Madre* genuflects.
In brown countries of her hands
old beads sweating faith.

I’m burning without
Your fire, your kiss I thirst
April full of Rain.

The Coy-Wolf still howls
At emblazoned snow ball moons
Alone & dire.

'Til all songs are sung,
Mortal breath becoming Wind.
'Til soul learns to swim.

Often times when reading the messages
poets metaphor in rhyme,
in reason and allusions and imagery

they say the same thing--as if they all of 'em took
a class together on love

they say "love is relative..."

relative to what?
to whom or how or when?
like a family member twice removed,
an aunt, a grandmother's warm smiling
invitingly familial

be it an impromptu emotion, described grandiose
and Hollywood acclaimed,
love seems
     obscure
     demure
     fickle at times
     wishful
     blissful
     fervent even
     magically
     restless
     with its deliciousness
on and on so it goes / without saying too  much
how it will breathe
new life into those
     lackluster
those without
yet who are
     consumed    
     hollow
those without hope, suddenly are given it
     anew
     vividness
     An energy miraculously appears,
In HD the world is seen / absolute brightness
faultless and star-filled
     clear..

Yet it well can cause
our worst of fears
of wars / casualties / gruesome endings
   tragedies
   :a movie
with Shakespearean poetic pain,
the pentameter of the mortal heart
   sonnets of our human condition
   :a documentary
   of life
   conflicted
it is a cause many have and will bleed
for, some even die for,
searching and reaching out
whether in vain
or suffering in the pain find
awakenings
Then again
that's what it's all about ...

it is relative, to what or why
in life,
     pragmatic,
     fractal
human feelings reign -  yet a populace
of loneliness, millions of neighbors
never extend an open hand or invitation
so love can be difficult to find

in the sea of Man,
of many  a world separated
it strikes like lightning, they cliche
     quick
     unannounced
     unstable
it happens without warning, cupid's arrow
hits, descriptively it must be a wound..?

yes / yet no / unknown

it has begun: an end
to a means - a chemical thing
(hypothesized
in scientific circles,
I guess
just one of those undefined
Unexplainables)

like crop circles
in the wheat fields of the heart it is
sometimes
unpredictably appears
     obscene
     wild
     flavorful
     rigid
     rarely
     mean
     spirited
     ferocity
at times...
all the while

in nature's law of strength versus luck,
small prey to a predator : eat or be consumed,
love is not recognized (or is it? by the animal)
mate and procreate in their simplest terms.
Does a shark check out it's female before it decides
to release his *****--take it on a date, a swim in the riptides?
a bite of sushi first?

Empress bees and others with their queen-ruled colonies
birth a world from one,
does she feel the same for her thousands of husbands
fathers of her millions of children spawned?

love is relative... love is blind
another descriptive fallacy
invented by folk without husband or wife or vision
nor same-*** partners : universally
known in these modern communities
of man-made homes
and tomes ...
blind ... as if like a person, the word
unable to see,
inept of decisions, making a finale,

who will stay by the miens of our simplicity
flesh and feelings
     silent servants
     beguiling
     hidden
     treasures

Now imagine lightning striking
     suddenly
     real
     unabashed
     fulfilling
     electrifying
     sensual  
     salivation

far beyond restrictions of the flesh/ ***,
past times and her finite
musings, they say it will go on and on

"forev'a ev'a? forev'a ev'ah"

so it goes / the song repeatedly plays.
so then i say, as long as we are
still the masters
of this life's age, kings of consciousness,
of intelligence and rage
Love tho'
     fleeting
     Careless
     Whispers
It’s like
     Being
     Liked
     Obsessed over
     quenching kissed
All yours
     lessons-learned
Feeling aloft in flight
Love
will stay  

And as witnesses to war
or after : in peaceful days,

O the one true thing

I have seen of love's relativity:
love is relative to humans
and our
being
whether blind or whether seeing
It’s yours and mine
Divinely seeking.



(Free of will & full of meaning
Love is the truth
All Life is feeling...)

Make the streets my poetry

Write down what they'll confess...

Humidity

From

Our Souths,

Mercury beads we sweat

Glistening

Members.

A hard shell to crack,
the mind is a cuckoo's nest,
if and then you break.

Now bold to keep hold
of child idle wishes,

when in all a boy's life
the bliss is true in kisses.

Verbose promises mostly misses.

What is corporeal is made real
in beloved eyes' appeal

yet just one is giving deepnesses,
heaven half realized in their weaknesses.

A sunken heart congeals.

