Your pulse is an imaginary prism,
Fixating between red, purple and rose,
Shifting with every passing moment
And lingering upon lips
Like a foreign accent.
How deeply can these hues beget
With winter’s sun
Hanging upon sky’s brow so low?
Three sides and full strides
From now until the end of time.
You’re drivin’ fine baby
With those blonde curly locks
Deep cut with blazing canons
I feel your fire
And it’s not just those eyes
Darting lightening bolts
Around this lame room
Cheap roses curling around your arm
Inked into the desert sands
That have blown across your skin
I want to feel those fine
Black leather pants
As they slide to the ground
Crumpled about your ruby red toes
Those five inch matte black pumps
A tiger’s growl baby
Is no more powerful than that snarl
Luscious red fully bloomed lips
And hand crafted pearly whites
Baby, what’s your name?
A little sick soldier floated into my ear today.
He loudly exclaimed he was here to stay.
Over tea we discussed merry things,
Like rooibos tea, poppies,
And the smell of honey on a pretty girls lonely lips.
We both cringed.
We both sighed and laughed
With wicket intensity
That held my soul
Into unconditional surrender.
For after all, I survived these
Battle scars and sleepless memories.
I have got angels.
They dance around naked with long blonde locks
And sing amongst each other banging a drum.
Whenever I stand up to join the chorus
They stop and they wonder and stare at me lost;
It’s not a ‘what the hell is he doing’ stare,
But a ‘caught in the crossfire of beauty’ look.
They tell me my voice is why they stay
Dancing around here, naked as they play.
I have no reason to not believe my angels
For when I am lonely, they are my commitment.
They are what brushes past my face after tears flow,
They are what flickers in my early morning eyes,
They are the cinnamon spicing my sauce,
They are what smooths my sleepy brow out.
My angels cannot do me wrong.
No matter what song perches about their supple lips,
Their fingers dance nimbly through the air.
When they dream of things I cannot yet see,
Their drum echoes through my heart
And I imagine that I can indeed see their spells,
– Woven upon me so tight –
And I hear even in daylight they’re not far away.
When I begin dancing, when I share their dream,
I know I have got angels, and they have got me.
[he]
Cruelly crushing my soul
With those eyes;
Deep and inviting.
They’ve already taken
Large bites out,
Chewing amorously while
Licking perfectly plump lips
[her]
If you can’t handle my soul, baby,
If it urks you to look,
Like a ‘cuda lookin’ to cuddle
I’ll wrap you up and squeeze.
Cause life ain’t meant for missin’,
There ain’t two takes here, honey,
This is your last chance train
[he]
You knew before you said that
That I’m hooked, baby, hooked!
Like a marlin surfacing madly
I’m shaking all ’round
Lightening of your fire
As it comes and I submit
This is me, baby. This is me.
[her]
Oozing is my next move
I slowly inhale your soul
I will squeeze it together tightly
Watch it escaping between my fingers
Running through your darkened hair
As the day turns into night
Abandon all of what you’ve known
Copy of a modern whore
Lisping
Relaxing in the neon lights
Menthol pressed between her lips
And Sugar Ray singing her softly
Caressing you
Caressing me
Look, we can slither in
We can copy our hearts
Lost because of dreams
Leaves fly around the whirlwind
Sheltering the misunderstanding
From memories that crawl
Over cold stone floors
Scraping well-worn wooden chairs
Hollow echoes reverberating
Through the whirlwind
I cannot shelter a dove
One whose wings sweep the fresh air
Flapping through autumns deep and husky caress
I cannot Angel the Satanic circles
Pressed between my lips
Biting hard on the whirlwind
That stares, no, floats down my long nose
But then, just as long sands sweep starboard
Just as couches recede into forgiven nightmares
And as hollow steps fade into brisk airs of dawn
Whirlwinds shake down the last remaining hope
Caressing it with intimate kisses and blueberry muffins
And a comfort filled with such sentiment
Teddybears peel off their 2D stares and flicker smiles
That melt mirrors and write happiness into loose leaves
Floating off into the wide expansive whirlwind
I didn’t think I heard you right
Calling my name like a love bird
“Coo. Coo.”
My baited ear; bent.
But your eye, raised brow
Intrigued my senses,
Tingled my nerves, and
Shook my tailored cuff
Into a slow waltz,
A casual saunter.
