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An Opening.

For Nothing is aught else but Cold
and Nothing thrice is nothing more.
Chief requisite that aught is told
in epopee, archival lore
needst something wrought of nothing come to be.

Eternity does not begin.
Time renders never back its flow.
The Flame will have not origin.
Ablaze thru All and Aye, ergo
‘tis paradox the Will that would be Free.

Another Chance

God have mercy
Give me another chance
Let me erase the past
And redraft my cast

My life has been
A big mistake
Lord, give me power
To cut and paste

Oh, how I’d like
To change my life
Especially the parts
I’ve cried and sighed

Can I choose
the actors in my play?
If so, it'll be
my happiest day!

Your Holiness, give me
Insight to realise
What is going on
Inside their closed minds.

the third sex

you define love so beautifully…only with a subtle difference …you are an idealist
today’s world is sexiest…they still feel
‘’’love lies between the thighs’’
and
that's what makes the world come out
from closets
as gays
and lesbians
the third sex LGBT
ought to also be recognized
as the channels of sex
as human minds are as different
as the urinary tract and hearing system

TRAINS

TRAINS
summer’s nighttime dreaming
streaming sweat of discontent
sleep tortured till dawn’s light
and morning breezes

trains weeping
high in the night
as they leave the station
waiting
to take me
to safe hiding places

J U I C Y

long before the hinterland
the winterland

this

nights against the dark hue of ebony
star raker stellar gardens

walk with me on the wide bermed beachs
sift for the gleam of amber
sip the cup of ambrosia from an
old war flask

"The best of both worlds"

you sigh wiping a strand of
hair from an eye

there are jungles of kelp
in the West you tell me
tall as an apartment block
full of life

you have dived
certified

Coming Of Age

Coming of Age
Yearly Autumnal advent, foreshadowing
Winter's austere inevitability.
Fragile leaves come easily fluttering,
spiraling to the ground.
Soon to become crisp and thin,
in a state of Mother tree's reluctant discards.
Some rest at her feet
under her branches near her trunk.
Waiting to be raked into piles
until children come to jump in the gatherings.
The more adventurous of her offspring
take off riding the wind to
distant places, without a care

The Arrogant

I.
The Arrogant's been here for years,
roaming the Earth, the lavish land,
sowing the seeds of dreadful fears,
with His own brutal, cruel hand.
II.
Most oft than not, He killed his friend
His father, brother and His kin,
and purposefully committed
the forbidden and utmost sin.

1
As deep as the layers of Earth
go the folds of this rumbling tale,
to tell little 'bout hatred's birth
as well as love's successive fail.

you are so intimate

that's what I thought
as I stepped forward
my chest seemed to be caught
in the lengthy nails
I imagined to be, too true
yes that was you,....

then a side twist of my body
upon yours curvaceous
jerked me off
as you tried to too,

Your Snoring

Your snoring always woke me up
And still does or
So I think when aroused from the
Arms of some mythological god whose
Name I can’t recall.
A torment to find the culprit me,
Because you’re not here,
You creator of sleepless angels you.

The crispness
in each breath I own
announces this time of year;

I exhale
and it seems the leaves all turn.

All possibilities
of spring
pull the leaves to the ground,

then chance
comes into play where each will land.

In the end
the earth is nourished
and time must continue,

thus we are blessed
with harvest's yield for that year;

surrounded by pleasures
we'll find ourselves hovering nearer the hearth,
bundling-up to erase solstice's chill.

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