Framed in little honest pictorial pieces.

There’s spirituality in that

Music

“Oats in the water”

Apocalyptic loss (of true love)

Serenade me, Ben Howard.

Lullabied

Tears in my eyes

There’s magic in that

Love...

Soylent Green / by:b.decatoria


These names of prey
In “His Name” they pray
Men name
The products on the shelf
Hot dog / Burgers / mixed
Bacon obits. &
Illegals
Wet backs
We the people / matters
Of lives
Chinks and Blacks
The ***** stacked
The Street Meat
The Addicts
Shopaholics Alcoholic
The names of prey
We, the products,
On the shelf.

Prelude to a vaccine :

The strangeness of things,
How odd that everything’s disconnected
Separation anxiety
How strange these days viral, pandemic,
How unreal
The behavior of some
So-called honor of some badge and gun…

Since from when this illusion began,
From out the mouths of men —first:
The falsities, misinformation,
Fraudulent fictions frenzied untruths
From out the mouth—Flew,
Flung out into the Blue, into
   /our intersecting lives

The Lies ricochet as chaos does
Darkened ripple effects, from Bad to bed then
Worse of all —it felt good Being on fire,
how’s it suppose to feel
For the liars?
Too many prisons, no one would do good,

How odd these peoples, surrounding us,
Breathing heavily,
—cough sneeze hiccup’d
All still strangers really, if only…

The darkness hides inside so well
One can’t tell when *******
Lies or infection hits
How strange this hell, devoid
Of fans
No one cares to give a ****.
What the Hells man?!

Loud hurtful words mean nothing in the void of space.

Uninspired

By and by a passersby

Another grace for grains of sand

Loiter lingering longer

Down low below beneath your toes

The sublimity of heaven

Farther furthest spaces

Within and beyond the fleshy faces

Far from firmament and sacrament

The stages we pretend perform

A jig getting down jiggy without

The doubt that cuts not rugs

But peace of mindful tiers

Enlighten me to wake yet feign

To not feel endangerous the hollow

Spaces that wide open

A nothingness of soul

A sky of soot and funeral silt or soil

We darken our glow to not toil

Thou wilts

Give praise,

This miracle of days to witness

Nothing else we make less

But ourselves

With fear and doomsday loudly

Cry.

Each scintilla of a sigh profoundly

Forever feels like

A spark

Big banged life's boomerang

Why worry to go hurry in lines

Manga tales

Minds bright implosions

Think tank

We drank and wankers

Laugh

Feeling glad bags

Full of glory.

You are one in this box

Sphere made of fear

Shape your story.

Don't drown in the Gobi

Or such empty tears

Eyes panorama grand o holy!

Sshhh.

be we wide awake...?

(To’lly)

Am I oddly misshapen
By the cruelties of life's dross
It's last shavings

Am I the funhouse flavor of the week
The freak the crowd gawk
The audience pay to peek

How could someone as scarred
As myself has always been
Be as beautiful as the words

I bleed poetically

How could someone such as me
Be as legend as mythic
As Shakespearean and as lovely

They will wrench their eyes
At any blossoming or
Palm their ears to keep from witnessing

From nothing else to grieve
Nothing else but my flowered dreams
To be seen from words

Love is light
To darkness is obscene...

If similar are we
Life of true effervescents
Beautifully -- the written spoken soul

Fragrantly
Eternally
From the heart's ocean width
Completes

While an ugly cage is made
World of blind conditioning
Aimlessly

We must search for
Mystically
The beloved
Here Abouts and
There on high

Your children of life
Admonishing
Lovingly
                                  To Thee
Universe and sky

Oh my Love
You are all
                                    poetry...

*(even an ugly tree as me
   Cannot deny the rain when it falls
   And in the same
   Instance
   Quenchingly - I swim in
The drink of great awe

You're Infinite / Love)

Can't

Describe you

To the blind

Best

Speak

for yourself.

Here we lay flowers
where we bury our loved ones
close our eyes in prayer.

If heaven is Up,
and night sky so full of stars,
I will awe instead;

Wonder which one shines,
how bright the life that was you?
A floating lantern

With a lotus flame
Lift up in memory of
Amaranthine you.

Is it "somewhat" convincing or strongly

Egregious

To have the planet spill

It's hades-deep caldron-lungs

Toxic fumes of green and sulfurs

Bubbling ooze gaseous fumes

Agree or degrees that disagree with bones

The flesh boiling

The mad mad Red that colors wrath

Cyclones down alley doom

Is that global

The warming of storms forewarning

As always looms

Like the undecided leaning

For domicile times

Rock the boat and get out and

Vote

Yay or nay / choose shameless

Be the fool

In the sins of ignorance

Bliss is as fleeting

As a kiss

This fool for love, knows nothing

But to keep the distance

2500 Ft.

Away from homes and all

Lively

masterpiece.

