Bring me close with your confessions
in response to a fellow poet:
bring me close with your confessions
cast not your eyes upon my face
but upon my heart.
do not whisper words of future
for my god hears no prayers
simply cherish me.
it matters not to me
past transgressions
it matters not to me
what others thought.
give me,
give me,
give me...
your heat
your passion
your smile,
knowledge of you.
I truly know
what love is
how it feels
to be cherished
in your eyes
as kindred spirit.
-darling
poets, do not read this
I read you, many of you
love’s lamentation lost…
you have no mates; those
of you who have mates,
leave them at home in
the dark lacking, existing.
They do not see you
the good, the bad, the
poet doomed to hope
once just once for love,
love’s lamentation lost
this life. I read you I
know you, they are
my words, my life. I
confront you to live
where I may never.
she just a little heart
She just a little girl
growed on inattention,
taken for granted, giving to
a fault she could not
would not ''tempt to close.
she have her duality of
spirit. she embrace it all
and yet mourns knowing
no one once they seen
her real want to keep her.
no one at'all. Self-efficacy
may just be her downfall.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
ba-ba blacksheep
The answer
lay not in
multitudes but
in your heart.
Lay not prone
to the social masses
in judgment
of health of mind or
spirit; but accept
your own duality
of nature as
I have my own.
Love, in peace
and anarchy,
love your way
as I love mine.
sadness
as published in the May-June issue of Black-Listed Magazine
When in the garden there's a girl
spills her heart on her sleeve saying
oh how clumsy, pardon me and
cries rubber duck smiles
nodding, slipping, torn away.
little black heart
dedicated to a girl I once knew...
She fucked up
finally this time;
the well had no
water to break
her rapid decent
when leaning
she fell too far.
"Oh aye," she
cry, "back to the
nunnery me gets!"
But did he know?
Did she impart?
She has much
love yet with
none did she part;
no man worthy of
her little black heart.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
god
You are not the words
in books repeated,
rehearsed, memorized
but the base for free
thought, critiqued and
the deconstucturalization
of social ideology
at its peak. Therefore
I retermed you
as universe and awe,
internalized you,
bound free to my
spirituality, stole you
from the bloody sheeple.
Yet why do I turn
to you with a head
full of love of him?
Friday, May 26, 2006
2.99 a pound
lips, tongue,
fingertips
stained
with juice sweet of
summer cherries
yet my mouth
is in want
of you..
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
beauty
In my heart
I always knew
I was beautiful;
in my heart
no one else did.
Still I toss aside words
in disbelief but
yours I hold close, it
being my soul of
which you speak.
m –
I want,
long and lean
to stretch back into
the curve of you
to spoon,
nap,
dream.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
replete
Light chenille pulled close
against fevered skin; too
hot flesh restlessly flush
in response to stimuli the
mind stirred from depths
and the distance of desires.
Little hands lost in thought
she moved; hey diddle-ooh,
a tear shed, a sigh torn, both
so soft she slept till morn.
