Those Secrets


2

I often asked myself why I did not love the Earth

Who had made me so tender and imperfect

The secret to living a life well lived?

Happiness was not the goal; it is not a thing

 

But a process, an awakening to loving everything

And you can work a lifetime at the heart

And dream an eternity with the soul

Until your history is swallowed up in compassion

 

And your drama disappears into a

Moist blanket of empathy where you transcend

The ignorance of your own missed opportunities

A savage garden of needs that would convince you

 

In the solitude of an unmarked place

That you are a stark nomad so unlike the unsettled world

Yet in the light of the sun, your body still aches

To be swallowed up into a bigger purpose

 

Your cells still crave the call of other stars

There’s no armor of God or golden goodness

We are the same, mistrustful and at times miserable

By-passers of creation, haunted and hunting for

 

Always something more, further than what we were

All experience is for the drinking of inspiration

A fountain of faces and seconds, of floods and races

And we’re already there; we’ve already arrived

 

We are just always catching up with our own divinity

The world is filled with too much to say

Yet in the end it matters now what we’ve told ourselves

It only matters what we do in our chosen projects of love.

Blooming into Native Serendipity


(Lost in Gaia)

gaia

I love you for not knowing me
But echoing me, like some stranger’s lost invincibility
I love you for your kindness
In the same sorrows we have all fled

Like youth’s retreating eyebrows
Like songs we used to sing
I love you for your no tomorrows
For your doomsday moods and emotive vitality

For your hairy shadows, and Costa Rican reunions
I followed how the healers move the mystics
Just today, as if it was a story I was familiar with
I love you for being in love and falling

In love with something bigger than yourself
I love you for your storytelling and your
Witnessing, the quiet birth of the apocalypse
Of every blue moment entombed in rapture and in awe

I was captivated by your Venusian fertility of art
And poetry and the musing of eternal questions
I love you for loving deeper in sweeter tones
Than I found use in doing, after doppelganger loneliness

And Aspergian humility, I played in shadows
I love you for not being there, when the divine stood on
Inside of me like a flame always glowing
I love you for your absence, for being

Especially preoccupied with your own drama
For your personal story of mirroring and copying
The feelings we all had all long, they still seemed
More blessed in your company

Somehow more vivid on your face
In your essays up the Western coast
Entwined and enshrined, I love you for the book of poems
You told the ocean you’d share with the world
I’m still waiting for my copy, by the way.

The vivid things that never change


 

Gold

Lights out. Shades up.
The bloom in your heart is running
A weather to look at,
The sun peaking through your dreams
A cosmos to deliver your thirst
Boulevards closed. Souvenirs sunset.
It’s time for starts to earn your trust
Perceived by feeling, instead of sense
Allowed by intuition to run wild
The instinct that loves the dark
Lights out. Shades up.
A revolution of the years gone
The time left, its so slim now
The trees cannot wait till morning
The inherent opposites are coming to fruition
The bloom in your heart is dripping
A sudden world without time
Where you existed, immersed
From any future, simply ever-living and being.

Deprived of Flight


Screen Shot 09-12-15 at 10.53 AM

I’m tired of days drunk
With the sameness that doesn’t realize
Innovation, experience compressed
Time encapsulated with love

O but are we exiles then
Migrants who must walk mountains
Slumbering in the mire of silences
My blue memories are fading

Like the pure golden statues of youth
That were maybe nothing more than
Projection, silver mooncraft gone
Discovery and identity shaping embarrassments

My mouth dry and caked with dust
My love departed in their early faces
I’m tired of being plundered by experience
As if the rogues of time knew something
I do not know, do not possesses, cannot reach.

Garden of Venus in Taurus 


Screen Shot 07-05-15 at 12.28 AM
Screen Shot 07-05-15 at 12.42 PM

I crossed paths with a girl
And her eyes were like Asian fireflies
I’m not quite sure in the dark

How her eyes turned liquid blue
Somewhere between autumns suns
And October leaves and sapphire blue

I was baptized by her eerie youth
All to say her circus curiosity
And her eternal sunlit virginity
Felt like virtue’s half-lit curtain
Of failing signs of language, candles on the altars

Dresses that felt like novels in the light of the moon
And little hands like the wonder tools
Of unkissed cheeks on aloof balconies

Watching the world, and never experiencing
Never being baptized by summer blooms
Or feeling the night’s crime of seductions

I crossed paths with a girl
Who was young and in no hurry
Her insomniac words hung like mist
On the landscapes of the timid voices
That are like dawns and forgotten whispers

Or stray cats we liked to pet while sleep-walking
From one place to another, it’s cruel
How on the rooftops of our lives
We’re mute sometimes, we’re like butterflies
Who don’t know where the flowers are at.

