RAIN
The storm has come
The long grass sway
In panic throws
Their blades give way
But she has come
To rapture those
Their wrists
Their throats
Like beating drums
Her throne is there
Above the hills
Her loosened hair
Like blood, she spills
Upon the sills
Upon the stairs
Upon the roads
Her mist like Mare
Crescents carved
In clay, by hoof
Those too slow
Lay underfoot
A tangled mane
Her fingers strain
She runs and rides
Across the roofs
She calls the lakes
The river's wake
To drown the plain
To flood the wood
She has come
The long grass sway
She has come
So has the rain
Quiritation, quintessence.
Quirister, chime in.
Sickle moon, slivered crescents.
Harvest, glitter grin.
Quickening, quill? Quoth, quotum?
Grapes of wrath, red tide?
Shelter well, velarium!
Vinomadefied!
Viscid, visibilia?
Victrix, vair, vespoid.
Squirrel, thin ice? About me thaw!
Wasp, be paranoid!
Balefire, baetyl, bedaggle.
Ballyhoo bold, bagarre.
Nacre, naiad? Ne'er naggle!
Baisemain? Bizarre!
Blind bandelet? Binausic.
Belie, binaural beat.
Baragouin, barbette brick!
Blind, basiation? Bleat!
Best, bathysphere? Bathysmal.
Batrachian bateleur.
Ailed, apathy? Abysmal!
Bought ticket, took tour!
Abased or abacinate?
What is left to see?
Death and Doom, dread not thy date!
Just move in with me!
Abodement, abnegation?
Bad omens to renounce?
Chaos, cold is creation!
Pound, buy not the ounce....
shun the encroachment of the dark
focus intently at the task at hand
blinded to peripheral vision
wriggle free of your silhouette
present beyond the corner
circles encompass
captured by crescents
spinning in their circular hold
neither freedom nor imprisonment will ride
reality is just the ache of the dream
the muddled yell & yawn
every emotion a mere numbing agent
sometimes, I think I peeled away the relief
but the block forms are pattern upon pattern
and I'm a diminishing darkness
at the approach of dusk.
ALL the flipping,
tossing and turning,
sand turning black
then red at dawn;
still yawning.
The cock crowing;
sun and moon avoid
my half-open trance.
My crescents ache
from the webbed glass
in the lacrimal corners.
Shadows creep,
reflections of my BOO.
I try to force
my opponent
feet over head,
so I can go back to bed.
Goblin of a sandman
is giggling,
crooning creepy songs.
Dusk breaks and I
hit the Boogieman
full force with his own
container of grit;
I pass out.
As I awaken,
with a blazing grin,
I shine the hourglass,
so peacefully at rest.
A daily walk beside the sea,
restores the mind, sets spirits free.
No day the same, yet so well known,
a moody, kindly voice—soft toned.
The waves roll in, then slip away,
their lingering tug, begs me stay.
Each wave resounds into prayer,
a mantra shaped in salt-sea air.
As they break, crash, hiss, surge and creep,
they caress shores with every sweep.
White bridal veils spread on wet sand,
trailing lace crescents on the strand.
The rhythm of what is seen and heard,
brings peaceful awe to what is stirred.
All who return to stand and see,
pay hushed homage to mother sea—
To mater mer, the source and womb,
the wellspring from where life did bloom.
The blood in our veins that sustains
our cells, is seawater remains.
The sea is blood, spirit and bone,
a deep sweet tide that calls us home.
The dark side of the moon, like earth?
Carefully shadows will appear; surface.
Each new discovery’s like a baby’s birth.
Astronauts alight with mysteries to erase.
The dark side of the moon; negative space.
Its quarters and crescents mingle with stars.
Lovers still arm in arm; with a tighter embrace.
In love, one day, will be considered “over Mars.”
The dark side of the moon gives no cures; ills.
But you never know if the answer for cancer
Is in the crater’s depths or on the black hills.
One bright night will behemoths rescind; a blur?
I heard - that the Sun and his distance
Once fluttered persistence
To the Moon, that her beauty would free.
Through the dark of his absence
Shining still, her florescence
Against the backdrop of stars in the sea.
Chasing day's independence
Bluest skies, fading crescents
As his light forces her to flee.
