Your tongue speaks
The language of my lips
Fluently

The shelter,
The harbor,
The home,
The heartfelt warmth
Weaving through marrow and bone,
Undulating softness like no other
All in the lulling of a song,
The voice of the mother.

She keeps hijacking the most pure
Of my metaphors
I wonder if she
Sells them in slavery
To him;
Forced into prostitution
To the ****;

Who sells their own children
To their lover/business partner?
My only weapon is now
Saying the truth out loud

She offers him stolen
****** expressions
as sacrifice
but they were mine
I grew and nurtured them
I fostered and guarded them
And she took them away

They were merely thoughts
in my garden with osseous walls
I showed them to her,
gave them her tears
and her smiles,
gave them her names;
She picked them and ran,
claimed them not even
all for herself…
but for him…
the foreign body

This is merely one
in a line of treacheries
and I will no longer
allow her to fall
any further
into this monstrous
scar of transgression.

Caught a wave,
snatched the chance
to ride the tide;
took me straight
through the goosebumps,
the antennae
of the skin
protracted and receiving

...and the ripples multiplied

I always thought
the depths were cold,
not warm
but melody knows best
and I can't wait
to be surprized
holding breath
in the uneasy calm
before the storm

she wants the world to know
she wants to show
she wants to know the world
personified
she wants that world to want
to know her
she kissed his mind
with lips of words
she wants the world
to know her

marriage is
just two letters
longer than
mirage
(penned by different feathers)
but is Mr. Age
what matters
as he does
for cars in a garage?

the sun god reaches out for me
index finger, a fiery beam
to claim my heart again
for the new day
for today's sunset
for tomorrow's sunrise
pierce the indigo cloak
rip it out through broken ribs
the prison bars asunder
claw it out from me
and make me cling
to dear life
compelled to fight
find in strife
what I lost in comfort

My look perched on its medicine,
Twin hazel pills approaching slowly
Going down even slower,
My look took the dose that I tried to convince the doctor, is insufficient
I was told I couldn’t get another prescription
I’d have to adjust and make do, and cope, and adapt…
My doctor says it’s for my own good
And in time I’d feel more appreciative, less trapped
But I don’t really have time… it’s the other way around
And time has Me instead… And I refuse to be a resource to be had
I just want those caramel pills
I just want to feel the sun spill into my heart…
With an unending kiss that bears your name...

heart, a softened shard
thumping deeper than itself
I insert music in my ears
Picking things, living and inanimate,
snatching from all around me;
I put reality in my pocket,
kidnapping eyes
as I build my time-armor
to crunch the kilometers
so hard to swallow
feeding the cogs of routine
daily and hourly bits of myself

I do know lip-reading
But that smile
Demands for tactile

archangels banish the devil
in the depths of your heaven
like a non-violent exorcism
the likes of which I haven't witnessed
sentimental plague covers our
binary consciousnesses
until the veil burns off
and the ashes feed the land
till it softens
wiping clean the mourning
desiccating grief
from the haunting
worshipped debris
embedded rootless
to the thick of the longing
to the excised fat
of past-time reveries
yet the ivory towers
still stand bared
amidst newborn flowers
sparing no sand
from the hourglass
for an epitaph
for only tomorrows
carry redemption
promising blossoming

cold drops falling
soft leaves slowly
sliding crystals
the soil again
becoming rich
color taking fill
lungs come whole again
one with the rest
connecting the opposites
into the loop ever stirring
the wheel slowing down
never stops turning

Everything is so slow when I have no bridge to you… everything is the pace and longevity of the kiss I dream your lips in… but time is a reverse-caress…

The Catcher In the Rye reboot trilogy; sequels comprise Pitcher In the Rye and part 3: Batter In the Rye. The love story of a ball and a glove, whom a bat tried to separate. Stay tuned for the spicy novel 50 Shades of Homerun, where the characters go through all the bases, all the way to the home...

