( May I tell you a
Tale, dear reader, a tale un-
Untold? If I may… )
I used to… want to…
Be the greatest poet, in
History. But now?
I feel nobody
Would notice even *if* my
Words were great indeed.
I feel nobody
Would notice my words even
If I make them sing.
#Money to be made.
(Pennies are for wishing wells)
For U$, time ain’t free.
My thoughts can’t be bought…
I guess that makes them cheap: Words
Written in free speech.
A leader, a leach…
They say freedom is in deed
Subjectivity
I say, let them speak
Until they’re tired, weary
Of not listening.
Stark contrast: that’s you
Waking up from a dream of
Interpretations
He said, and she said,
Everything under the sun
Except this one thing:
Nuance, subtlety
Maybe this moment is thee
Essence of me, us.
Simplicity is…
A long-winded breath before
Whatever comes next
History is a
Story, with books hidden all
Over. Our home is…
Our home is a myth.
We, the mythical beings
Who misplaced it here.
Where ancient wars are
Enraptured with spells called words
And words are wounded.
Wounding, as it were
And some never seem to heal…
What do *they* reveal?
A revelation;
Revolutions mistaken;
Retrograde motions;
For who am I but…?
Ocean waters; erosion
Sands slowly breaking
Sounds slowly making
Their way to your vibration
Ripples, rippling.
I blew you a kiss,
But it missed, my love, alas.
At last I see: _____.
(You.)
Not a romantic
Post-script, unless romance is…
This ________ air we breathe.
By the firelight…
My eyes are closed, that I might
Open them again.
My lips poised, unsung
Poison on the tip of my—
Tongue. I spit it out.
Our spirits whisper
This infinite melody
Inhale, exhale ______ .
Eyelids fluttering
As if in rhythmic po*ems
(Scintillating stars)
Butterflies of our
Skies, disguises are…hiding
Our true desires.
Syllabics… Our home.
Twinkle, twinkle little Bee
Beings that we are.
Seeing as we see.
Glittering as we dream of
Silent sounds: Awake!
In our ears we hear
All our hopes and all our fears
Dischord, harmony
Following us as…
We wander, and wandering
With us (across space.)
(Time?)
Plutonic whispers
‘Wish that Love may again be
Witnessed in this Sea…
Flowering wonders
blosSsom up from underneath
Our sun, Our moon, our…
( /// Not a romantic
Post-script, unless romance is…
This _____ air we breathe.)