(We are products of our inhalations

And exhalations

Weeping

Oceans

Blue we

Breathe.  2500 Feet of Peace)

Beyond that who knows?

Water birthing dreams.
Asleep in subconscious deeps,
Lucid with nascence.

All eyes widely stare
At Abercrombie models,
Them beautiful boys.

Sincere, surly American accents

Amany humble apologies spill

Likewise the well wishes

A many ways to say or quill

"Thank God for you"


Precious things reminding few

Occasions many of appreciation's due.

Like “Connect the Dots”
Rorschach ink blots, shapes of clouds,
Mind maps the Heart’s drive.

My heart's poetic
Day/ Fires, bright in these eyes :
Love poem of you...

Tell me a story about your bag of feelings
The wheeling and dealing
How it pains you, how it drains you
Of your soul —the crime that frames you
Stealing and killing the meaning of life
Tell me about your bag of feelings.
Right…

Lost story of your feelings,
The empty hollow congealing
A shadow without light,
Lies
Dies. (Without Light)
Worthless bag of feelings…
Plight.

Spring break, Mexico.
Humid nights and "Shots-shots-shots!"
Black eyed Girl gone Wild

Cuz because the love of parents
should not would not will not lie
nor must not be not ever denied

Be respectful and confide, fearless with truth;
since love itself is mostly
if not only always right
Cuz because our hearts are wise
(Remember be good in kind...)

So then guardians will and trust
and must keep an eye,
though their words are of instruction,
with logic and reason - what if and why,
assist in the up lifting of our futures' minds

Yet remain the reminders of follies before
and guide with guiltless light

Look 'em in the eyes!

Cuz because Love don't lie,
it's alright
let them wander beyond the shore
have 'em ready at the door
say "I love you"
all the while
living anew your wan of life

Keeping in touch
still keeping an eye
cuz because it's never too much
loving wise parents
are allowed to gush...

and to the mindful ascendants
the children we adore
it would be kind to do your darnedest
make us proud
stay true and warmest with every smile
often visit with laughter loud,
And sit and talk for awhile...

Cuz because
our circle is / of Life
wraps itself back around
yes, would be wise to love 'em Now...

Cuz just because.

It’s an invisible string

Love is

The unspoken language between us

That words misunderstand.

It’s the tie that binds

Our unspoken

Conversations

Understanding.

(The look).

Oh yeah!

I love to dance with

my hands

Also love to dance

Together

Hand to hip

Lower her back

A dip, her hair-flip

Sweep round and

Back

Hand in hand

Heart to heart

A kiss on her neck

“Mi passione’s si”

Waltz to cha-cha to hip-hop

Running Man He sure be

But man, I love to dance

My very first

Romance.

Dance.

dHope.

Free.

I've been gone too long,
Away from the heat of equatorial suns
Motherland islands of my birth
I'm a foster child, Americana
In the excess of her privileges
I've grown accustomed to milk & honey
Though without her wealth
Lacking big love and money
I'm no longer so native
My skin has turned pale
I've been away for so long
I'm dying here
Sunburnt and food poisoning
Oy Americano! you're too white boyish
Won't survive our ways
As always I never could fit in
Can't find where I belong
Got nothing but certainty where I go
Knowing afterlife I'll love the glow...

"Who?" rather than tweet
in the dark, keenly will see
all her nameless prey.

Pardon those who stare
Such quixotic features laud
Eyes that escape us.

Archipelago's
Seven Thousand islands long
Golden / Mango / songs...

Self aware yet numb
How-to instructions to know
How to feel be loved.

Silver spoon-fed fixations

Littering wasted

City living concrete

Mean street-habitations

Blackened foil-thin

Syringes and

“Cigarette butts

Felatio-Red lipstick stains

Like age-rings of Sin City”

Like great trees

Of iron

Proof of affliction

Taint in between city

Homelessness and transience

Broken system

Silver Spoon

Feeds fixations...

1/20/2020 MLK day

And I wonder if Dr. King would be proud of Jay-Z --in 2019 became the first African American billionaire? (Oprah not that far behind) while millions more in the populace still work for minimum wage, even white Americans. All ethnicities in our "melting ***" it seems.

