Your mouth comes to me, only your mouth.
comes flying
dragonfly blood flare
that lights my night this ash.
entire sea salt dwelling in her,
the whole sound of the sea,
all foam.
Boca drawn for kisses ,
where tantalizing your tongue sleep.
entire world wine is in your mouth,
all the sin
and all innocence.
Boca shut up and when he says, hidden.
Capable of your mouth the whole truth,
the whole truth and lies.
Laugh your mouth and wake up the day.
(Lightning snow there in your laughter.)
As a herd of ponies run over me
kissing your delicious mouth,
your mouth, butterfly wrong,
your mouth others that is blurred
in my circle night and ash.
Tag Archives: litteratur
puppets very bold
sidewalk city flesh
tattooed by footsteps, rain
and spat out gum,
the night seemed so small
it could be contained in a can,
as walking
with hands held as consideration
more than love,
beneath our feet
the city, this beast
harbored many grudges
that seeded into nature
love affairs
side alley muggings
and falling down drunk,
when we found a moment
of thought connecting,
we spoke,
our arrangement was one
created from physical neglect
and no love or lingering passion
would occur,
yet we parted with difficulty
returning to the oblique swathe
of our normal lives,
brought a fear
neither of us could confront
yet truth would not let us
concede to the other
new york at night – vivienne gucwa
aerial burden of the ox
with the old decades shown in the rain
burdening me with a dampness
remorse in it’s wanting has,
flesh colored dreams
drawn tight into deep constriction
the next day would be more relevant,
sipping a coffee cold at the edges
no plate on the mat
hunger not the issue here,
wet clothes painful to the bone
unnoticed by a vapor soul,
scented thoughts
as my mind peeled
drawn into segments pithy and secretive,
pieces i could look at
and not venture a taste
any sweetness gone
acrid juice spilling over lingering images
this fight so ancient
could break me down at the yoke
leaving a harvested husk
and no resonance,
only to be lifted skywards
coffee grew cold
mat still empty
http://dversepoets.com/ #openlinknight
Miguel de Unamuno – My Vulture / Mi Buitre
This ravenous vulture grim scowl
that devours me the fiery bowels
and my only constant companion
till my pain with his hooked beak.
The day we touch the last sip
I rush my black blood, I want
it leave me with him alone and landmark
a moment, no one as hindrance.
Well I want to win, doing my agony
as he my last stripping swallows
surprise in his eyes somber
look to see the fate that threatens
without this dam as satisfying
the terrible hunger that never goes out .
and in Spanish
Este buitre voraz de ceño torvo
que me devora las entrañas fiero
y es mi único constante compañero
labra mis penas con su pico corvo.
El día en que le toque el postrer sorbo
apurar de mi negra sangre, quiero
que me dejéis con él solo y señero
un momento, sin nadie como estorbo.
Pues quiero, triunfo haciendo mi agonía
mientras él mi último despojo traga,
sorprender en sus ojos la sombría
mirada al ver la suerte que le amaga
sin esta presa en que satisfacía
el hambre atroz que nunca se le apaga.
first degree
some river my birth
some river my breath
some river my knowledge
some river i am condemned
some river my clock fails
some river the sun is ravenous
some river my crossing
some river my burden
some river my love
some river trust not regained
some river my being
some river to which i return
some river my body
some river my murder
some river my unfound
to tangled silence
Anaphora at dVersePoets
on notable sea
tone dialing remedy
better than those gulls
filling the air with
pull of sea,
encroaching on ears
cochlea tremors
insistent and provocative,
life needed to be in boxes
without labels,
identifying was not the issue
it was separation,
the telephone a child
cradled under chin
suckling on words,
spectacles perched with vertigo
on top of a crooked nose,
lips always poised
to speak but that was of
no consequence as sound
could carry further than voice,
a scream long prolonged
that was what pain brought,
gulls worse than cicadas
blood curled into fingers
then returned leaving them white
and grasping
still nothing,
slit your veins and fill a boat
with a swilling legacy
of something that
should of been,
letting gulls fall
bathing feathers redder
dVersePoets
Charles Bukowski – Last Straw
Charles Bukowski one of his last readings in 1980
garments that have been pressed
seek her in her grassy tomb
flesh fleece and evening star,
murmurs rise from escaped soul
mouth a shrine to heavens kiss,
text on stone chiseled deep
scythe a scalpel to those around,
to a vow made on cradle key
in binding earth no more a sleep
a million flakes of tempted tremors,
noonday heat rises with the sun,
rise up on quivering breeze
her broken tongue is healing
love a radiant throng
the sick longing eye and dropping of
gossamer veil,
chants names of those exposed
beyond wither,
whole flesh again
i wish back that angry fist
spirits breathe in sensual undulate
on pages of book no longer departed
i have said my piece up to space,
enameled hand paints gallery in the cave
images as she had been growing wild
reaching out,
some say i am a crook
a felon
a murderer
an abuser
LA has no cheap glories for them to remember
i am hunted,
drone circling over head,
zeal of vocal chords will not be heard
splendor and the urban glow
in it’s journey the air skins itself
from the day,
breathe free and roam
away from dark fragrances
that have the stench of destruction,
many colored flowers fear the sunshine
and bee’s in waxen cells wait,
assassin’s claim the holy star
as low shepherds no more as minstrels
play,
ample breasted ornament of the night
gives blessing suppliante aid,
zephyr brings the bleaching draft,
youths desire lanky and untold
held in his journals all that is confident
and private,
cold fires again made him bold,
but from the ground comes an ultimatum
don’t let sorrow bear down,
juicy flood and promised kiss,
half willing freeway traffic unfurls time
as it becomes trapped by clustered vine,
nourished from her bed
lust a luxurious blaze under saffron veils
adds more fever to a new day,
petals had spread from the laden stem,
but those minutes had left ravished eyes
and new reality subsided under overshadowing
wing,
with it’s horrid glare
the air has revealed all
New Light Calls
night has a transparency
imagined or real,
a place before
filaments of light
illuminate horizon,
each beckoning breath
in solitude,
gives darkness an edge
that is solid,
visibility heightens
the heart quickens,
memory a chequered
blanket unfurled
portraits on the retina
in time long exposed
to attributes of being
amongst life,
intimacy a vagrant
of the heart,
wandering far from the only
mortal fixture,
only solace to find a soul
who could be enveloped
in the passage of your
time and find greatness
there,
a greatness beyond the
limits of life and its
restrictive boundaries,
a life to be condemned
to be painfully short,
yet where a soul nourished
that existence and gave
passion surrendered,
all that came within darkness
was new light
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