My broken lightbulb,
I have conserved your light
Unto my pages
Stop raining shards
You are weeping now
Inconsolably
Your crumbling body
Wasting further away
Unnecessarily
Beyond return
But you will find no solace
In my eyes
In my skin
Where you cut and you burn
For you’ve been but a shining
On my ceiling
That I’ve let too long replace the sun

Drunk on liquor metaphors
High and falling fast
No direction in the clouds
Why does winning feel like losing
Why does your image burn
So extraordinarily
On the inside of a skull box
I am tossed away from answers
I’m a coin in the fingers of the sun
The last hundred flips were
Unsatisfactory
The white puffy scarves
Only swirl into themselves
Sympathetic, yet,
Not bothering to reach out
Because
They know they aren’t strong enough
To catch me
Or break the fall
But my lips are wings
Stretching into flight

My amputee heart
Recognized its long lost
Severed limb
A recurring phantom
Of a feeling
Naturally grown
Excised at its ripe
That you were the root
And the blossom
The marrow of the joint

How come... so well preserved...
Frozen? For so long.
Perhaps it still demands
To serve a purpose
One that hasn’t coped
With moving on

the sky is death
(unbeknownst…)
the sky is closer than you think
you’ve been living upside down
you cannot fly or swim
the sun takes all
the sun will swallow you

light rented your body
and it will take it back
nothing can ever be stolen
for nothing is truly possessed
you are just as cursed as you decide
and you can be as blessed

As my footsteps disappear into puddles
And the ripples go silent
I put to doubt
The things we make
Of mud today
As knowledge travels
Rails of science
Instead of the path
Of knowing time
We’re sending light
Where it wasn’t meant to be
Like the greatest of all angels did

We have turned learning into
An autopsy of everything
Lobotomizing every liberty
Analyzing mistakes to find
Better excuses
Bitterly abusing conscience
And sapience
Numbed by the applause
Of every new Eureka!

To war!
The queen commands,
Battalions defend at once!
The battleship is pounding on her shores;
and past defensive lines extends
the front of the invading force,
retreats, regroups,
rallying the troops,
the enemy is pouring through the doors.
Her thoughts are soldiers finally expired.
Her generals now under heavy fire.
Yet she's the one who, after all,
this battle, skillfully,  provoked.
It seems that she forgot
that cold wars can turn hot.
She managed for awhile to slow down the assault.
Now the end draws nigh when final hill embattled falls.

carbon - the backbone
of our density
so unexpectedly flexible
that the marrow
is woven of poetry

light blue - as in light enough to fly; blue enough to fall; a pull in both directions; pooling inflections of the light-wave sifted through the dark weave; near-symmetrically mindful of the sent and received

I no longer
wear hats
or drink from cups

the eyes of cats
are searchlights
and curiosity
is killing us

Don't keep this
hidden inside
behind the windows
beneath your eyelids

You shy away
from the flare
in my gaze,
the light bulb
in your room,
lit blindingly
between the
osseous walls

I’ve seen shooting stars,
Their, bodies, burning undesired
Thrown away
Like banished tears
From the dark pupil of the sky
I’ve been holding the hand of
A decade worth of dreams undone forever
So they could achieve dreams of their own
Before my gaze
I’ve held their ghosts in my arms
I’ve been standing at a full “I mustn’t” worth of distance
From their lips
I’ve been filling in vain, the bottomless glasses
Of the most beautiful words,
That spring from the electric spark
Beneath the ribs
I’ve been leading the guerilla squads
Of my beliefs
Against the empire of Impossibility,
And its most decorated generals: Doubt,
Insufficiency, Wrong…
I’ve lied face-down, hands tied behind my back
For that traitor, Restraint…
But now… I forgive him now…
And now, Empires fall on their own
Now those dreams unachieved,
Meticulously paint their eyes
Wrinkled from the salty trickles,
That realization has drawn towards me
For I’ve always known that…
Loving is now or never
You cannot wrap it in tinfoil
And freeze it for later
Yet, they, those morally unattained, chastely righteous dreams,
They do arrive at Knowledge station
Aboard the Intuit train,
Atop the tracks of true common sense,
Alas, too late.
My loving is given now
To Fulfillment,
For it chose now to never
And caressed my scars of restraint
With warm fingertips
And kissed my see-through “I mustn’t” from the other side of the wall
To melt away the distance to my bloodless lips

