Dark Quatorzain Poems

In skies of blue, oh what a sight!
The cherry sun hung very bright,
my eyes closed basking in its light,
my cheeks burned from its fiery bite.

Its...

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Before the day turned into night
The shadows danced and stalked the light
The moon withheld, stayed out of sight
Then took its lone, nocturnal flight

Beyond horizons studded...

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Before the day turned into night,
a scarlet sun inked clouds of white.
And tinted the sky with red light;
a cotton candy pink delight.

Before the birds lose...

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Crepuscular time of day stays  
Slowly gracing the sky with haze
Gone is the golden hue's light phase
The end of day, now animals' praise

Shadows danced...

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Of what may have been, never was,
because we followed not God’s laws,
putting not dark desires on pause
but in sunset years, our heart thaws.

Seeds of lust...

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The sunset clouds are pinks and greys
in tattered strips, in rips and frays,
in feathered flight at end of days,
in summer skies that fill my gaze.

And...

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Tree boughs scope me by window glass,
As the long night without stars pass
The moon out like dead rock— the last
Time dark mornings will be so...

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I am now up and half asleep, 
quiet I must not make a peep, 
others are still sleeping like sheep, 
need to get dressed and...

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Nature’s Photographer


Heaven’s water-tanks roll loud on each cloud
At beats of drum pounding each lonely heart
Rain heavily bursts in great rhythms, so proud
Wind sways abruptly with...

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If flies in our sleep is meat
Ketchup-ing all we can eat,
But I’m warning you, you have to be fast.
Grab a plate quickly, when the die...

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There is a longing to the sea
	When gazing at the glossy floor.
Time and tides roll in and out,
	Lonely waves upon distant shores.
A siren’s call from...

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Do not drown in your sorrow,
This dark storm is not the end,
Look forward to tomorrow,
This cloud too shall pass, my friend;

It's difficult, I agree,
To stop...

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T U R P I T U D E



On and on, slash! My sweetest agony thrilled to tease, SLASH!

Puff, PUFF! Cooking my skin into tender...

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A BRUSH OF ARS POETICA


Rhythmic verses wherein death paints a picturesque of life
or life itself is written in lethargic-dying state:
a dusty stocked vocabulary still cuts...

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EFFUSED ENCOUNTER


Neither a dream nor a trick, I beguiled--
I reach the sky enameled with golden smile.
To hurdle bumps and curves, I continue to pedal
this steadfast...

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