look in on the will--

she lie on her side.

back turned, pressing

and decompressing--

displaying the respirations

of sleep.

simulating peace.

though in sync, astir with

my every motion.

facing the wall, i know she's

awake--trying to be strong

on my behalf.
Onoma Sep 2020
as sindoor

applied throughout

a devi's body...

with one hand growing

out of another.

her fierce vivacity

out-dancing her betrothal

to arising worlds.

wearing blood-light.
Onoma Apr 2016
Tapping a
singing bowl
the way guard
dropped is
universally
expressed...
reverberating
off the walls
with the sound
of a bird call
yet to materialize...
just as the sound's
about to dematerialize.
Onoma Jun 2019
one dream wakes--

planting feet on the

floorboards of another

dream.

abyssal yawn anon.

cognizing archetypal

starfleets at relative

light speeds.

while milking mind

over singing bowls

of cereal.

birds of prey dangle

like trinkets from blue

backwash, bunnies in

their talons.
Onoma Aug 2021
a poem is a singled

out entity.

leaving no trace.

a phosphorescent

image greater

than the sun.
Onoma Jun 2020
if there is meaning to nothingness,

it is to know it will not return you--

once you have become it.

having attained the singular ache of

boring through cycles of existence.

to finally see the feel of that emergence--

then no more.

to have come to a mountain, as to say this--

to have come to a sky, as to say this.

grating upon one another to acclamate that

phenomenal ache, in anticipation of nirvana.
Onoma Aug 2018
as  a new day beats its energy across

the thresholds of sleep.

i mark the throb, and my eyes open

to you.

singular as worship in a temple...

you're all i see.

i rise to walk through myself--sit,

stare out and let words purify.

right now this is all i can do, to keep from...

as write my way to you.

they offer themselves up selflessly, blinder

than the white of the page.
Onoma May 2019
white rapids that smoke

sage off the faces of boulders--

till their singulated triad oceans.

where cool peace ripples

fathoms spread soft for parting

clouds.

as the sun shimmers the white

transfiguration of great voids.
Onoma May 2020
a barcode

is a cancer cell,

retracing a lost

city.

it's possible to

sink Atlantis twice

through paranoia.
Onoma Dec 2013
I Michelangelo, was fair game amongst human animalia...
until I latched upon the vault of Heaven.
In light of total Absorption...I betook to throngs of glory--
I became a lidless eye, trillion-handed.
All I beheld for four years unblinkingly, was undrunk paint
from plaster drip off a human form, stretching and stretching
to macrocosmic proportion.
It's as if I were painting through a black hole, poised upon
the whitest of emergence.
As it were, upon that ceiling prior to brushstroke there's only
the black of unrealized vision...ravenous blackbirds at their
feeder--then suddenly, the palms of angels cup them...that
they may eat out of them.
I could hear my name glide through: past/present/future...
for I peopled a Heaven, a Hell's dynamic tension--it was
given that I take it upon myself.
That eyes shall look above and know man is more than man,
woman is more than woman...it was given that I situate Us.
Feature the unending moment of creation as chaos harmonizes
upon this ceiling.
Color is so strange...it's immediately superior to my most
creative application--I become the color I apply, as the outlines
of the forms they take become beautiful illusions.
Naturally I worship the outlines of these forms, but neighboring
forms bleed-in so quickly I experience an ecstatic union...countless
times a day the paintbrush falls from my hand.
To that which I've supposed likeness...likeness I paint--I give you
suspended animation, the non local no time of NOW!
Rome was built in a day--I shrunk it down to an Adam...then split
him!!!
Onoma Jun 2024
a six story door,
made of compressed wood--
darkish brown.
upright & unhinged.
shantytown openness.
riddled with keyhole
porousness.
no doorknob.
warped with catalogued
moisture.
a dust pile of bricks
resounding its architecture
in a tumbleweed breeze.
a pod of suns swaying overhead,
like 70s billiard lamps after a
brawl.
Onoma May 2022
with sparkling

skeletal fingers, stars

free themselves--

from imperceptible

black cages.

