Best Rinsing Poems

Kittens In The Barn

He stops and removes his boots before opening the door.  He enters the kitchen and smells the familiar aroma of morning coffee.

"Breakfast's ready, have a seat.  How're the kittens" his wife asks.  

"Damn cat" he says.  "Should have...

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A time of rinsing the sins
A month of happy moods
The way we face god unfacingly
The way we walked our prophets way

The moon a symbol that guides
A creation of allah intwined
Its light reflecting our fast
Till the day breaks does it last...

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Paris then was a place
Where new ideas were
Brewing in the intellectual 
And art communities
And new ones were
Emerging everyday
Some brilliant some not 
Time will make it clear 
What is what
But then it was an exciting
Paris of the time of Artaud

Andre Breton the leader of surrealist
The movement...

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I. The Love of Minds

The volume on the desk,
The one not claimed by dust or burned
By light, will follow her to bed tonight.
Its pages will be turned and smothered,
Each in turn, so as not to rouse in jealousy
The one towards the other. Its spine,
Induced to...

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I'm torn in poetry ~ 
like a fractured syllable 
scattered across 
altars of glistening gold, 
mirroring the maskless faces 
of those, who once 
sold their sanctity for sins. 
Perhaps, there's a
cursed moonlight, 
to which I'll tie 
the champagne mists
of my last summer roses 
and roar...

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k i n d n e s s
is the petrichor perfume
enveloping the sky,
between~
             you and I
as clouds splatter juniper sprinkles,
coalescing stubborn storms,
rinsing away stained foams
with raining roses,
serenading hymns of heaven,
calming the internal conflicts
like...

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It was a miserable existence,
     that of a battered wife
It was a never ending cycle
     of a hurt-filled violent life

She always walked on eggshells,
     avoided direct eye contact
Did nothing that would get him...

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Stuck in place…
Free in space…
you’re insane 
I’m as sweet as sugar cane…
Whatever happened to your unique personality?
Whatever happened to your sanity? 
Has it transformed to insanity?
I like the way you make me feel
Oh, you don’t have to make it a big deal
I love the way...

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I wake to the sounds of laughter and lively music (jazz, I think) flowing free from the empty tenement down the hall. The smooth harmonies and upbeat tempos expand to fill every corner within me. It’s an early Saturday morning in spring and warm enough...

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Waves on the rocks 
a'crashing
In it human feet go 
splashing
And elsewhere in the 
swollen river
'gator tails go thrashing
Water may be stagnant 
or it may be thus moving

Sometimes softly 
dripping
at times forcefully 
gushing
In brooks babbling
In streams gurgling
In springs bubbling
In rivers running

From faucets freely 
flowing
or from pipes...

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Is there such a thing
	as a prolifically sad time?
Surely, there is and was and still can be.
Every generation has had it, sees it,
	some, more than once and those must question,
	How can this possibly be?
       Again?
Blacks with slavery.
Jews with holocaust.
Whites...

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Her curves are rinsing their endless constellation
beneath hot rainfalls of white shower steam,
which is why I stand quiet, sinfully agape even
and willfully paralyzed by an ambrosia of slender echoes.
A drunken prize fighter, dazed by countless punches I spin
from the twirling parasol of her sexy, fitted...

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The wild berries of the Northwest 
it seems every path you walk on , they are there for you to sample ,

Almost as The city of Portland  itself is welcoming you with astonishing beauty, the view of a snow tipped Volcano , as if...

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Like the lost sounds of evening bells 
The voices of children pealing 
The last lie of innocence in papyrus away; 
Not the baubled brook in joy; 
The rinsing screams soliciting crude customs back, 
Spreading phonetic fingers of laughter for aid; 
Our tone dead heart hears...

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Love has become a splendid thing, I love you
Interchanging your soul, our souls in the fog
Of morning drizzling like joy upon the grass.
I will awake this morning, I know I shall
When I am awaken I will sing with you
I am singing for you, I know...

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