Thought you got me in your grasp
Fallen in your hands,
Money in the bank
But
I'm a human hand grenade
you’ve pulled the safety pin away
division now awaits
the careless

You rearrange the constellations
Of my compass
With the grace of an orchestra
With the majesty of symphony
Yet you keep my central star intact
The spine of the cellular staircase
You shine the way
Two steps at a time
Not leading; keeping company
On a voyage in the dark
Beneath the sails of night

She said "to hell with your dreams" and "let's do like the others"
I told her, to me, there could be so much more to discover;
"Join me, I said, this insanity burns with countless tomorrows"
"Forgive me, forget it", she pled, "you're on a road I can't follow"

She wants every poem
To be about her
She wants the foam
Of every wave
As the skintight
Dress of dusk;
Divine forces be her tailor
And every Olympian as
The servant-king
To every whim of hers

Do you remember me
because I do
remember you
like the sea waves -
the shore sands;
for I surrendered truth
into the scarred hands
of time
where our silence
left its hesitation marks...

I am casting shadows
to stop the growing
smiles of petals
for they are feeding thorns
carving poems on my skin
but
I can't unlove your demons

natural elements
meet
unnatural monuments

primal ingredients
mixed
in a mold of obedience

we'll have none of this
and flee
dull predictability

we weren't meant to be
asleep
through the voyage of history

so we daydream in mutiny
to feed
newborn possibilities

And the breath she took
Didn’t cool her down
The heat was spilling out
Thirst began
To scale her tongue
Lips and legs ajar
The fire spread within the dark
Until it rained
And clouds embraced
Sighs escaping smiles

Everything is digital printed on glass by silicon
All analog feelings, a thing of the past
Like a million years ago
And emotions are coal
Buried deep beneath stone
And steel and concrete
Like our bones are
Beneath our plastic skin

fingers grasp around you
the ribs of my embrace
slicing solitude in ribbons
wrapping new flesh
with shy promises
filling up the body
of a possibility
its youthful iridescent eyes
now blossoming
giving out near-future sparks
to the world-pyre

I found out that I’ve known
The language of the autumn
All along
But she couldn’t handle
Her own
Transitive verbs
And the silent consonants,
The stressed vowels
That brought her sorrow
I was pure torture when
I spoke to her
With a passion that
Shed her chills
In cold tears
Stabbing shards
Crashing in my ribs
I was our undoing
Inevitable as winter

and with their hands of words
they reach towards
my thoughts to slice them
to widen the cut
and tear open
my intricacies
digging for spice and mud

as you unsheathe analysis
I devour all the violence
of voyeuristic
snaking
searing intentions

I will not allow
this foul transparency
to be my autopsy

The ghost of spread lips
will haunt the house
inside your skull
because
there's nothing wrong
with being who I was

cities with their
glass skin
iron bones
gray flesh
of concrete
and a soul of
light bulbs
silhouettes,
the skylines…
the giants that
swallow us whole
because
we didn't know
how to stop
the magic of
the beanstalk
and now
that we have raised
our titans to unite us
we gave them will
we gave them back
the gift of fire
and it returns
to **** the life in
to burn the bridges
throughout and within…
our Atlases...
are they home
the shelter, still,
or are they now
the labyrinth
and the Minotaur

You’re a blunt trauma from a sharp weapon
You’re the highest of the low-hanging fruit
You’re a dark day to a vampire waiting for the sun
You’re this year’s May that I might as well not...
You’re such a hidden button during ironing “I can’t even…”
You’re the diagonal towards the end of an up-down-down-forward-back-back combo
You’re the most unexpected choke one gets by their own saliva
You’re a Ferrari keeping quiet about a handling defect until it’s too late
And me… I’m just as perfect as you are…
Only not as articulately pronounced…

*

Ти си натъртване от остър предмет
Ти си най-високия от ниските плодове
Ти си мрачен ден за вампир, който чака слънцето
Ти си тазгодишния Май, в който май не бих…
Ти си така скрито копче по време на гладене, че даже не мога…
Ти си диагонал към края на комбинация от горе-долу-долу-напред-назад-назад
Ти си най-неочакваното задавяне причинено от собствената слюнка
Ти си Ферари с премълчан дефект при завиването докато не стане твърде късно
А аз… съм точно толкова съвършен, колкото и Ти
Но по-неотчетливо изказан...

