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Tight ropes,on the tight ropearound the throat of caress,kissing velvet into blue,merging flesh with the constrictionof traditional deathwith the kisses blownto the fleeing wind. Our eyes rotateto see the Heavens,blue with the earth’s oceans,green, and the burning landbecomes everything like sand. Hands to our shoulderspull away. Kisses to our cheeksturn apart,break our skin apart,as we…
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“The creation of art is just as it is, before destroyed. When it is destroyed, the destruction is not another creation because creation cannot follow a domino effect without it becoming mass production. A routine, according to a domino effect, is therefore not creative. Creativity is spontaneous inspiration, the effect of lust, or the willingness…
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Description: Within these pages, details include the differences of heart and mind, by the metaphorical context of both. Comparisons and contrasts are there to show what the heart is, being the ultimate state of care, whereas the mind exists to the materialism area of us where people are more willing to be disconnected from the…
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A drink, would you take me up on it? Hell has never had such bitter oceans and driving rush. Not spring with its morning dew could renew your eyes, nor could a gleam from winter’s sunsets, then on, to a lone summer sunrise. No renewal, at where we met, blossoming buds inside our glances, as…
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“If to be included means to belong somewhere you could not find, on your own, then you were hand-held on the way there. You were given what you wanted. If you had stayed alone to figure it out, you would have embraced what you needed. There is life, and then there is no life. There…
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I could not be the oneto strangulate you,to triangulate youat pinpoint corners,leaving you cryingat the tearstained skies. I could not bethe devil you always expectedto hold your hand,leading you throughto misery’s bleak company. These hours I leanedon the traffic jam of yourstops to be next to me.Sighs were repeated,life was defeated,buried with the rope,the noose…
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Down the trickle flowsto an extended palm.Liquor glows,the afterglow of a drunken eveningI spent washing myself in you,your tears,the taste of everything dear,nothing clear. Parading solace,a perfume of wild eyes,crystal in confusion.Widen the openingto allow me entrance.A bath to soak through the ruin,to build another ending. One more timelosing teardrops as thetraces of you, on…
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“Is it wise to love? No one knows. No one understands why that expressionless force, limited to our expressions of facial features and tears, yet limitless in each direction it goes will keep arriving to take us somewhere new. Love, the alien. Love, the most common of strangers to enter our arms, finding solace, facing…
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And yet,when the fog stays,love’s breath is here tokeep Hell’s warmth on fingers,on a form that shiverswith the cold of amnesia,induced enough to reducea man to his knees. Begging with a plea,answers returning from seato keep me alive with the bleed.From wrists known to be kissed,from a heart that will never startwithout the heat of…
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I watch,as time is slowed downto a ruin.Beneath these feet,a bed is storming and crumbling.I viewrippled sheets into tidal waves,renewingthose lips to exhalea thousand more sighsbefore the world ends. Kissing your chin, as ifthe edge of a wine glass.Lifting you,of those pendulum hips thattell time to an alarm,that to the firewill reveal you apart from…
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Repeat these words,as all women have said,though none have led, – that your beauty divides the wavesbeneath me and thee,for me to never place a fingeron the flesh I have craved. Were you always ableto hold yourself so together,of parts never missingnor ever weathered? Bring a heartbeat close.Close, for the kissupon your fertile breast,then to…
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Holy hopeof something unwantedin its approach,while the devil inside itselfwill find other guilt to wield,to carry as a heavy torch,the lightest of light. Bleed heron the cross,open with her loss,broken in a placememorable to forget, – while fading eyes never seethe cadavers placed next to shein the final hours. Caress her,undress herto stitch the loose…
Modern Romanticism 