Crying as if from a Dream


Screen Shot 06-24-15 at 12.37 AM
Screen Shot 06-24-15 at 12.35 AM

We felt the weight of oranges in our limbs
In our loins, we knew we wouldn’t
Be young forever, that even love

Was temporary for a purpose
Driving home, it was all so clear
Your white face, my womb of light

Our electric skin against the
20s something fever of our memoriam
Our permission to be free and reckless
Our dream was the Earth crumbling
And our child could be our redemption

Somehow nature impregnated us with
This little idea, called the future
Each generation fell for it like

The luminous blueprint of tomorrow
We worked so hard just so tomorrow would make it
On time, and in the right way

According to our cultural expectation of it
And if tears could burn in the
Back of our throat, they would now
In the memory of love written on skin
And the promises of forever that seemed
So real and tangible back then….

A f t e r A l g e r n o n 


Screen Shot 05-01-15 at 11.55 PM 001Screen Shot 05-01-15 at 11.55 PM


A f t e r A l g e r n o n

O Spring what lutes heard in yellow
From the golden sighs of youth
Lost and drunk on lips and eyelids
That now have no remembrance

And how our sleeves beg for beauty
If not the Ballad of life once again
Or that flesh that dwindles each decade
Or skin that grows new lines and

Muscles that find in time little praise
Where went lovers and passion
Whose laughter and magic
Felt so intense as if a grievous thing?

O Spring what have you done
Under your breath to us
O smitten lips, O sinful having breasts
O erotic flattery and temptation’s bell

How the passage of her days
Have made us less brave, less apt
To carry our taunt flesh in raiments
Woven with the mirth of curiosity

So we must go on, in gracious last days
Remembering dreams of fair maidens
And flowers as if we lived yesterday
The gold raiment of starkest youth

And bravest obstacles to win a secret
In how we came and parted our loves
How we kissed, embraced and bowed
All our noblest parts bruised and soul-caught

Now we must take our marigold leave
From all these shelters and insincere hands
To let the love of righteous adventures
Find peace in the spoilt gold of our minds.

Filtering Dreams


Screen Shot 04-11-15 at 07.46 PM

Kinza’s Flame

I’ve dreamt dreams of you
That have lingered a while
They have gone through me
Again and again, brought

Sunlight, smiles, attraction
To be alive again
That is the moment
When I knew

That you had altered
My fundamental state of being
I’ve dreamed dreams that you
Came to me with a smile

And it was at that moment
That I found myself begging
To learn how to live again

As if I had forgotten
How to be young
As if, the emptiness I felt
Was in the illusion of losing

Those things I had
Emotionally invested in
That were no longer
Physically near me

Maybe, I was mistaken
And everything I used to love
Are the same dreams visiting me now.

Wish


71

Wish

I kiss thine eyes with my soul
With mystic empathy mine
But you do not look or see me!

Ah God! If I might once again
Feel the dreamy youth of feeling purely!
With identity projected, in wondrous joy!

The old-time longing for unity
It’s thrill is still in my cells
Like a circling memory of oneness

My whole heart leaps nearly to you
There, but you do not look or see me!
There is no method to convey sometimes
The inner possibility of energy
The old-time agony within my soul

The hush of alienation, loneliness
An eclectic talent for feeling separate
If only to magnify the unity-of-all-things
I kiss thine eyes with my private feast
A light blur stirs for thee from me

But you do not look, you do not see me!
And I was in my lonely light, with frenzy begging
For faces of the spring, for golden
Words spoken to me, as if I had
Thought poetry at the ocean side

For a lifetime of romantic depths
Without the shudder of youth
That passed so quickly, I am getting old.

And the rest is the dreams of men


It isn’t enough to write about the sun
we felt the absolute
body of things
in our bones and breath24

ready to squander a lifetime
if necessary, to sacrifice
for the causes we believed in

exiting, an exact and entire coincidence
the ironies of society
a myopia of the perfect hope
that cannot understand the world
since it does not know itself

it isn’t enough to write about history
what I dream is for a sun
more sun than the sun

but how can this be?
the earth has held us for millennia
there are no meadows
more meadows than the meadows here

there are no oceans like
the oceans of ancient days
if a soul resides in this body
I want it to animate a better world.

