Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Winds Blow, It's Cold

Resonate, in laborious splendor
An incredulous reverberation
The sweat of Salacious aimlessness
Vapid breaths of stale air
Tender toes beneath sad souls
Walking silently with blistering feats
Frigid crowds stare lukewarm apathy
Fresh breaths sighing arid uncertainty
Winds blow, it’s cold

Crumpled ink on fragrant papers
Uncried tears flood clichés
Venomous emeralds see painful memories
Familiar and notably expressive
The decay of permanence
Fables and memories
Winds blow, it’s cold

Tuesday, May 16, 2006


Stereotypical archetypes manufacture,
absurdities over tiresome melodies.
Superfluous drumbeats,
Constantly off-key;
The dried skin on the bongo is stretched too thin.

The dishwasher’s opera;
Featured on a socialist stage;
Sponsored by the youngest marketeer in company history;
Old stage hands are outsourced,
They are too aged for the use of hipsters.

Censored and muted,

Clerical prudes sexualize trite normality.

they ignore that non-authoritative rebellion itself,
arouses childish spirits;

In their mission to shame,
righteousness effectively bands together outcasts,
In shame they find their brotherhood.
Perhaps ulterior methods,
Necessities for hypnotizing the seated masses,
Are in order.

Tongues wag through polluted air,
Splitting body and lust,
Atomizing restraint,
Propagating animalistic regression,
Touching irrationality,
Emboldening the slumbering spirit;
Though time and choice are appreciable concepts,
But rarely appreciated.

Unsatisfactorily bathed in contentment,
The boogyman looms undeterred;
The town crier sings the praise of this Minotaur.
Fictitious, but not quite,
reasoned by metaphysics conceived in quackery.
Fables and their nightmarish parables,
Underworlds strangely resurrect themselves.

The Seductive temptation to empathize,
To make poverty rule wealth,

which form...?
That is a matter of continuous debate;
The lack of initiative, however, is conspicuously apparent;
Classical rebellion for its own sake,
Predictable, like a sunrise or adolescent impudence.

Why ask questions we wish to ignore?

Thursday, May 11, 2006

In The World

An ethereal idea finds celestial peace;
Prophets weep tears of blood,
as perverts mangle their gospels.

His terrestrial gift is squandered;
Overzealousness is no virtue,

as radical freedom may be the road to slavery,
If temperance is unheeded.

Safid quietly meanders his body,
below the watchful eye of his mother Talish.
The family sits as Kura pours our tea.
Grandma prepares the chicken;

I miss fresh meals.

Mama stirs gravy for the biscuit in the window.
Para el hombre Viejo… su vida está replete.
The red clay beneath the feet of the babies,
Smiling innocently,
They see only the window to each other’s souls.

Avenues and boulevards;
Broken glass and shattered spirits;
Apathy is the morning’s reveille;
Corners are wastelands;
As the Wind blows in its City.

Lovers graze on pure grass with dirty minds;
Don’t be so prudish;
Filth may be a matter of perspective.
Fidelity is innocent until broken,
So is a kiss.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Nutritional Emasculation

A Lion’s mane must be groomed for the entire Pride.
From the great distance, it is never mistaken;
Substitutions hidden in lush vegetation,
Provide inadequate sustenance.

Inquisitive and skeptical, heirs to queendoms prod traditional wisdom.
Barbarism, by way of carnivorous obsession, is quite civilized;
Much more civilized than the halfway fast;
The omnivorous beast recognizes life in naked natural terms.

Is it ignorance or preference that masculinity is self-centered?
The question seems loaded with a haughty feminism.
Complementing various needs is a principle of opposites;
The natural way of things;
A hormonal hypnotization,
birthed from beyond our doing.

Curled and cuddled to retire each evening,
Strength, his necessity for the rising morrow.
a crime.
Woe be it unto she who is charged to nurture.
Beware, necessity cannot be ignored.

A Beautiful New Mood

Anyone who knows me will undoubtedly know that poetry is fascinating to me. Although, I'm not sure it's poetry that fascinates me, but expression; more accurately, the expression of humanity through words.

Man, I feel fantastic today. Life seems to be looking rather good. Not because I have figured out the greatest truths I need to function, but because I'm seeking them in a manner I enjoy.

Peace and Love,