Dimmed lights
And a smile that pulled
[Gravitational laws of attraction]
Which spit out the cork
And drank straight from the bottle
A blood red moon burned that night
As lovers made their way
Past steaming alleys.
Sleeping sidewalks glistening
In moonlit silence.
Clip-clop street talk with
Romance in a new nights air.
Forward to waking eyes,
Resting pants [still belted]
Carelessly draped over
A wooden powder-blue picket chair,
So tenderly close to that
Matching vanity with a mirror
Murmurs rustling through the sheets
[Down filled comforter]
And a familiar close to home
Written between
Those smiling lips,
But crying a hidden tear.
A soft memory.
Deceive me without eyes beyond clicks of ancient truths that flow like feathers around the citadel, dancing nimbly about while systems shriek in glory-warrior-cries echoing through the midnight sky.
I will not be plundered, wallowed into sober thoughts while brightly colored patrons and ladies of shallow rooms get lost in their own smirking madness that filters ancient wisdom, solid grains of smoke filtering down silk sheets mesmerizing wild charletons with holy charms and glittered dancing.
Trees that flower madness can only hold back repeating chants that break shrouding silence echoing through walls plied thick with rice paper. Concubines shuttling in asynchronous chaos holding lanterns and ringlets and long slender blades through their hair pretending each step means a little more than the last.
How could I stop when I, half naked in the moonlight grasping at smouldering clouds passing through open spaces in the starlit sky. I curled up my toes and dipped my hips while pushing against the tops of my mouth. I’ll elope with whoever I please if it’s all the rage in Little Japan Town. Circling around the erect landscape staring back at me like some Hamilton at the top of the mountain.
Get back to business before light comes up over the left side of the highway. I’m on my way out and this ain’t lookin too happy with all my flowers wilting in darkness’ hour. Cry, with unbounded jubilee, cry those beautiful eyes till their bottom-of-the-shoe-black. Cry until neighbourhood dogs bark along to sorrow and malaise because they bloody well can, they can rip their lungs out and feed them down their throats while licking their lips and begging for more.
Don’t walk: run. Run until running speeds up to faster running and sprinting begins to bleed and basterds start to bleed and whispers start to bleed and candles begin to bleed and pencils begin to bleed and bleeding begins to bleed and all the screaming children yell at the top of their lungs and sit there and wallow in sorry they haven’t even begun to understand because THEY JUST AREN’T OLD ENOUGH. THEY AREN’T OLD ENOUGH. THEY AREN’T OLD ENOUGH. THEY AREN’T OLD ENOUGH.
I’m just not happy enough.
[him]
Could you fall away with me if I promised it was ok
If I took you by the hand and led you towards the rivers edge
Kissed you upon the lips and told you now to jump
I never planned this out before, left here in my nurtured youth
Trembling as I think about unknown, about me alone
About sending you away without my written love notes
My heart pressed deep against your breast in forbidden passion
Ecstasy written between the gay light passed behind your [eye]lids
[her]
I wouldn’t let you cry out loud into the night
Unless I had also haunts of lost lovers swarming around my head
Blanket confusion tickling my conscience with what-have-you-nots
Layered upon layers of silken sheets and fluffy pillows
And teddy bears that leave empty spaces filled
And boudoirs that pacify my opaque thoughts
That wrestle with harmony of yesterday’s future plans
I don’t want you to go away my lover, but go away and leave me to cry
[him]
Did you know then what I had was what doomed me from the start
That my working man’s trousers, neither holed nor soiled
Would pit me against your desires until Eros delayed his return
Until fantasy led my thoughts around romantic lagoons of Europe’s finest
Weeping willows strewn about the well trimmed landscape
Where lovers embraced in subtle corners, lost in speeches
That wore about patience, dressed in each others clothes
I would storm the armed battalion with my bare hands to capture your love!
[her]
But passion fuels lust and leads the way to love
It flutters my lovers heart to rhythmic depth of my pride
Folding my lessons over antique rocking chairs in an Easter yellow mood
Roasting the fagot rapidly upon the hearth of my souls intentions
Acting as liaison for my patience’s clock that ticks and tocks
Rolling my vowels into soothing purring that flesh out unwanted consonants
And bring my eyes to reach at your hands that surround the soul of our family
Growing inside the warmth of a mothers tender heart that sings delight today