Slow Dance


53

Slow Dance

When with lust and life
I am smitten
And to your bosom
And breasts I cleave
Don’t call me weak

That youth and femininity
Have power over me
I worship the sacred in you
As you worship the sacred in me
With joy and naked song

We make love and stare
At god, rainbow, universe
For each body rare

And each holy kiss
I find divine repair
The flesh at least allows
A bit of blood and glory
In pleasure few, or foul, or taken

With but these lips
And a sainthood’s heart
Evolution decreed naked girls

With silver combs and red lips
Have thus a hold on me
In every decade, for the glory
Of life’s bounty, is in you.

Featured photography: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Pure-Form-504629194

Congress of Red Mouths


37

We were all lovers
At one point or another
We all met behind ruins
And stared at flowers in eyes

And briefly became somebody else
In the unity of our flames
Our desires burned like youth
In our chests and leaped

Like breasts unearthed and dreams
Plundered and fantasies enacted
We were lovers to someone
And we gave our hearts, and cheated

And in the hot ovens of our exploration
We came upon beauty and nudity
And clasped the sweet merchants
Of sex, at some point or another

A history full of poems and lyrics
Of ancient knowing, instinct even
We were handsome bastards
And luxurious ladies, we were

The landscape of bosoms and blossoms
And it was fun, and easy to find
A richness in the company of gender
Flirtation with ecstasy boasting bitten

And unpairing passion like a fruit
The most natural fruit to be eaten
And tasted and treasured forever
The foreign district of erotic tongues.

Youth till now


72

Art by Agnes Cecile..

In the scattered vibrations
Of youth
I lifted each hour whiter
I slept with each month greener!
And I felt invulnerable

I feared death then as if
Cessation of being was a bad thing
Desire pushed me
Into new encounters
With the inevitable side of life

The empowering and affirming
The unfurling in the wind
And expansions into scenes
With silken banners, drunk liaisons
And knots, as the side of my bed

Inside my head, freshness of wounds
Errors in waiting, studious looks
Chaos in the overwhelming discovery
And the self-discovery of innovation
As if self had to be created over

Sky rising to the lips of fate
In a wayward temptation
Yes well that was then
And this is now, indifferent bliss
Sprouts in me now, like incense

And peace, preferring not the face
Of whirlwinds or zipper-trance.

Anthem & Alchemy


26

So this was Earth
Handfuls of light
Europe on reverb
Beaches covered with
Ancient jars like

Star-shells fragrant
With some golden empire
From which they came
I saw young bodies
Throbbing breasts

Heart-beats of infinity
Shells rose-pink
A blur of traffic
So this was Evolution
In the minds of

Organics where
Drifted thoughts
Of arms spread open
For the coupling of desire
These youth who

Would one day pair off
And the sky’s veins
Would not recall
Who was with who
Or how children came

Each has no handles
The waves touch
The pebbles each time
They curl on to the shore
Like time, formed by clay

They gather tools to
Change themselves
Civilized barbarians
Becoming barbaric once again
So this was Earth

I’d heard the stories
Souls that could not
Be unmade, they learned
And grew somehow
In a software of

Reincarnation, I knew
Their minds emptied
Death was beautiful
A simple reset and
And the slaughter of

Selfishness, what a sight
Wheat doesn’t take long
To ripen, sex doesn’t
Take long to become
But a whisper in a life

Desires melt away
Attachments drift
Hopes once so vital
Seemed secondary
Each dream separately

Lulled, like the birds
Who cry at morning
Going quiet, at the coming
Of the Sun, it was
Just natural, and perfect.

