My Dear

Madam,
Your sexuality, and versatility,
Is party to our philosophy;
The contours meander through feminine reality,
Giving a sensuality,
To an overly verbose poetry,
That exudes a coloured past.
Littered with checkered paths and subtlety,
I see an imminent eventuality,
That takes a backseat to love.
Perpendicular to an out-moded mould;
Perception slithers through;
Fantasy that hold false truths,
Elevating bygone sorrows,
That envelope the soul,
And smother every pore of the body politik;
Lady, it’s tough.

Red Eyes, Yellow Tears

Marching virgins in unbroken ranks
Unmatched in purity
Onward move their garrisons
Flagstaff at full and proud
Piousness waves high
Boots of chastity trample grains of sand
Soft eyes with adamant innocence
Armed with halos and wings


Huddled devils
Cramped gothic corners
Shadowed by sinister good-intentions
Lonely and jealous is their misery
Accompanied by perverse proclivities
Inwardly twisted and outwardly projected
Armed with lies


Common-man, subtle and confused
Contemporary prehistoric modernity
Disquieted human raging
Talking with dueling faces
He naps through his days’ steps
The everyman, I am
The prophet is the common-man
No common-man, is the everyman
Unwise wisdom claims genius
Armed with narcissism, he speaks


The fiery and her angel
In judgment sits her lover
Her rooster crows at night
Blasted inward, digested, projected
At attention, erected anger
Timid giant, ashamed and now so small


Yellow-tailed angel
Golden savior
Her love weeps an ocean of blue
Its ears have been synched
Even perfect gifts from heaven
Make mistakes
Forgiveness is divine
Apologies are sometimes sincere