as planetary atmospheres

hang like wanted signs.

during their solitary act

of escape, they know they'll

evade capture.

reverberating thralls of

nonentity.
Onoma May 2021
the skeletal roil

of sped light,

is a solution to

be imbibed only

when eyelashes

meet like feathers...

and the body becomes

a rendezvous.
Onoma Nov 2019
go ahead,

wack my job--

committ to

something that'll

char your coloring

book.

melting down a seaward

puddle.

all I'll do is skeleton

grin.

leaving you with that--

a slamming door opening

a window.

fresh airs.
Onoma Jan 2024
Jeffrey Dahmer

scratches at a record.

skipping in a freezer.

as hands touch.

the sudden interest in

gross matter.
Onoma Mar 2020
here is the

still life of lighting,

stroking its axial

tear.

narrowed by the wake

of the sky it leaves.

cascading Mother unblinking.

cleaving open Father's eye.

skullcup struck by this unmarked

staff, poles made local in the

poem of this drink.

this yoke that sustains dissolution,

unbroken water.
Onoma Mar 26
Skulls were honey dippers--that

dripped & drizzled down to

dribbled filaments.

A long line of suns rode a ray, as

a hand went up & a figure

approached.

A bouquet of balloons dragged its

comedown on the side of a road.

Gumballs spiked green space, as

it took on amphibious richness--

while an unsaid curfew lifted from

the ground.
Onoma May 2016
Can you hear
the birds of
the air fly
through your
sky-mind?
Onoma Apr 2017
beauty blues by baiting
breaths...tantruming,
posing the uprise
of perfectly fallen light.
sky's headshot, backdropping
backdrop of...
cherry blossoms crumbling
to perform the ceremonial
rights of birds breaking a
****** wing.
Onoma Jan 2019
sky struck white...

a touch too white.

to throw you off

your walk about.

to impress upon you...

a letter's arrival.

so full of love, not

a solitary word

appeared.

you read right...

hanging there just

for you~
Onoma May 2016
When you've filled
the slate of ignorance
with knowing...
wipe it clean with
that Knowing.
Onoma Feb 2015
Tearing through bodies to refresh one...
a raw timetable end to end.
Verily said unto--
sleeper-words activated as
healing agents.
The milky bulbs of elbows
protract, as hands cradle
the back of a head.
The newfangled dreamer
has caught a way.
Somehow has given him/her
someway--an incendiary
stronghold lives to praise this:
one-more-time.
The menagerie of him/her is
rounded up and rounded off...
their flickering numbers profess
animalia half to hell, half to heaven.
A tilt to left or right to actuate
more or less of.
As in so being lorded over by
what passes their perimeters...
hands a hell, a hell--a heaven,
a heaven.
For what's astray passes through
itself in stages...tearing through
bodies to refresh one...a raw timetable
end to end.
Moment of overexposure compounded...
the sleek pulp draped over the
shoulder of night and day.
Onoma May 2017
As this moon-crested body
lie in its ditch.
Sleep became a poem.
That is, at some point
I became aware of a poem's
presence.
So it superseded composition,
yet still was.
It enveloped the: "I" that calls
himself a poet.
The poem was the basis for me,
not the other way round.
I stirred and sank, flailed about
in barehanded awe...unable
to intellectually loot a ****
thing.
Impressions were words, words
were impressions--"I" couldn't
get in front of its beam of light.
I awoke, and knew beyond a
shadow of a doubt, a poem had
written me...one I'll never be able
to recall.
Onoma Apr 2020
sleep forsakes

me--craving

forgetfulness, too many

human beings have

died for this time,

their place.
Onoma Jun 2024
we boarded a cheese bus--

thirty something of us, at

leisurely rates of precocity.

to the: Bronx Zoo.

a field trip, highly

experimental.

thundercracking with beings

of open air & glass entrapments.

there unto the rightfulness

of memory, maybe mine?

a coiled Anaconda sleeping

like a Micheline tire.
Onoma Jan 2024
mummified eye

sockets, bat.

slightly drafting.

the eyelashes of

spiders.

at a loss for legs.
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