The Cure slow motion sobriety stirs direly like ticks on a thin-horned beast the black and white film resonates greasy black hair crawls like ants drunk for weeks, the smell lingers like a mucous trail of a banana slug blood dances a tango in your head vomit and snot, well-oiled fireworks explode on your white…
Tag: sea
”Arctic Hymns” Now On Hotel Masticadores
Arctic Hymns ornate, sea eagle, liberate God’s lapis lazuli skiesunfurl thy seven-foot wings for us this dayrise the spired scalp of acorns slice frigid, wintry soilmy fisherman of Kenai River rest from daily toil come with leathery hands to my rousing limbsnestle my steamy body as I sing my Arctic hymns sandy blonde hair lay…
Tears To Flowers
Light sprinkles like pixie dust from my heart. Trees choreograph spiritualistic arches as bird pirouettes on angels’ wings to give gratitude to Our Father. They balance my senses while roaming the lines of age upon their singing branches like a Panther Chameleon. Paint me in lemon-red colors as tears of euphoria and melancholy drip into…
Flaming Sunset Now Live On HotelMasticadores
touch my skin through silk, as air-born feathers malleable to your tender strokes, I close my eyes release me, take me from my bone-thin ancient tethers space disappears, my beloved refuge, pursue me assimilate my soul, as a window weeper whose pain is tainted by my clarity of the indignant power of the sea…
My poem “Sands of Our Glass” on MasticadoresIndia
alleys close renewmoments jumpparts of memoriestime moves like a slugwarm flesh holdingmine, a seagull risesred hair escapestightly fitted bunsea salt sings preludeconnecting dots withtiny freckles, laughingplacing my pale handon your heart it playspercussion, a drum circlecompleting the orbit To finish reading my piece, please go to MasticadoresIndia ( now called ChewersMasticadores ) and don’t forget…
back to nature
freedomcutting my long hairadorning myself with natureoysters share their flawed pearlsearthworms sing songs of gratitudesilk stockings gathering at my thin ankleswearing a tiny cotton flour sack, I feel peacemy soul sailing on a boat, feeling a joyful worldly release Don’t forget to place your vote at Spillwords Press NYC for Author of the Year, Poetic…
