Tuesday, February 18, 2014

The Final Dance

Said the hopeless cat to the moon,
"Take me to the grave of the night
for I shall not live."

It's unfathomable hunt
for the naked truth
steering forth
a cutting-edge phase
of a more hollow chapter

...in that which is said, is often forgotten...
along the pallid beams of the moon, fresh tears drop
with a consoling song to immerse upon
she laid it's worn out self...

for what had been said, she'd never forgotten
it is locked...hidden within

waiting to be set forth
to the unjustifiable unknown

for the vast hollow to swallow it...

In the vortex of life,
after the winter,
there comes the spring
it sprang with hope;
glistening in utter lust...

she breathed in analytical tranquility...

restored and coated,
settled in grace ,
tossed yet surviving;
the fetish Cat sleeps in fur.

In the split second
where FEAR

F
a
l
l
s

she pursues the journey
to find the answer
staking her being
on the line

A warrior
clothed in jubilance
mouthing in radiance
the Destiny
is now near-at-hand

she gingerly speaks
it's purr, shudders the moon
in lush...

take me to the grave of the night
play the canticle
take a chance

I'll take the final dance.


Sunday, February 16, 2014

False Expectations

If only I caught you
oh vivid rays of sunrise
then an unquestionably gladness
would dance upon my eyes

Within the wave of ballads
I'm hunting authenticity
I've learned: not all roses can sing
rather, some hum in perfect hypocrisy

The fractured path of yesterday
I wish I'd never been
the forlorn lane of faux promises
made me forget how happy I had been.

Some of them think religiously
the proper essence of self-worth
is the summation of their fabricated beauty
plus their unmerited towering net worth

Lucky are some roses on natural soil
no toxin has poison their minds
unlike some that are watered by money
fanatics of lies...color-blind.

Some roses are not roses in winter
only a camouflage of soiled beauty
a plague killing high hopes
a friendship of treachery

If only I'd caught you earlier
oh glossy rays of sunrise
then surely no pieces of broken trust
would reflect upon my eyes.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

The Healing (Flu 4)

This harmony she hears
cradles her soul from the grave
to an unending stream of calmness
Her smile grows wider as the tune plays on
'Drown me in your soothing refrain',she says
Being swathed by this melody
only heaven knows no bounds
'an exemplary Wednesday afternoon'
She thought...
Head buried on tender pillow,
she shut her lids to slumber
Her heart melted in contrast of ardency on flame;
an aura of sanctifying bliss...
while the angelic tune goes on and on.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

The Curse of Winter ( FLU 3)

The burning candle
weeps...
cutting...pallid...
canvas of anemic images
can be seen by these ailing eyes

Streams of cosmic meddling 
gyrating spectrum of phantasm 
reliving pieces 
zoetic in dynamic prelude 
a decrepit's vanilla brain bonk...

Troops of quietude
tried to mingle with multicolored lights
emitted from the Christmas tree
tormenting this earsplitting silence...

Sentiments never bail out these sickish lips 
reefed...laid-low...doomed...

take this bug in me 
this bug eclipses in hell's cloak 
impaling the weeks gone passed 
I hate the decrepitude it created
my prime pleasure killer 

As the burning candle weep 
melted flames infusing my arteries 
cutting...pallid...
canvas of anemic images 
can be seen by this ailing eyes 
a distant decrepit...i become...

Don't finish me yet
i'm not well rehearsed for my funeral
repulsive submarine
my imminent low...

before, the crisp winter wind blew me
each blow teeming with toxic spell
each breath...each flutter...
paradisiac...flawless drown.

Who would thought i'd breathe the wicked poison
out of mother nature's breath?

Was it your fault...
Was it mine...
Was it...the totality?

As the burning candle continued to weep
I lit the lemon grass incense
hoping the healing aroma
could ease the befuddling inside me

my eyelids half close
and again I submerge to the torrents of my favorite songs
leaving all questions to the unknown.


Breakdown on the Sofa Bed (FLU 2)

Seems this dark cloud never fades
no more smiles on this winter night
I chill to the coldness of this room
as my body temperature raises higher and higher

If it's okay, i'll say i'm okay
but even a little whisper.... aches
my throat complains of the pain it bears

I light the candle and the scent of orange and apple fills the air
and I light the lemon grass and Japanese cypress incense too
hoping them healing aroma could ease the restlessness inside me

I then submerge in the waves of my favorite songs on iTunes
for hours, i dream as coldness steals my soul

I woke up
to blackness

hands shaking
i again light the candles and incense
my favorite  candles and incense
then played my choice of music
again

while Bruno Mars' "It will Rain"  raises the emotion of these four walls
it reminds me of work, Sarah....when Lady and I sing this song together...

I miss work and the ladies...

the cold waters that leak from my burning eyes
the bear witness of how much i hate this

FLU


Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Antigenic Drift (FLU 1)

Head aching in alarming pain 
the torment consumes my eyes 
with run down heart
I complain...

How two weeks had passed 
your attendance, stealing and assuming 
chills successively burn my skin 
as each bit of your raging temperature races 
from my hurting head to quavering toes 
to mate my body aches...with watery eyes.

Ignoring your presence
the work is engaging and potent 
with wee changed of weather 
I complain...

How hours had passed 
your company, unwanted but condoned 
yet these mixture of your appalling indicia 
transmitted natural heat to a devastating degree 
formulating fatigue, lacking caution 
slimy liquid flows from the nose...antigenic drift.

Struggling to keep my cool,
the phantom sifting through bounds 
with respiration rough and roasting 
I complain...

How you easily passed immigration 
your donation, tax free and unauthorized 
shedding virus,raiding living cells 
terrorizing my reluctant pockets
with infection augmenting in noxious greed 
its wicked technique...invoked ordeals.

Glooming in ghastly threat,
the torment consumed my eyes 
with crestfallen heart 
I complain...

again and again..








Tuesday, December 17, 2013

POETRY

At night
you trip to my dreams
and snag a place
for my mind to be still

You block the disturbance
as you slowly paint
the silken canvas...

dissolving aggro...
defusing lemon grass-like aroma
so soothing,
so suited to my taste...

simple yet calm
you flatter my rustic mind
with a soft flutter...

such sweet indulgence,
a subtlety of some sort..

lock me away in your  snug
in feeble beauty of nakedness
bare each hunted feeling

see through me
for only this moment
i let you cradle me
in each current of emotion..

dear Poetry.