…terribly
splayed, terribly frightened, at seashells and oceans: gray noise, imbued
feelings, looking and learning, so masterfully captivated: those rageful eyes,
this rageful friend, while so disappointed: for life was roses, and life is
complex, and Love knew for destruction: this alpha-omega, those purple
tiles, at something incredibly aesthetic: to give peace, to achieve something
slanted, at irregular emotions: so forced to comply, at years those demons,
while eating sour vinegar: so into you, those irregular cravings, those
outstanding appetites: fleeing for returning, arguing for yelling, at laughs
and pain and so enlove: speeding through feelings, giggling inappropriately,
and pressing in concerned areas: such blatant creatures, at séance and ritual,
explained as something dynamic: our interior careers, our exterior careers, at
Love as if a lifelong career: so spaced, so green, so enlove: by an astray
thought, looking at Gorgeous, while subdued and resentful: those powerful, also
mawkish, and defeatist sentimentalities: at poetry’s face, at prose a lunatic,
while offending and recruiting: those bolder havens, this cemented niche, alive
for ruined and running through majesties: such esthetic faces, such iron grays,
while at a partial charade: unmasked and deadly, recaptured and fueled, while brains
leer into several hexagrams: our cut lives, our dynamic voices, at something if
soul-prints: re-knitted, re-cultured, to need something so deadly: those aching
cries, this aching gut, if but too explosive to depart….
…it
dies in you, those cascading elements, while lost and found in you: an examined
woman, but tales fell hostage, where souls recompete: those heinous gestures,
so uncured, as radical and unraveled secrets: so rebuked, slicing into oak, our
days magnified in woodblock: as casual lullabies, our reckless homelife, so
focused, so driven, but words have taken a hiatus: so found in you, so deceased
for you, where a simple gesture resuscitates you: our tight buns, our tighter
brains, to grip for life exposed to sorrow: evading wishes, for wishes ache, to
find with time this longing ache: a deeper parade, a seasick mermaid, while
illusion awoke and begged our presence: so flippant with delusion, so abnormal
with delusion, while passion arranges a nightmare in delusion: this pretty
disaster, this feudal Lord, while pleading to rescue a lonely poet: our broken
seasons, our laughing vows, where passion cried and pleaded and begged another
poet: this film in turquoise, this rage in agonies, where Love was a meet and
greet….
I
focus drearily—at blue burgundy moons, encaged at angst, survival, and red
suns: something apophatic, as too cataphatic, but speaking
negations: it can’t be said, but it must be said, so enchanted by nightcap
thumps: realized in you, so addicted to possessing you, as if a wife is but a
dream: so crazed by ammunition, so despondent to touch, while frequently
assailed by energies: a furious woman, a furious scream, as currents form into
fireballs: so elevated, such a powerful confession, where one is deep in Jesus:
our flinty hearts, our abused beliefs, while tormented, regathered, and
terribly exiled: those bolder cries, this bolder need, while one suffers from a
deficit: so bled for furies, so external a nightmare, while fevered for gutted
and begging forgiveness: this curse in waves, such weeping ash, as one
convergence on Wednesdays: that gentle soul, that wonderful soul, while
partaking of this delectable poison tree: so alive in us, so pushed by us, at
miracles to deplete us: abed concentration, flickers vibrating, while thinking
of visitors: computing intensities, to settle in you, while realizing something
inking in tears: at inrush and sparks, at flutters and terror, while at
something with full evasion: such intuition, this highbred fuse, again, at
seashells and oceans: bled this excitement, redeemed this daymare, so asleep,
such fairy-dusts, and false amore!