What is witnessed on TV is all illusion, political propaganda of American wealth. We're kept in line with lies and promises by corrupt leaders, as the country and it's house on the Hill divides.
We watch them celebrate their picture-perfect lives, millionaires paid by our taxing, happier than we (the people) who fight their wars. Even afterward, the wars here against inequality.

None care to share the wealth, to better lives, not even our education; information's omissions, as the News talks down at us, redirecting our attention to *** changed Kardashians. And most who're stupid believe it, or could care less.

So what now? Who's left to save us, to make things right? When even the righteous churches choose their parties, their money's in no short supply. Profiting off of nature, fracking old fossils fueled by greed, getting richer (even now from legalization of our highs) as the planet dies.

It's MLK Day  and I'm asking why --aren't we free at last?
(And I'm not even black).

Epic… currents from a frozen heart,
tales, obsessions
A wrenching, unfreezing fist
raising sails
Like molten summits of emotions

To know one's own deepnesses
One's own submariner seas
How to breathe in it:

Darker trenches / squalls / the uncharted
Abysses alien to airy rowan cliffs and breeze
The cold of it lacking breath

Tho' Open sky, song of suns
Warms the flesh of its perception's anchor
Certainties
Tides
Symbiosis

The Brine

From icebergs of inexperience
To thirsts quenched
As Droplets
Borne from glaciers
Dancing ice

Drift
Rinse
Worlds, mine
Like ships in the night
Silhouettes in passing
Upon romancing
Skyline starlit moon
For the shadows since denied
The doubtful fall
These journeys now I choose to suffer

Thaws all such icy
Fears
In winters' noose
And from loss of strength
Sojourn hearts
No longer sharing
Meiosis breaths
or sail upon the truth

Accompanied
No one there—

Now singing sirocco
Aye aye captain!

Across the vast places
Frozen with no names
And arctic with none to blame
Map-less voyages of
Nautilus
Ahoy, Sir Loneliness!
Shameless
To Desolation, go—

A life cage,
If mine
Banished
On Tundra of time

Stalactites

This,
My own unfreezing
By simple choice, sublime.
Captain kid again, all mine
Joy the light
Truth my life

My whale of a ride
****
Epic.

What is the cost?  How high the price?

Our system of hypocrites and capitalize

Purchase a ticket to ride

To this land of milk and honey

Engorged ego and hoaders of paper money

Collectors of dust antiquated lustful for

Antiques

Road show sideshow side *******

Jones having too many itches

Fever is what we teach...

(Freedom is not having

To ask for permission to ...)

Pursuer of happiness be aware

What comes cheap around here

Is just despair,

The cost of elevating

Far from the pains or wanting or cares

Is just another addiction

Legalized

Oh mon frere, we cannot share

What freedoms we give birth

Were conquered long enslaved,

White fathers who scorch the earth

Have new chains, a price to pay

Welcome to the U S of TandA...

The onion and the artichoke both have layers,
But it’s the artichoke which has a heart. Don’t marry an onion.

Would you if
Could you with
A gift of any wish
Granted /
Change
Beauty
Or what they deem to be
The ugly
in humanity
Simply (for one's own comfort)
To see and to shape
Satisfactorily
It's property…

Metamorphose.

So suppose
You could impose
Your willing whim on Man,
Or make refined
These grains of sand
To cry

Change sweet sugars
To sour lime

And with this power on a dime
Create your own heart
To love / to shine
Maybe even shape the world
With peaceful times!?

As always
rain will fall
As war
Often loudly screams to be
Consistently and capitalistically
Decreed

A Disagreeing discord
Ever more......

But if you could
And if you should
With every beef and steer
Against the odds angst and deep
Defeatists' endearing fear
Educate the darkness
How it can be lifted by
A single spark,

Would you

If could you

Should have

With a gift
Of a single wish:
Recognize Our Heart

A good place to Always
Start...


(Stay true for you are Art)

There a strangeness in witnessing
The orient comely tours these western shores
The America of purple majesty's fruitful plains
Odd to watch them spill across the cities
Snapping pictures of our structures
(Chit chat Ching a ling-ling judgingly)
A secret in their tongues' tintinabulations,
Snapshot instagrams snapchat "*******!"
Get a load of that!
Even through the concrete
Between the unforgiving stone
American Daisies grow
The country of Impossibles...
(Perhaps that's why they take so many photos,
It all seems unreal, or maybe
Each is a puzzle piece
To gather Intel of what will not stay...)
Guess it's up to you and time to tell
It can go either way,
Still, it's strange to witness
All such business -- tourists here
today...

