Like Wandering Bards Falling in Love on the Road

I sleep
With the bosom of the moon
Inside my belly
An ache so ethereal
I take back language

From my spirit’s script
I dream
Outside of indifference
With a contempt of sensitivity
So prophetic when I awake

I burst for reveries
Paths diverging until
I want your truths
Like the beauty you hide
In your remnant mind

I wait
To taste your victories
With you like choruses & refrains
And canvasses where our
Hearts melted together

On a page like words
Next to each other, following
Thrust into life
Without punctuation
It was

How you and I met
Sweet nudes of lyrics
The expired caress
Of love-beams
Shown into the

Darkness of our paragraphs
Much like the bed-side goblins
We became
So walled-in
The pink snow of our

Wild Spring of fauns
Piscean gardens
And purity in vocal-speech
I decoded you in strips
Of lingering poetry

And I spoke myself through
Your tongue into
The sorcerer’s longing
Grafted with lightness
Into the bridge of your
Armenian nose

Your secret parodies
I sung through your
Transparencies.

Chronicle of Comet-Like-Jewel Eyes

I am alive with lucid memories
That are mere moments
Of my future, ribboned sequences
Of the pure enactment of miracles
The little crazy buzz
Of kindness, the gift of giving

The altruism principle, in full bloom
Flowering of big-sky belonging
I am alive with the joy-in-chaos
Of hours stretched to the bottom
Of every corner, every error, deployed
Like sentinels of the state-of-wonder

Fresh like cinnamon roses-buds
Moving colors of wispy vanilla
Chocolate resplendent autumns
I am alive to the best of the world
Where harvests come from strange occurrences
And accidents lead me to love

The old jewel box by the side of the road
Where you smiled at me
And changed me forever.

Like Immigrants of Imagination

It is a freewheeling dance
Of where I begin, and where you end
Frail and florid
Free and restless
Is the plain between
You and I, these liquid eyes

We share like our blue souls
Reflected from another world
We see forgotten countries
Mirrored between the inches
That separate our hand-held
Joy-madness, at the edge of dawns

Waiting as if for endless time
To tell us we reached infinity
This is our Milky Way
The space that envelopes
Our child, time will slowly crush us
Make us gasp down spirals of joy

Seasons of the premonition
Of shared lucid absurdities
It is a freewheeling dance
This poetry truth between us
I am a child in those countries
Where you accompany me in harmony

There like in streams of pleasant literature
We go safe inhabited by tender
Gentle wanderings, intense pleasures
Ready to explode in subtle easy nearness
Stripped of youthful illusions
We work on the same isle of destiny
Married to beauty, immigrants in imagination.

To Confide with Happiness

Like the marvellous thing we were
A shawl of every colour of the spectrum
There was a perfect order

In our rising constellations
Call it love, call it what you will
A boardwalk to a happier universe

Your intrigue, makes me understand
Your wonder, lights me on fire
We are masters of eloquence

Circling water, glistening on pages
Heads in hands, laughing into the delta
Of everything, dressed for journeys

Like the marvellous thing we are
A casual climax of humility and inventory
Of the coat of paint turned by new beginnings

It is with a feeling of delight that I realize
We are incredibly wet in our shared bubbles
Happy in the first full moon of month X

There is only one way to complete the puzzle
To spend more time with you
Serenade each other with mutual shared silences.

Uninterrupted Poetry

These poems are lost to me
Like the dead, there is no returning again
To what was, old loves

My mind feels them shouting there
Those who have died to us
Once here, now gone

It is the same with the music of the night
Grief dies to my renewal
I regenerate my lips, my ears, my thirst

Like a mausoleum of longing
I am, without ever being satisfied
I wake up to radiant mornings

Each and every day, jasmine at my feet
And I write poems, like lost waterfalls
Missed sunrises, broken comets

Stars on the tips of forgotten inheritance
These poems are lost to me
Like the emptying fulfillment of breath

Like a kind of solution to what I am
I create a rhetoric of distinguished ambiguity
Legislating my soul to be free

An embroidery without worldly cares
These poems are lost to me
I am not a thief of possession

But rather, a common beggar
With the guarantee of unearthly words.

Without a Sequel

Today I am in the longitude of faith
Last night, I did not fight for sleep
I became a legend of my own struggle
And in most lovely lapsing

I forgot my self importance
My little raw soul on a row like this
Turned its slow features on like warm milk

Towards the greatest goal
Today I am in the latitude of invisible
Reaches, last night I let yesterday go

The golden echo of those sobs were drowned
I have begun to die, each and every day
I become a legend to my own gains

The lovely body of my unique mind
A blank interim before divinity
As a fury of flowers and light

My sacred earth in my day was my curse
Today I am compass at my own reaches
Inextinguishable like a most treasured dream.