beat me at the 4a.m read

i see a page that gives
words once as progeny
becoming blue scented nothing,
perched over it
in a damp saffron autumn
umbrella a discreet protection,
i had bathed in those dreams
yearning to be magellan
seeking
beyond the evil trolls,
petals in the forest
delicate uncut,
giving kisses on the souls
which resonate to those who are dead,
strawberry meadows
by the river
tiny seeded red,
dont go asleep
or you will miss
the elephants post themselves
about the pillar,
returning the hopeless
as is the passionate,
consuming beyond sainthood and glory,
arriving back
to a turned page
with fingers that have ancient tremors

soupaphiliac

 

campbells soup
can red white wrapped
filled with inconsequence
chicken creamed white pulse
tomato scarlet flow
twisting opener
pressure and urge
scot towel to mop up
each dribble from serrated
edge of can.
there is no prehistory in these
objects on a supermarket shelf
conditional lifespan,
to be consumed
or immortalized ,
maybe when it is emptied
my heart will be placed
inside a broth of pain
and societies torture,
so different and will not yield
my mind
my art
my love
drip upon my lips
down my chin
i will yearn for more

interior of the narrative

with powdered paint and eye

and quenchless burning soul

deeper dark star fury

takes up the hurrying wind,

purity lost beneath the moon

misty champagne breath

keeps the flow

and warm ones eyes,

flash and hold,

adore me now or die

happy rays

reach sinew and bone,

beguiled so beguiled

by brighter grasp of desire,

fire and malice

forge the steel that cuts

the bonds of spanked behind

erotocise the far out stars

roses wanted only for the kiss,

hey harmony sing and

conceal wine impassioned veins,

sing one more time

the glory and the gem

of our dark hearts,

brutal tug of hair

claimed on oceans shore,

love an orphan of friendship

ceaseless and perverse,

liberty burnt over ashes

in her thrall i am

beat beat beat,

the frenzied imps of fire

in desperate crouch

of soul

i remain

poem, poet , jazz

@dVersePoets

 

without the wind

salt water in winter,

two fingers deep

secret to staying afloat,

vulva tides awash with secrecy

worn beneath cotton bedsheets

and that short black coat,

temptation and lust

a wanting beyond the

open expanse of ocean,

swell and topography,

knowing placement and feeling,

blind cartographer

left fingerprints and tongue

impressions,

beneath  a wayward sun,

tremors that crawl

emotion burned nerves,

and within no hollow thrum,

with tug she guided

fold and rise

waves break over rocks

map has it’s relief

with tidal surge,

shudder and compression,

the moment when the sea becomes

translucent,

and memory of this voyage

imprinted overwriting

others lesser and shorted

Micheline an amazing artist go and visit her website and find her on twitter @artymicheline

Karel Simunek – Bookplate

simunek_obratil_445x592

Beyond Caring

deep silence

audible in the calm,

lit by blood

made from skin,

love a human industry,

his intentional face

written with what

only darkest nights bring,

she reflected what he saw

and had her own

flickering gleam,

restaurant a stage

on which they now played,

a filmy invitation glowed

the mellow strained juices

of calm

thickened by shudder of

her lips,

ecstasies spell knotted

by one kiss,

doubt a pain long gone,

she would know the

hungering weight

and he the feverous

unbound liberty

Joseph Lorusso

Joseph Lorusso

 

magpie tales statue stamp 185

 

 

 

Her Bare Feet

red toenails move

wrapped around

leonard cohen’s voice,

toes extended

as arch and sole

pressed together

rubbing softly

to the rhythm ,

as timbre of voice

fed through veins

vinyl’s soft scratch,

lying absorbed

flesh prickled,

this her moment

lost to sound

given to art

Charlotte Gainsbourg  AnOther

magpie tales statue stamp 185

dissolute art

pop/

art

stars

images cranked over canvas,

celebrity flashbulbs

kreig light flame

against/

walls passionate configure

morals a now sewered creek,

tangent arcs

of eyes caught lust intensity,

brood/

expression of artist

alone watching,

wishing for moist stringy

damp exchange stream,

deliver/

with his palette knife

excise flesh and society,

knead out the fleshy dough

breasts that bare themselves

to him

for signature and kiss,

ice/

rivets many to the spot

they stand,

exclusive voyeurs to insanity

and flagrant erotic exchange,

an orgy beyond the point

of isolation and intimacy,

a swirl of texture

and color,

witnesses to the end

banner

I Mammalia

linnaeus said i was of the breast,

mammal,

others said

homunculus being of man,

i am structure labels and description

hominid not pongid,

erect bipedal classified and arranged

my own name of inconsequence

i am myself living with fossil ancestors,

last of a kind,

pan troglodytes and pan paniscus

my shadow shape and form,

pan feeder and fertility

of these as much as well

not so much as a deity

but origin being

vessel of twenty three chromosomes

and passion to extend the lineage,

being morphologically  comparable

to those of saggital crest,

linnaeus believed in sex and the line

as with his botanica

sexual with bridal beds

as perfumed and scented as passion be

now a dancing self deity

procreation and self extension,

finding the mate

passion raw astounding the stars

grunts of elemental exhaustion

a galaxy of cellular construction

swirl compete and fertilize,

i am mammal

feeder of the breast natures nurturer

and wonder of flesh

dverselogo