Long Papery Poems

"As other spirits sail on music, mine, oh my love, swim on your perfume." Charles Baudelaire

"Sometimes you find an old bottle from which the soul returns." 
Charles Baudelaire

"Smell is a Word. Perfume is Literature."

"There are...

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RED SEA

At the mouth I lay splayed
blood trickling, slowly dripping into soft mud or red Akashic ink
             mud of my anus, ink of...

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“The Lewis Trap”



Well, of course he's misanthropic
He’s a Misanthropic Man
The Devil’s in the details
Buried deep under the covers
Of bedtime stories, slithers ‘neath loose sand

A Liddell bit of cake
A Liddell bit of julip
Sweets for a sweet...

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I got a text from one of my professors yesterday saying, ‘Please stop by my office at 6 pm tomorrow.’ It didn’t say why. This was the first day after November recess, had I missed...

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In the middle ages
these roughed and scuffed decades
between newborn crocus snow-melt-nursed and
dried hydrangea blooms sepia-skinned and papery thin
I earned the right to wear sapphires
and burn my mademoiselle mistakes with wisdom-fires

it took me a while to...

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Her long sleeved robe matched the hue of the plants so perfectly 
that it was hard to tell where the rest of the color and her form began. 
Her skin was a papery, ghostly white....

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A field afire
papery petals glow like ruby votive candles
a collection of cupped solar flames
vowed to shine despite the dew before dawn
evaporating any doubt the sun would rise
the mist would lift 
consoling one in darkness

Rising up...

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They tell me everything just is because it's an easy thing to say, a quick solution to give to anything before getting too deep into the problem. But would you say to that a famous...

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And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams Are where thy dark eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams-- In what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams!  Edgar Allan Poe
______________________________________________________________

In the...

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How happy can one be?
Ofentimes, I wonder aloud,
Taking advantage of my creative licence.
Let me explain -
The filth I encounter in this city:
Stinking garbage hills along the sidewalks,
Bloody graffiti of betel-nut stains on walls and lampposts,
Jellying...

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A silly superstition enwraps and grips me, 
It holds me and will not loosen its vile, crushing deathgrip:
It is a numerical one, this foolish superstition to which I have my subscription, 
For this is the...

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Lisa, Leong and I were supposed to eat at a sushi place called “Bow Wow”. Lisa and I were coming back from our last class. I covered my face with the back of my hand...

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Of Unemployment….

It’s somewhat strange that the very thing
That provides a life resource takes my life away.
Gives me money to buy presentations of life
While keeping the progression of my mind at bay.
I can feel the neurons...

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Snow draped folds like loose Cashmere curtains cover the evergreen boughs
pining for the lengthening days of each succeeding sunrise,
reticent to see the cold of night fall once again on the lonely landscape.
In this fallow world...

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What a small room - my finger traces dust across the plain table.
What did Grandma DO here? I glance around for electrical sockets - none to be seen.
Her life was spent staring out the window,...

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IMPERFECT ROSE*
the imperfect rose, 
     once vivacious and colorful under the summer sun,
its petals are now wilted, its colors faded and gone.
    its time has passed
  ...

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Thrown together
by circumstances
outside our realm
of control-
as in a bowl
our varied shells
create a still-life
a study in contrasts
of creative coverings
devised so well

Some like smooth pebbles
all polished and shiny
or rough and scarred
all coarse and craggy

Some barely masked like
peanuts,...

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Running from ourselves
We disperse in empty air
Into the raw sharpened winds
The sea-swept shells line up
Like razor-blades beneath our humbled feet
Breaking our butterfly-winged skin we run
Shedding our pain in a trail behind us
Over the pristine sands
In...

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I stood from the foot sole of your eyes
And gleamed in secretly.
Your maned hair moves in the painted breeze:
Quietly, quietly, I hear you scream through your smile.

My eyes shadows your tumult.
The river behind you collects...

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Fingers pirouetting semi-nimbly on the keyboard
the intermediate ballet course of my muse
encoding the fleeting images and rhythms 
before they escape, a joyous outflowing

And from the rough direction of the office, 
or perhaps the Throne Room...

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The withering is so very beautiful.
Eyes build translucent shells for themselves.
there is a falling inward,
mouths move beneath appearance,

Expressions of mortality
falter,
as the mind begins to see
its own shallow reflections,
an understanding,
that all last breaths are a first...

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I am hungry
My carnivorous soul
Must eat
I rip at the steak of reality
With my sharpened teeth
Shredding it
Swallowing pieces whole
Bloody bits
Dripping down my pointed chin
Pure animal instinct
Pours through my body
And dribbles out of 
My mouth
My nostrils
My eyes
My...

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Let insecurities flow with the pen
                           Carve pain into...

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     On spewing wave, our departing ride
     Crazed currents crack, an azure slide
     Freedom mingles in sea foam seethe
    ...

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Have you ever really looked at a Sycamore?
If so, you’ll forever the Sycamore adore
Stand close to its leathery trunk
Feel each curled and jagged bump

Despite dullness of winter’s blight
Bark projects linear glowing white
Conversely dappled color of...

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