Be Realistic, plan for Miracles


37

if you are feeling stuck
abandon what you do, be somebody else
embrace uncertainty for experience

pure experience without judgement
where Life again becomes
possible, freedom of will
self-determined, bitter-sweet

youthful, exuberant, spring-autumn
with the taste of rosebuds
dual, frankly crazy, appreciated

spin wildly into your next months
with both heart and exercise of choice
bravely, without regret or sentimental lingering
if you are feeling frightened

by who you have become, change
dare to enjoy the present like never before
retrace your steps, rediscover who you are

it’s never too late, you’ll find your
way again, where hopes lead you
challenge yourself to find bliss
don’t be afraid to experience, say “yes”

for experience is the heart of necessity
if you don’t rush after it
life will force you to meet her

life is not about possession
life is about tasting, doing, being, watching
moving, travelling, loving, thinking
dangerously even, for life passes you by

a place where happiness and sadness collide
forcefully, creatively, passionately
be the hero of your own story

find friendships that intrigue you
fall in love with hobbies that move you
read philosophers that challenge you
make music that haunts you

have sex like your mean it
listen to your being without judgement
that small voice who enjoys giving

live without condition, for destiny
always intended to work with you
not through you, fate completes you
your journey needs your enthusiasm.

36

CELEBRATION OF THE ETERNAL ROSE, 永恆玫瑰的慶典


93

If I confess your body is
The only civilization besides Roses
I long to experience, do not say

Do not say that I only adore blooming things
A Rose at any stage of life is gracious
Moist petalled or dropping wearily

The rain on her lips is like butter-music
If men, were created before women
It is only to appreciate their fullest creation

Like the beauty of the rose whose temptation
Is somehow feminine, a scent spinning
Into oblivion, as flesh seeking to born out living flesh

In blessed and blushing confessions
Or the redness of the weight of the body
The Rose that has told in one simplicity

That never life relinquishes a bloom
But to bestow an ancient confidence:
A man gives a woman a Rose

This symbolic gesture mimics evolution
Women are not roses, they are not
Oceans or stars, I would like to tell her

But I think she already knows.
As a misty dream, our path emerges
Like days of wine and roses, celebration.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/where-the-wild-roses-grow-131859161

新品種 (new breed)


40

i

I heard your voice today again
In a Minor Key, speaking about how
Autumn disinforms the past
What’s realistic fantasy?
Rust. August. Musts…
Summer still invades my body
With an angry sun filled

ii

To the brim with mangoes and cherries
Caught in a feeling of immense
Tenderness, at the dawn of the longest day
Vocalizing forbidden syllables
To the Ever young, the youth whose

iii

Sensual materialism is a caress
Of how my body cells revolve in unison
With the whole universe
I heard your voice today again
In a foreign language, who knew it
Would become my bilingualism

iv

When time and space cease to exist
For me, our bodies in time will sleep
Side by side, for a year that felt like a century
-This flash is all we know, it happened
Taking on surreal forms of mysticism.

31

潛意識


31
36
i

No map traces the street where
Where two sleeps are, lovers cast adrift
In each other, from their purpose
An evil omen, the French window ajar
Shades down, jilted by sleeping Fate
That has the odor of sexual revolution
Curtained with yellow lace were
Those youthful experiments, like the

ii

No flowers can reveal the lies
We told ourselves, in each other’s arms?
The mouth to mouth of our lost hours
Love drenched in another time, leaving
No silver track to honest feeling
Only a calamity of numbness, resignation
Ousted from the warm bed of hot adventure

iii

No sun holds us steadfast in the narrow dream
Where those two sleepers are
You and I, me and you, those are
Fantasies now held under water
Like a love affair that ruined our life
Eyelids drenched in gold
Powerless, but to stare into the sun.

THE LAMP OF EXHILARATION


10

i

Spring, your grass is longer until June
I can sense Summer further than the Birds
An unobtrusive transformation
Of flowers, gradual perfection of Grace
Regardless of our minor tragedies

ii

Nature, this pensive custom of
Cycles outlasts all change
She carries enlarging loneliness
Making the youth hunt friendship
The heat beneath burning Noons
Makes us sweat for tomorrow

iii

Nature drips sunsets and drapes
The future, across a vistas of Yearning
Passion as the seed the Wizard Sun
Creatures following the mirth
Of the hand of evolution, the eyes

iv

Of the erotic energy of time
Dare I say I felt the lip of the flamingo
The wind does not require grass
But prefers it as I do, the colors
All end in green, and the wisdom
Of the light that never asks questions.

