Sudden flowers lapse


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Sweet one, I’m so foreign to your luxury
I have no interest in champagne
I’d much rather an outstretched soul
The speck of birds in a silence of intimacy
I’m quiet like that, in awe of the little things

I’m the initial letters of lost fingerprints
A cherished voice that can disappear
As soon as I came, free in the watery prismatic white-and-blue

While I’m filled with glowing tributes
I’d rather live a lonely maturity today
Than always hoping for solace in the long journey
A bullet of delight, in the middle of the night
Nature’s beauty spilt in Korean-Portuguese

I know the flower’s life, the ocean’s beauty
The blue, to blue-green to olive set of a woman
There’s no margin for error in the feminine mystique

The years of mating, the search for experience
And it hurt to feel your singing flamencos go
Your wet destiny of the rumor of the sky’s thousand lips
Reflected in your bottomless feelings and charms
But with time, salt and whispers, I’ll forget you

Savaged by the carnivorous impulse in my hope
Where thirst is never enough, and in the calculation of time
I’m not immune to the fragrance of the distant pollen
That beckons me indignantly across the fields

Sweet one, I have no energy for anything but
The sudden flower of reciprocity.

Under my showerhead


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Under my showerhead

Confession time, it has begun
I wouldn’t be who I am
If we had not met
Under the shipwreck
Beneath the trainwreck
Faking how little you moved me
I never told anyone, everything
Until I met you, at home
I walk naked still
Like innocence and fat
Not uncomfortable with themselves
I endure, but still think of you.

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the heart grew cold


37

the heart grew cold

I am the punctuation of blame
I carry glorious embarrassment
Lyrics of shame
———————————
So beautiful I dance in my own darkness!
I am thus arranged
Flawed, figured, curved in cursive
———————————————-
Space of blessedness
Syntax of struggle
Heart
Absolutely
I can
Write, having been stained
——————————————–
By a shine in your answer
Pan
To tell
The tongues of tales
Of men
I am the waiting, patience, sacrifice
———————————————-
Of women, mothers, having worked
Their entire lives without
Poetic justice or reward
Maybe only
The ever-after
Of what children might become
————————————————
We all grow and find
Pity
Trembling
—————————————————-
In the flesh of regret
Gone astray would I
Mostly love to sing to you
But that day can never come
For you are gone
And I am trapped in poetry.
———————————————————–

https://soundcloud.com/intemasolutionsinc/poetry-the-heart-grew-cold

Being Used


16

I have bartered myself
With violent abandon
Suffered myself against
Pitiful impulsivity
I have given myself

To the wounded and the aloof
Only to be abused like crushed dahlias
I have held myself like a shinning ghost
For marigold-garlanded projects
Attempted healing, at my own expense

I have martyred myself
In the arms of uncaring lovers
And I am dismembered & bruised
I have sought connection
Like a fragment without a purpose

Stockpiling fruits of attraction
For something outside myself
I have been illuminated by gargoyles
Tortured by single mothers
All to be somebody’s rebound, somebody’s scapegoat
Until the wind of their lust changed direction.

A Drop of Blood Like Shadows


10

My shadows have remained
Behind there, like a midnight guest
That doesn’t know when to leave
But the truth of the matter

Will surface, in sleep
The frosted sacrifices for art
Will suffice, the choice to be free
How the house is altogether preoccupied

Dust to dust, something called love
In the world, perhaps it’s not for me
Into a sterner living I must surrender
Why? Because life’s calculation found me wanting

There is no mercy in these stark designs
Of fate, no morning ray that sweet
Uncouth are the women who left me
Just as with my mouth I used to travel

Down their spines, their hips, their hands
Like a quiet shawl of tremulous abandon
I must warm myself with paler dreams
The dread of separation still in my gut

Heavy as a lost gleam of a lake of swans
There is nothing to forgive, nakedness is ruthless
My shadows have remained
I only sow the reaping done, a late comer

To reality, and ecstasy and maturity
I arrive at incredible vexation
A rage to break the barriers of sheltered patterns
Afloat in me like ice in foaming wine.

I Laid my Boyhood’s Head On The Pillow made for One


Don't Forget Me

With careful fragments I’ve built
A shredded identity, pillaged by hope
Ransacked by heart-break

I’ve customized my grief
To the rapture of my outlaw-state
In glowing morning I feared

Being left, and prophesized abandonment
In which my very atoms
In the cosmic mirror, were scattered

I couldn’t help martyrhood
Like the shell of my grandmother in me
How we give our power away

And how those authorities contrive
To judge our worth, in quick months
Of evolutionary design, bitter comments

That I remember to this day
About the kind of man I am
With careful foolishness I betrayed

The self, that wanted to join in marriages the most
A wild execution of the simplicity
That marked me from my childhood

Of having been raised in poverty
Boycotted from those simple joys
I am a frenzied bargain of dreaming cheeks
Without the spice of wonderful confidence.