Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Poem #1

Open Arms to the Moon

Fall slow, the crystal tear drops,
End wishes, that fell dear crops.
When had I, noticed white limbs, on high,
As God gave, ample notes, poured nigh?

When I’d given, stars, for a silver heart,
Black faces, etched, harbored, of newer part.
The slender back, which I spy, on shores,
Plods, eternal bliss, by lies, for lore.

She’d known beauty, by its own name,
Ended peace, near, the long lane.
As clouds lingered, near blackened hair,
Will God sense, her fear, in cruel lair?

Here as woman’s savior, withheld,
With all, to give, scent of tulips,
Dire, as August’s flavor, to meld,
When the cloth lets two breasts slip.      

Poem #2

The Senseless Belonging

To mourn love, by fallen, endeavors,
One somber love, I had held, forever.
Near to, the icy river,
That flows the beauty’s giver. 

She sought, for an empire,
I sought, for her desire.
My weakness fled, the numbered rocks,
By finding her tangled, in locks.

Such tresses, which were many,
Fought through sadness, plenty.
She gave wickedness, to a hand,
Near this shore, in this frozen land.

These stones, I had observed,
Swelled the failures, to blur.
To drink the nectar, free from wine,
Her blood-red horror, sweet as mine.

The tempest began, to languish,
In currents, of withered wishes.
Near to me, to question longing,
Dreams for she, senseless belonging.

I obeyed, your courted blessings,
They, which played, for ornate yearnings.

Poem #3

The Strangled Strings

Dreary toil, within my path,
Empty saviors, hungered by wrath.

When madness unfurls, its quiet rage,
To bask in nectar, of poem’s page.

When love lapses, its gentle sorrow,
To fall the self, for first tomorrow.

I long to comfort, the trembling wings,
By the endless notes, of strangled strings.

Poem #4

Here Stands the Ivory Statue

Beneath golden sun, and brownish bark,
Feelings had gone, to the distant dark. 
Fires burned, that surrounded me,
Nameless souls, bought in ecstasy.

I observed a woman, to a statue’s white,
She offered kindness, in solid black night.

In whispering, a peaceful melody,
That which disused, wild red agony.
I sought, for a token, in gesture,
For the moon, to take, my loss,
Here, the statue falls, to less demure,
In sacred, gold place, to cross.

As my toes, call their steps, to its withering,
What plight, to catch, for parts, in this gathering.

Poem #5

The Naked Viewing

What would I name, my empire,
Where this David, flies to fire?
To be handsome, or to be cruel,
You’d tease also, of love’s kind rule. 

In ample markings, I observe,
The simple art, of highest curves.
What wickedness! In breasts.
Wine for lips, in bitter taste.
Allow, of the listless rest.
In one finger’s, lawful haste.

When noticing, the toes below,
To walk, in untold steps, so slow.
I am allowed, to fill my glass,
By all which flows, into thy mass.

Violet skin, when blushing bright,
Take all to sin, in desperate flight.
Send the priests, fleeing,
All full in hands, to the night.

When thy belly, of palest moon,
Is sweet in seed, in dismal bloom,
There shall come, to lovely sweat,
A shell of love’s, beauty kept.

In contours, I count, each falling tress,
To meager face, of sheer failing youth,
Uncover, each bit, of nestling skin,
In hearing shame, from weary red mouth.

To grip, the waist, of thy body,
Shall be there, for my possession,
To the deep place, of my pity,
Had we sold, our cries to ashes.   

Poem #6

Longing, and the Bottle

Here, where cities, meet the icy frost,
When windows, adopt the pale faces,
There comes, the hand of fate,
To steal, the joy from the day.

When beauty, becomes rust,
Ashes and bones, become dust,
There will be, the decay,
That marks, a brand-new day.

Those, who savor, the many hues,
Those, who whisper, the deepest hymns.
May cry, their tears aplenty,
When God, turns away to safety.

Sinister worlds, are alike,
Alike, in their deepest knowings,
Beauty became, the destitute,
Or a fantasy, for the refined.

There are stands, to sell books,
And stands, to sell fruit.
There are women, who breathe sweetness,
And women, who breathe death.

Men, who are weary,
Will bend a knee, to comfort.
When beauty stalks, the furthest shores,
Coming beneath, the fullest moon.

As the deserts, collide with, the stars,
And the oceans, collide with, the land,
There will remain, a haven of jealousy,
For sympathy, to maintain a peace.

Near to death, and near to demise,
Beauty reigns, for the shattered disguise.