Carrion wings hang limp
On the backs of broken yesterdays
I don’t want them in any proximity
I cannot bear the stench
But vultures come along like doubts
At the speed of darkness
To save the undying from burial
And bring them back to me,
The predator feathers of prey wings
I man the guns myself and
Call all hands to battle stations
And it starts raining
Exhumed evidence
That the buried hatchet often is
A boomerang seeking fulfillment
With the new found vengeance
Of primeval sapience
Burning mad with
Insatiable curiosity

Heart is singing loud so loud I can't hear other sounds but the rushing bloodstreams
Head is yelling uncontrollably
"oh my god the brakes are severed; Reason's gonna die in a horrendous high-speed crash"
they're pulling Common Sense out of the wreckage mangled on the seat beside the driver
something happens to the flow of time and there's a comatose thought still left alive
voices fading in calling names some crying some sifting words through teeth
you look what you did you killer, liar, thief, deceiver, cheater, coward, selfish hypocrite
Guilt will lead the trial but the tried is firm with silence
See you, Heart, don't forget to write and the conjugal visits, after all I'll do Your time

secret agent
nearing endgame
chessboard of patience
unraveling sapience
burning the haystack
the needle will come up
delivered in charred black
the countdown is on track

And some might say
I've lost my way
But who are they
To judge
When numbers rule
Our nights and days
A life of Midas' touch

And all of those
Who quantify
All the good and woe
Will be too vain to realize
They are their own foe

And some might say
I've lost my way
A sentence I'd forgive
But it's the dreamer, not society
Who, the way forward, shall cleave

Beneath the facade
The opposite awaits
So few though, I let in
Because my friend,
This heart of mine,
It may not be a temple
But make no grave mistake
For it’s neither a brothel

The puppet master's gone completely mad
Who knows when
Weaving webs of chaos
Knots collide
Casualties fall
And so I do not know
What he was before
But now I’m sure
He is a spider
Eating his own
Children

I feel the call of Arachne
The pull of fine threads
And in the rifts between
The web of thoughts
The interlinked highways
Of my inner circle,
A hunger wakes
The lids of eyes are jaws
And I promise you rebirth
If my love consumes you
If I loved you now to death

I’m walking around the sun
Witnessing a new dawn that’s
always there and I
Can never reach it
Walking around
Such a distance
It’s hurting to see it just
Exist
Wondering what it is
And me, I’m not even considered a planet anymore
As if my celestial body does not have
A correspondingly celestial mind
I am both present and gone
Merely taking up space
In someone’s classification
Of spacetime
Pluto...Out…

*   *   *

Ходя около Слънцето
Гледам новата зора която винаги е там
И никога не мога да докосна изгрева
Обхождам
Толкова далечен
Боли да виждам съществуването
Като присъствие
Без да знам какво е
А дори не съм смятан за планета вече
Сякаш небесното ми тяло
Не притежава съответстващо небесно съзнание
Едновременно присъствам и ме няма
Само заемам пространство
В нечие определение
За времепространство
Плутон - край...

Like fireflies in the dark
I see your tears with closed eyes
You’re the bird in my heart
Who never stops singing
Amongst the dagger ribs

Why do your weaknesses elude me;
my black magnets
keep you at a distance
because
you're facing their
repelling poles

your hair strands are currents,
thoughts;
mind of their own,
tentacles
gesturing hypnosis...
who are they;
what are we,
but extensions,
body parts,
extremities,
intentions,
of a hive mind
unidentified

but I’ll walk these narrow bridges,
shifting as they are,
these catwalks,
hanging ledges,
and breach I will
the curtains of your
ink-spilled masquerade
to taste the sweet and salty
that you’ve saved for me

and you will know
in the contours that hold me,
the right substance
beneath telltale textures
of requited sensation

and we won't fathom the bonds
but touch what they bind us into
smearing the need for questions