STAINING OUR LIPS WITH PEACH AND NECTARINE


63

i

Lovers are like children lost in the garden
Caught in trust and fear and something else
Discovery two by two, mounting into blue
Negotiating a secret fringe of desire
And how the fountains bubble bright and clear

ii

And the world goes on, careless of her
Labelled afflictions, it’s life just so you know
Bright black and blue, exploration made difficult
By the mind’s apprehension, and caution
That strangles us to the bones, this monotony
Of Evolution’s tick-tack-toes against the

iii

Rising wind of our youth’s carelessness
Lovers you are so pragmatic, hardly even platonic
Chasing every last and wayward power
Because you don’t know what you want

iv

Getting older against an independence raw
Guilty of regrets you do not talk about
Love, it’s getting old that you were once wronged
Love is a holiday from the past, and if you can’t
Do it, this sunlit juice well, it won’t last.

Photography Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Heal-them-453231010

NO WASTED TIME


41

Dear youth, you cannot know
Your true potential, until you are Old!
Your Future lies ahead of you

So grip self-compassion like
A crusade of your secret revelations
The world can only Change by

Your touch, your ideas, your victories
For we do not all have your energy
Dear youth, you do know right that

We have tried to build a World of peace
That you might prosper, grow up good
But our life is brief, faster than you think

Our time is short to do Good acts
Thoughts do not keep abreast
Experience is the wisest teacher…

Dear youth, with curiosity free from fear
Be ever social, create the paradox anew
Do not be perplexed by the old instincts

Sex, beauty, knowledge, power
Their time will pass too, but plan
To share a loving cup, and never hold a grudge

To find one’s place in life, can take
An entire lifetime, don’t you know?
You were made to be pioneers

To give Evolution her lasting gifts
Of revolution, and a proper place
To those who have no fair champions

Waste all the time you require to become
Who you were meant to be, Dear Youth:
Learn first-hand your chosen goal’s special charm.

SPRING FABLE


13

Berries are sure to redden on
The body of whiteness, entry of Spring
White shadows will collide
Drunk with the juice of Moonlight

Life will explode from the bony Mother
Earth will weep rivers, fountains, lakes
Birds will build fortresses
Time will drag a harmony of balanced ruling

Promising a silence as deep as the source
Buds will drift up the Great goddess stems
Flowers will steer countries to sunsets
Blue water-mists will flash by naked

Startling fishermen, colors will
Taint the margins of everything old
Owls give way to Peacocks
Midnights to quivering fields

Berries are sure to redden
On the fertile mounts of Spring.

Abandonment of Sensation


64

He lost him completely, himself and desperate
He tried to find his soul in the
Thoughts of each new friend, each new lover
He tries in the union with
Each new experience, every passing year
To touch upon the essential
Act of feeling alive, that so elusive
The Spark that sometimes flees with time
The forms of pleasure no longer
Convinced his body that he was young
No longer gave his being the ultimate high
It is as though he never existed, and that
Is the irrevocable fantasy and hallucination
Of existence, he can no longer feel the passion
Of what once was, and never can be again.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/A-Rose-407797819

Ode to Virgins


34

A girl to a man is an ascended tree
Who bears the most magnificent fruit
The tree has grow in my breast
Downward like arms of moss

Trees you are, nourished glee
Moss you are, ravished romance
A chill of violets in the wind
A girl to a man is the folly of the world

The gift, the goal, the great deception
A virginal biological imperative
Like heroin, a dopamine-testosterone high
For the spoils of estrogen and smiles

Slight her arms that stealthy subtle clearness
Her vague ethereal beauty, so remarkable
A girl to a man is the twin peaks of the world
The reminder of April’s shooting branches
The white bark of skin, the young lady’s hours.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Kika-403043718

I’ve Swallowed Distant Pollen in your Kiss


46

No one can reckon what I owe
To the wonders of this world
I am grateful for, your wilderness
Like a young girl becoming a woman

You brush your hand over me
And I rise, from the Sea to your Joy
Like the fields being watered
I surge to life in your hands

That know the creativity of Life
Like a blind bird with still so much flight
I roam for continents of your touch
Where wandering lightning might strike

In these loins, yielding in penetration
With the moisture of all that is yielding
Feeling with body, my ceilings of pleasure
Emotional in my lonely house, like a lover

Waiting for you, till you will see me again
No one can reckon what I owe
The brief devouring hope of flesh & soul
My body to rub your kiss, with certain pangs

Stealing the key to my innocence, my blood
On fire for you to continue your pleasing
My wineglass drunk every drop of your moisture
Sipping the roots of your womanhood

As if in your flesh I might find time, salt, whispers
The rumor of wood, green, growing things
No one can reckon what I owe
Life begets life, women bring joy

I am grateful, for the shadows in your moods
Like a young girl becoming a woman
I dare not trespass too close to your curiosity.

