Of The Remnants of Roses

What’s left of her dancing distant breaths
What kept wept and slept to the left of the white
Bright but blue in hue
The remnants of what’s left of me and you
Ya know? But how could you?
Do what the earth needs In the morning’s mourning
The dew with wet and bereft
Of knept and swing toward what bird’s sing of thing
And the Love of GOD and a nod toward forward thinking
Do I sound like I’ve been drinking?
Perhaps; the lap of the orbit of swoon I dance the stars for the love lit moon
And soon the evening will end could we dance ‘til the silence
Of the wind?

 Chay 2012

 

Between You and Me

Roses and wine and candles and wind chimes
and time and today
images of love unlimited
present it with prism with
woman with the gift of love
doves and air and cloudless sky
wonders beyond dare
shares of tears dried eyes
suprise and sown sweet sayings of hearts
sparks of feelings and small talk
walks in the park after dark
nightcaps and midday Saturday naps
laps around the universe
lonely dispersed into nothing
back to something it works
between you and me

Rue the Day of Love

Do you dream to demean
A nigga like me?
A giver of my liver if I had it
My habit is that im stuck
Fucked with giving unto you
Giving ‘til im blue in the face
Give my life id replace my all for you
If you only knew what I would do for you
But you live in fear from what you aint never get
From him from them
You live in a pool of never forget
So you wont let yourself love me
Rub me raw
Kill me with my own give-all
‘Til I crawl back to GOD for forgiveness
Liveless unto an idol I make love I make you
I take you for my unlawfully wedded
Indebted to bled it out
‘til my veins ran dry with why
Live give and let die
Nothing dust no air not even eye
No cry no justus just you
And on to the next fool-for-you
I deserve to rue the day
I met you and unleavened myself
To unhealth death do us partly because
I was what love should never be what was idolatry

Brooks Was Here

Dreams are foreign
With sovereign doctrine
The song of men with sixpence
And a sense of none
Numb and locked in lust with young
I’m hung in one
Spot
Brooks was here….

What year was it
When the buzzards filled the sky like blizzards
Snowflakes locked in circumstance with a chance
Of advance Im circumspect
Lost in a pool of lack of respect
Success a mess of madness and too pitiful
To call sadness
What are you?
What am I?
But for a fly in the Annointment
Lost in mint julip frosted tulips accosted
By the moss fit of illigit thought
Wrought wrong in song so strong
And elongated penetrated masturbated
Uneducated impurity
Fury me with maximum none
Hung from where the institutionalized
Realized cries fell on deaf ears for years
And the breath of the many disappears
Like the ghost of fear
Brooks was here……

Dry Socket

Dry Socket

It hurts
Even though the tooth was pulled
I fulfilled the rest of the result of the sin of omission
Attrition of tragic bad decision making
Precision taking the sniper shot on my marriage
The assassination of a life’s work
The assertion of family desertion
Its dead and I tried to resurrect it through the soulless illusion
Collusion with collision
When you let in what should have its natural conclusion
Its rightful end then
Expect the pain to linger
Not unlike a bee’s stinger that should fall out by itself
Prayer and time brings the injured soul back to health
I hope
I caint mope but as I look back
I know I stacked the deck against
I climbed a fence of doom
Built by my own hollow hands
Perhaps I’ll become a better man

Chay 2011

Smoke It Till It Burn

Smoke It Till It Burn

I learned to smoke it down to the tip
Until I dipped back out of the burning water
I can’t find my daughter even though
I know exactly where she is
She is dead center in my heart
She’s the reason why I endure winters
And smart she is
She is the beginning and the end of my sinning
The reason winning is paramount
What I’m all about is her and her dreams
I die trying to bust the seams and lock out
Rock out with my knockout right and left
I run the race for my Dana
I’m on crutches lame at the gate and I’m lurchin’
I’m the walkin’ livin’ breathin’ cross
I am the church and
THE CHRIST is the center
Enter : if you dare
If you care barter your soul
On everything the song is sing
Rings clear and true
I thought you knew who
I am the man with the burnt up hands
With plans to conquer the known universe

Adrian Philadelphia: Screams of The Damned

He looked out upon the fields of the grape that were so tenderly cultivated. The workers were few but the profits were enough, perhaps more than enough. Adrian had built himself a life in this body he had borrowed so long ago. Its former owner had long neglected its form. Humans rarely understood what they had in the flesh they were born with. Adrian understood it full well. He understood its shape, its power and its majesty that all came together to form GOD’s greatest creation since The Trinity: Mankind. The way the synapses fired in unison with the tendons and muscle mass was as amazing as the quarks and stars chasing one the other across the universe. Yet, man did not appreciate his role in the hierarchy of THE KINGDOM. Adrian thought this as he let his gaze wander across what his Adam-led hands had built. He had given up the dream of being the “anti-Christ”. His spirit was bound to the body he had acquired and one of his fellow demons had informed him of Satan’s ignorance of his hollow. Satan had been lost in thought for what seemed forever and Antarius was virtually running things in the lower heaventh. Meanwhile, Adrian was stuck on Earth in this body. Had he died, he was not sure that he would be released by Satan. He feared he would be trapped in hellfire screaming forever with the souls so heinous, they got the bypass of judgment and Paradise. So he stayed. He married. He raised children. He lived.
“What kind of demon am I that I have settled in this life of human existence?” he said with a resigned sigh.
“They have never had visage outside of this simple mud crusted orbital death trap” he muttered, amazed at the first true irritation of his plight. Just then he felt the presence of his other half’s arms consume the width of his age swollen waist, something that seemed to endear him more to her.
“What are you grumbling about, my love?” his wisdom said with the lithe voice that reminded him of the morning song of the sweet crickets that preceded the illumination of his fields of gold that were paint brushed by the rays of the sun’s skyward climb. “Nothing, my love.” He smirked as he lied. He could sense her before she came anywhere near his personage. It was the tendrils of darkness that ran along the blue colored veins that danced along his field strengthened arm. That darkness all but danced through the repugnant spirit of evil that was the housing of the battery of this empty but sickened soul. It was known in parts unknown as The Consuming. It was the complete antithesis of The Anointing: the solar wind to the angel’s sails. It was the liquid light that rushed in a river of Godliness through the heart and minds of The Believer. It healed and exorcised. It was so powerful, enough to change the course of the Red Sea. It was the light blood of the heart of GOD. It was everything The Consuming was not. The Consuming ate holes in souls and crumbled men that could not control it. It was the gift that Satan gave unto men that called upon his unholy name. Now, the body that Adrian controlled, it pulsated in lustful anticipation, almost a person itself.