‘if I could I would fetch you the moon a spoon …’
opalescent like a chakra’s rainbow
your lustrous promise kindled
a path to peace and stability
to the moon and the back of beyond
shining darkness
radiance emerging from shadows
archetypal togetherness forged from above
a pearlescent moonstone
bestowed on our marriage
guided by an expanse of time and space
crowned with infinity
and transcendental esprit
infused by mind body and soul
lunar crescents shone waned
and waxed once again
for better worse richer poorer
in insanity and restoration
to love and to cherish ...
founded on divine intervention
heavenly bliss interspersed
by carnage and despair
blessed by the gift of recovery
it took what seemed like eternity
to understand that
not moon spoon nor
what wants to be written in stone
can be taken for granted
a moonstone
represents more than
stardust to become
or a fanciful pebble
carved by the Universe
love thoroughly vanquishes obstacles
and has inscribed miracles
into our wonderful lives
I weave a narrative of unspeakable taboo, a symphony of sighs and groans, a cacophony of defiled innocence.
Your body, a temple of decadence, a sanctum of sadomasochistic excess, where the strictures of societal mores are rent asunder, and the very fabric of reality is torn apart.
Echolalic luminaries periodically tilt, their sumptuary influence shrinking villages into steel vexations.
Precedence of principles and codes, a paradigm of insecurity, influences vermillion equations.
Jeopardized crescents and tacit furor satisfy the economist’s balloons, coached through versions of fossilized tutelage.
Cathedrals of vice and transgressions wraith through legends, inferring civilian nudists infected by hurakens.
Cultures torque and embark, communicating through the columns of Groningen.
Chiaroscurist initiations of mnemonic memories effloresce in alabaster vigils, aberrant cadastral mortmain consuming convergent dispossessed flâneries.
it flew
tipping dewed valleys
gleeful melodies to each wandering soul
aloof in an eloquent crescents daring fold
drifting remedies reminiscing
star gazed idyllic desires
twinkling a picturesque uplifting in
pleasant powdered gleaming faith
petals drenched in tapestries
twisting laced lavender scented dreams
stroking desolate pavements
solely on hushed mumbled commands
of a wind carried dimmed lantern
it flew
all are
here now
hugs and
kisses
have the
blessing
feast is
ready
turkey
dressing
giblet
gravy
English
peas and
creamed po-
tatoes
green beans
cornbread
buttered
crescents
sweet tea
coffee
cherry
cheesecake
apple
cobbler
to the
tv's
some for
movies
some for
football
in ten
minutes
all are
snoring
soon we’ll
waken
and start
making
plans for
Christmas
You sigh like a jazz nightingale,
Youre sweet as a croissant,
And bouquet,
With your hands upon the petals,
And crescents,
of your hips,
Within stillness, youre swaying,
As fine as can be,
And our love parts the midnight clouds,
When you sway,
Youre even lovelier,
Than an evening rose,
And I love you,
Simply and ethereally,
Love you lovely lady,
With all of the flowers in the gardens,
To sway with,
Enchanting and lovely,
I wanna be enchanting with you,
I wanna be enchanting with you,
With all of the flowers in the gardens,
To sway with,
Enchanting and lovely,
I wanna be enchanting and lovely,
I wanna be enchanting,
and lovely with you
Reynaldo Casison
Upon evening and exotic shores,
I feel the mist of your hair,
Your hips,
Of the sweetest crescents,
Dance like a ballerina,
With an irises love,
And its blush of lavendars,
Serenading vases and gardens,
Your accents of honey,
Born of the enchanted waves,
Caresses the soul,
With loving midnights,
And tender noons,
The evening sways,
With lovely,
and solacing bouquets,
Its mango sighs,
Strewn along the petalled vistas
Reynaldo Casison
Her beautiful misty eyes,
And sensuous soul,
Exotic and soft,
As rose petals,
Warm as candles,
And bright as crescents,
Are lost,
In the intimate space,
And,
Surreal,
Stillnesses,
Like,
a melody,
and,
her,
Love
Reynaldo Casison
She must of been,
A moonlit,
ocean wave,
The way her exotic body,
Glistens,
With,
A sweet,
enchantment,
And,
Warmth,
Of compassions,
With her,
kind sultry gaze,
And crescents
Reynaldo Casison
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