1.
Burn as dry incense,
To cleanse airs and veils between.
So the Light is gleaned.

2.
Sinai's burning bush
Banished Moses witness All,
Truth, evergreen.

3.
(Confucius #9)
What wisdom tells me
of antiquities and worth:
dead can't keep... nor count.

You are an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea--jason mraz

* * *

"Talk to John about your ****."

"Got fired for that ****."
"Got paid to do ****."

"No ****, really"

"Its all the same ****, different day"

" Words are only words, you ain't ****."

" Time to get woke, and get **** done."

"oops, just Sharted"

" You'll pay for that criminal ****, if you didn't know"

"Shiiiit"

" Don't sleep where you shat"
" Don't **** where you eat"

"Quit the ****
If it don't help your **** or
Better your ****"

Clumsy in Mom's heels,
Curious toddler wanders
Clown-faced, smeared in rouge.

Those Grinder

Power Bottoms

Are said

To converse

Spread-eagle...

Wear the streets as the color of your skin

Some mostly see the ghetto

Or a jungle,

Watch what happens when you call me monkey...

These fists!

But when you look upon me as a friend

(Open hands clap clap

Secret handshake)

What Ev's to the "man" you work for

Let's kick it in your whip

Have the bass bounce off our teeth

It's all good to see you too

Let's keep the good ripples lit

Smile positively genuine

Groove and rolling down the street

We mean no harm

Just

AX  

No body gives a ****

Hip to game

Hop over the chain

This is the future, can't deny me mines...

Better be quick with wit

The Smarts no ****

Yet true to thine shine

Living loving

Floetry...

On the morrow comes
Hope with great expectations,
Always toward the Sun.

In King Pigeon Pose
She meditates with eyes closed.
Strengthens inner cores.

Sands of Time's / oxymoronic  flaccidity of minute / hands /
slowly passing.

Caducous leaf from the face
Of the great oak woods
Who’s breadth is our breath, green

One moment turns seasons
To barren earth, deplete without droplets
Tears after deluged prayers
Each word a falling leaf
Followed by many Caduceus’
White sheep of Scientology,
Wealthier by way of grief...

Caducous abacus quantifiable belief
Rather than mana
Dead presidents in the baskets
Sidewinding through the pews
Cadences of inner truths
Suits in caskets...

Whispering confessions tenfold
Asking for forgiveness, pay the toll,
Ulysses, Lee in the Collection till
Caducous, go, Atticus
Abacus masses, California fires,
They believe in another green

The falling leaves empires
Made it rain, “precious” is on stage.

Fall
Before reaching spring
Steel our heaving
Barren winters still
Landscape without Breathing
Plant your seed
Atticus
A Caducous Leaf
In August

Sunlight
Moments Afire
The length of love
Infinite among The stars
We mortals
In our Dark...
Night.
Retired

Too soon to sleep
We falling leaves
Whose breath is green...

My kind of company:
the artistic speak-easy lime-light
underground


weaving through brick boxes
the four walls the carpet/floor
up on eaves that hide the heavens
kept quiet like the caged bird

is

flying as it twitters / sings
past pretty prisoned things...

But my kind, he cradles freedom
waltzing through the walls
metaphoric boxes and coffins

our vision

in a waltz, as if the small of her back
were bass strings, gentle passion chords
touch  like braille to blind meaning

while the left hand above the head
always cups hers / perfect and soft
(hands - like a glove)

And my kind, again
she is a smile, like Divinci's fortune
her heart similar to Mona Lisa

is

kept secret (a curve of quiet flesh)

lips purse patience
while the vanity in affairs with airs
of eyes, wagging tails, and talk, swells
out there in the hours foretelling

the lovely song soon touch

beloved

all the feeling --ethereal and divine
as the shadows chime red wines
and woes the proclivity
of cages and walls and travels...

But the kind are
withheld / kept / proper

like abeyance with antique shoes
it
is
unmoved to bother

But my kind
goes on so,
they dance, and they tango
and all are moved as any who glance
upon great beauty
a canvas of poetry
or taste du cuisine

from the heart
springs / of the art / sings
a gentle breeze on an August day

whirling passerby
cooling the sweat from brow & nape
sharing the shade
a refreshing drink

(the milk of Tao)
Enlightenment.

My kind of character,
a kind friend I should think,

is
accepting

is
unapologetic

compliments
all and one another

we thank all
the heavens for
the Light
of our beautiful days.




(my kind rejoice
together not the same)