Dance on the edge of the abyss*
Life robust bursting
In the speck of the cerulean
Ball
Some dance heads thrown
back laughing along the
channel in silk slippers
Over rough and sublime
Strange to others
Who crouch in awaited attack
Filled with frenzy of defense
Never aware it is wayward they
falling into the abyss
they so forever fear as
they settle for still feet
whilst all recedes unmusically
as the tide of their life inexorably pulls
*just returned from a few days in St. Thomas - apologies
sparse internet service - wrote these on descent back into
NY -
Falling Back*
Quite simple on falling to find
The wayward path and once
Footed to attack in frenzy
All suddenly strange clawing
With now rough eyes to
Find the channel to carry one
Back to the recollected sublime
To the robust vividness of
The shining ball bouncing
In casual elegance of the life
once well-lived
*just returned from a few days in St. Thomas - apologies
sparse internet service - wrote these on descent back into
NY -
#1.
it always began like this
the heat a steaming cover
the need to fling it off
it always began like this
simple unvarnished erotic
tingling blood gorged rosy
gold glistening
that stomach dropping rise
and dizzying swing over
like a reckless child over
soft sweet grasses
in an endless field
it always began like this
palpating, pulsating, persistent
promise of ever vividness
it always ended the same
done, pale, flat,
finally at last alone,
pulling off
sticky sheets, pouring
laundry powders
showering in melancholy
****************************************************************
#2.
One bed - Two Worlds
Why do you always have to cry
Why does he not know
Are you melancholy
No, the world is rosy
my path paved with gold
Your moods still swing
Really? You fool
I hadn't noticed my tears
Maybe one of the holistic powders
Perhaps a new lover
You look pale
I am nauseous
Maybe if I cover you
If you climb on me I will spray you with Mace
Remember when we lied in the beach grasses
That was not me you idiot! Probably a "fling" one
of those that didn't mean anything - you, with the
technique and romance of a stray tom cat!
I love these erotic moments don't you?
Who says this?
For Fabiola D'Antuono
Is it not
The clowns
The lights
The ups
The downs
It is all a carnival
Is it not
The spun sugar
On your lips
The concentration
The gleeful slips
It is all a carnival
Is it not
On this revolving
cerrulean dot
It is all a carnival
Is it not
And until closed
All we get to have got
Sitting in the dark
Together
In the flickering
Light of
Free assembly
Until a fragmented
Mind explodes
All
With honor of and respect
for the innocents murdered and injured and terrorized in Aurora Colorado-
let no one dignify
this fractured bearer of death, pain and fear.
Poet Play
Across the screen in flicks of wonder
swells the spray of poetic play
Born from the grittle of persistent leader
who with due gravity apologized for
a misspoken word this day
Here in land of Wordle where such
anomalies plant low lying trigger relishes
a daisy chain spreads a crack through her and himility
weaving cool refreshment through this humid way
As all through the forest the queen bird
Wren calls claim in sweet pealed misplaced humility
Having sparked the sweet welcomed echoed refrain
Tripped the trigger of low lying relishes
springing collective all in joy-full smiling embellishes
Thanks for the fun :)
or on a bitter-sweet note....
in the flowing dark
With gentle
flicks he slaps her sweet dewy bottom cheek
As passion swells
they pull the covers against the spray
Pulled down by
gravity and grittle, implanted seed they pray
Hope pulls the
trigger on their empassioned relishes
As his chain of
stoicism springs a sudden crack spilling
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I am sorry” he whispers
in the flowing dark
Himility gushes pouring hot and wet and true dripping in the
crook of her neck
A wet refrain as he lays claim to their empty waiting crib
Their world shimmering in tears of impotent regret
Oblivion
In the
ignorant spurn of time, each year spinning as balls of yarn toward eternity –
they suck the rind, taste the sting on tongue and as focused as housewives
hanging fresh laundry fail to notice the fall of subtracting days into the
shallow open drawer of life.
 |
| Not an eagle - nevertheless - a lovely soar |
Red white and yes blue
Stirring sparklered envision
Same place different eyes
