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Travel: Here, is the clamor.
Here, is the clamor. Totality crackling. I gather every seed of noise as grains of rice inside my cupped hands. A nomad hymn has travelled as a fantastic bird through an atmosphere of time. Its...
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bellsound
If the end at a glance a whole gamut streaked about to be found last feeble fleeting piece of a second. Someday come. When all the pages are stained with words, but for a white slice of purity...
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to be absurd
To be absurd from feeling to toe, I’d punch the snow to disfigure the torso of beauty to join the mad soliloquists the drunks and hopeless angels with whales swimming in their eyes of quivers. Rapidly...
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spiral measures
I am going to die. But there are days when flesh titillates and joins the circus of the sinews and there’s ecstasy in the flesh as if it were loaves of bread soaked in froths of bliss and the...
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Against finality
There must be beasts that crawl like moons behind the city buildings I stare at their fumes that spiral toward solitude and the streets like swollen veins struggling against the violence of light I...
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toward the soft constellation
I can tell you where I’m going, because I’ve been wrestling with remembrance toward the soft constellation and I scream in a loud abstraction: I aim beyond the tedium of destinations and I will tell...
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contemplative light
Sits against a white wall. Looks at the window, stares in fact. Silence is corporeal. Like a slow vapor gliding through the room. Like a heavy light falling to the floor and hardening into a...
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no memory of shine
I must convince you of the truth that I often see soften the beam of light that unites the things of thought. I must have you agree with reality which evaporates desire on skin’s petal. I ask you to...
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allness
Here in my face I feel gravity when light and darkness are only found in two eyes that brush with memory the portrait of movement what am I to do when language’s gone astray smashing against a window...
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fathom
I peek inside and sound; with a world outside pursuing the task of something beyond here. I at length delving being every thought a lake rippling with illusion. Contemporary Poetry
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