Dreams of your Photographs


44

Sweetheart, you are my river in paradise
I understand that destiny, more than anything
Is how we come together, like when you
Take your nature walks – I am transported
To the inner places you have been

Our nomadic beauty could wander the world
Because love cannot always fly
Without resting, I am such a place
Where you can be freely, without expectation
Or obligation, A calm root where you can belong

There is no formula of clay in our lives
But when our minds and bodies come together
You are the turquoise piece that fits in me
Like a gem to my stone, like a bud to my stem
And I yearn for your like mineral wishes

Emerald-longing, as sweet as the earth
We open celestial capsules in our minutes shared
Hours that caress us from afar, the spiritual wonder
Of so much discovery, you bring me alive
As if I’ve been invisible to every gift, before you.

You With Your White Energy (River in Heaven)


43

Sweetheart, was it you who told me
To Love all, trust a few
And do harm to none?
I’ve loved enough in twenty years
To die a lifetime of heartache

But your Sapphire summer-soul
Are the drifting forests of centuries
Of intimacy trapped in time
I find a dark honey in your words
When I touch your hips I feel

The opaque petals of my hurt subside
Like the sun multiplied in water
Sweetheart, I have modest dreams
Of a simple life, the epiphanies
Are getting shorter, more rare

Some of us will achieve greatness
Only in the quality of our love
To catch kisses in clusters of fruit
We know intimately how grapes might taste
But the tongue arrives at raspberries

When we touch someone whose soul
Is smooth from the waves, from
The caress of doves, intricate contemplation
Solitude, suffering, dearest I want us
To transcend mortality, for just a brief moment

And quench the scrambled blankets, feathers,
Sweet naïveté between us like soothing horizons
Why, O’ why do I trust you so implicitly?

The Hollows Made By Lovers in us through Harsh Words


27

Once you have learned these words
You will forget silence
Like learning heartbreak
You will renounce love

These are true stories of living
The word hangs like an anchor
It is used against us like a weapon
The very same voice you once served

Once you have learned these words
You will know the language of humanity
They will shape you to be insensitive
And burn a smudge of orange across your face

Every time you forget the rift of inner beauty
You will die a little more to the child you once were
Before language, before symbols corrupted you
You hold yourself between these two words

One silent, and the other an action
So be careful what you say, knowing
How words once damaged you, be gentle
To those closer to the silence
To those more fresh from the source.

That I Hold You Forever


23

I have too much ingratitude for children
Too much dysfunction for marriage
It’s time to pour into my flute all
That I have left, the sum of shepherd-thoughts

Simplicity, of this life of neglect
According to its own rhythms
With the sustained voice of its own
Infinite exchange, dancing sums

I only have blank joys, to decorate my heart
Outlined ideals I would share with my friends
Imaginary beauty, lovely years left lonely
My suns will quickly run their course

Have their due, their little sport
Of wishing, and complete tender rounds
Of giving and secret fidelities
I own to much narcissism for family

With too much of a conscience for defeat
Toward all life embracing it from afar
The turbulent troubles between my inner shores
Are my last excuses saved for the future

A future where everyone is going to die
It suffices me to deepen, to endure
With vaster concerns than I am now capable
I am ashamed, since your departure

At the premature immaturity of my supplications
The light-fingered censure of my woe
To you, in whom I don’t confide, know this –
I have tasted the thirst that magnifies us.

Eros in Retreat


7

I am waiting for my white butterflies
Summer’s babble of small noises
Where I can feel insignificant again
Behind crickets and proofs of God

I’m hoping that timely intervals
Will save me from this grief
Amidst the healing weeks
Of mourning and mornings

I have the patience of heart-breaks
That fly with delicate wings
Of youth’s love-sheath so tender
Bemused by nature’s glory

I am waiting for my sampled flowers
That have no flaw, but their unchanging beauty
That diamonds are only accomplished
After eternities, epochs long enough

That they forget what they once were
I am waiting for my single aims
To be accomplished in-between
The death of memories, it shall be sweet

To no longer recall who I have been
Or why art mattered, why love was cruel
And how the seasons fell, little squire anti-climaxes.