Best Immolating Poems

Self-immolating chickens for a cause
Now there's a thought that gives one pause
Perhaps they seek attention to recoup
 a brother lost
so careless, tossed
Monet and feather
thus joined...

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"Salvage"


Salvage the fixating salvation 
unfurling from the wreckage
of a numb world twisted inside
treasure climbs swimming 
the ladder from the deep of all things 
reaching upwards...

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"The Thrilling In-Between"



Touched
Soft cerebral
warm breath 
paints dusky the warm place
whispers across satin skin 
laces come undone
on the lost floor fallen
her skin runs like a river
under...

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I’m always loud. I was never really good at whispering 

I have a love/hate relationship with people and animals

I suffer from bulimia and my vomit...

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This place
New England space
meets inside without
building forest skill character
wild native nakedness merged with puritan souls
enslaved by dark-skinning self-immolating magic
aboriginal roots of satiating suffered bliss,
Yankee hearts...

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I

For once he banished all birds
from the air
       not just Mynas tick-picking
on twitching backs
     ...

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Ascending unto the fourth pinnacles auspicious plyth ~


To quantumly observe these plateaus regions of oeuvre


Molten monograms of monarchies scripted immure; immolating


These gravitating exhibits of perceptions...

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Remote from the equator, remote from all light
Lie victims in the hands of an angry man
Who sees law as wet clay, who sees the will...

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You lay there a broken hearted soul
Torn asunder by those most hurtful wounds
Harsh and painful they lay within you

As your heart flutters and your mind...

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When did I die for you?
When was the moment I ceased to exist
Becoming no more than a shadowy memory
Another conquest amongst so many others
Another notch...

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All the things I fear you have heard
Loving me anyway despite my oddities
Laughter exceeds every word
Emptying the worries I carry with me
Justifying me though I...

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madam, dam, clam, trust, first, burst, earnest, surface, happy, pappy
under, thunder, falls, calls,pearls, swirls, light, night, though, crescendo
tender, embers, up, buttercup's

Madam Make  Sure

Madam make...

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Self – immolating silence 
softens the pain, an art of solitude. 
Evening drifts to come closer to moon. 
Night is summer washed. 
Small stars are...

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I was a moth,
a drifter,
seeking refuge
in the scorching blaze.

Destiny's jaws dug
deep into my hands
each canine like a nail
hammered into my palms
clasping onto my flesh
before tugging...

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Self – immolating silence 
softens the pain, an art of solitude. 
Evening drifts to come closer to moon. 
Night is summer washed. 
Small stars are...

Read more of this work...