Best Bristles Poems

The burial ground,  groomed to greet
the gatherers of their love apocalypse
with garlands grown and sown
from the rose fire of Athena's throne,
on this day they come to mourn
the Poet who perished for the passion of his Beloved Poetess,
the battlefields knew well the iron of their...

Continue reading...

alarm goes off*
I sit straight up startled and scared
Just my alarm, I hit the button
Get up and go to the bathroom
I brush my teeth with my toothbrush
Scratchy, painful bristles
Toothpaste that makes me sick
With the strong mint flavor
Back to my room going thru clothes
Too scratchy, too...

Continue reading...

Searching outside of myself
Far and wide
Looking into the eyes and souls of others
Seeking answers 
Looking for my missing part
Always sensing an absence

Awakening one day with tears in my eyes
A complete realization
I had found my missing piece
Or rather 
My missing piece had found me

Silent warm tears...

Continue reading...

   His fragile limbs in a caged body 
    seeking proteins from ivy drips
     vulnerable fears hushed by whirring darkness
      paranoia draped in wavering existence of malady
    ...

Continue reading...

I have walked past the mirror so many times,
God, I cannot believe what I see.
I once was a painter of great songs and rhymes,
Brushing rainbows and drinking muse tea.
I sang to the hearts of the rich and the poor.
"He's a genius, a prophet," they said.
I...

Continue reading...

A noble Black Oak tree stands tall and tranquil 
Wearing brown, old and dried crumpled leaves
Withstanding all autumn and winter storms
Without any distress or any grief
Golden fall is long gone, cold, wet season is also concluding
Spring is poking its head up with colorful bulbs blooming...

Continue reading...

OH VINCENT

Oh Vincent, can we ever know what torments plagued you; 
what demons fought you; what images raped your senses?
It was no accident that you sent blinding blasts of brightness
swirling, like hurled saucers to splatter upon your night sky canvases.

There you found your voice feathered...

Continue reading...

If bristles are mouth
I shall use them to praise
And my hairs are mouth
I shall use them to praise
For He's leading my way upon the choice I made
For roads are many and manta devours my head
In an abyssal ocean; brain drenched of ideation,
Still I swam a...

Continue reading...

Zurrip Zurrip
rip it, pull it, yank it free
peel your velcro heart from me;

stick it to lashes
stick it to hair
stick it to a love that's barely there.

Zurrip Zurrip
fine job you did to zip me in
a velcro heart plays to win

loop it in my mind
lock it on...

Continue reading...

It rained on and on.
the fire in the hearth
had long died out.
hunger grew,	
frustration raged.

vultures swooped down
 to feed on flesh in the night
half willing, half resenting,
surrendered, rather subdued,

desire spilled over,
bristles pricking
from organ to organ
thrusting and tearing 
devouring in greedy gulp

waves surged past the log

passion spent,
hunger...

Continue reading...

Splashes of pink from the flowering Crabapple....haze through
the sturdy square of lemon yellow glass - framed in Knights's Armor
....at parade rest on my porch.

   Inside on the ledge, my Christmas Cactus welcomes Spring....with
bazookas exploding triple pink perfections in every direction!

   ...

Continue reading...

I picked up your blue hairbrush
I held it a while today
The hair between its bristles
Still smells of your hairspray

I drank my morning coffee
In the mug that has your name
On its rim still dressed in red
Is the slightest lipstick stain

I put your reading glasses on
To read...

Continue reading...

Come find me in solitude
wheels in both hands
confined to smooth movement
legs in motion
carefully studied years before
in colored tights

On dry bed
Small rustles in the dark
swift touch of silken hair
nervous bristles
That cutting sharpness
fragile green
disappears in dusk
in corners and
leaves

Grass seductively winks
when too close
punishes a tender caress
opens a spine...

Continue reading...

A frequent favor is soon a debt:
It makes cupped hands close into fists.
Now that my hands are empty,
I see your breast heave with cold dark clouds—
A sure sign of the storm to come.
A pool of slime gathers in your eyes 
That just yesterday were wide...

Continue reading...

Canvas,

Soft brush strokes touch your lips
every word a colour
caressing those little bits
creating a soul
a whole

a panpsychism 
free conscious
no objections

I the bristles bending with the curves
biting down at the turn
of the page
bookmarked the darkness bleeds
and I surface for another read
red looked up at green
back to blue
a...

Continue reading...