i see it in the cracks of your sideways smile
it travels backward towards me even as you turn away
it seeks me like a moth
i see it in your shoulders, tightly held
yet crookedly, secretly reaching through the crowd for me
aligned you are your eyes
a lake of stars
an eerie, erotic mirror
i see you like a fox trying to hide from the moon
ma lumière
mon coeur est allume parce que tu existes
no more no less
c’est tout lumière
to see more of my stuff please go to http://www.artofkundalini.com
sticky city stepping
chamber by chamber
rouge épais
gloving white feet slowly
clinging to fabric
tales wagging
bouche à bouche
tongue power poison courses
gone are borders
man’s fear driven safety catches
sur comme une foudre
Eden
the ink warrior purges forward
riding the tree’s breath
sur tambours roulants
slick black
angelic puffs
in a
Cosmos de chair de graisse sucrée
see more art? http://www.artofkundalini.com
A beautiful friend is translating my poetry for my upcoming book into French!
here is an example of her delicious, delicate and astute translation
Comfort
Our bonds have become our own doing
no matter how tightly we are conditioned
how painful our restraints
how deeply we were wounded or by whom
in the end we sit alone
either free to be
or
holding our own hands behind our back
in an ironic gesture
of comfort
~réconfort~
Nos chaines sont devenus produit de nos propres actions
peu importe la sévérité de notre conditionnement
la douleur de nos contraintes
la profondeur de nos blessures et qui les a infligé
au bout du compte nous nous tenons seuls
soit libre d’exister
ou
nos mains derrière notre dos
dans un geste ironique
de réconfort
is this it
drumming
in my sensitive throat
?
this dreamy elevation pounding up my stairs
buzzing like bees behind my ears
eagling awake my Ursa Major
?
this cliche
slapping my eloquence
lathing me into curling pieces
….
I asked her liquid scales
I begged her
I made water coloured love for her
I sang it
I did
I am
I will
être ou ne pas être
All That Glitters Is Not Gold
it is all just bullshit anyway.....
Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told
Haikus Senryus and Tankas about anything and everything
Poetry
musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry
In other countries individuals go to jail and/or die for weblogging. While the bulk of this country makes the internet an extention of T.V.
Scripting the desires that are soul deep
material
"where creativity roams free"
The Poetry Monarch.
Daily blog posts on life, death, and everything in between.
JEFF CALLAWAY
Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!
Pain goes in, love comes out.
well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.
