Monthly Archives: December 2014

Poems that will get me killed (2015, Issue 1)

I wrote to her sacrilege Toasted haram She, an idol among dregs I, a totem in her palm Love lifts on rose scent leaving petals to quiver all between us once, rent, only kindling to give her Hence, I turn to death which best knows life and set fire to my nest … Continue reading

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Pulsing Inkwell

Love’s letters clatter in currents Winds curl to stillness, in a talus of potpourri, Season totem, a cluster of hope, waiting For one match pulled and struck, To scare the ghosts from the pyre. In a choke of smoke from … Continue reading

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We Knew Too Much

We knew too much to continue our lives and into the darkness we fell A poem was written, we reviewed it, but realized we already knew of the downfall of men so why continue the poem, but it was beyond … Continue reading

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Humble in Our Sound

Humans should be humbled by the miraculous gift of song. We are guided by nature to compose, but oft’ led by our egos to recite. Let us be humble in our sound, for that is truly when friendship, love, and beauty … Continue reading

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I Followed a Writer Up a Tree

I followed a writer up a prodigious tree Every leaf I brushed, his poem. From the crown I scanned the pastoral a poetic landscape in repose, A resplendent chorus of Glistening verdant wisdom. O’ vast vibrato of sibilance slipping the … Continue reading

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Nuances Matter: Poetry is a Mistress

The subtlety of sultry does not hide well among the obvious! We catch each others meter across the crowded parlor and steal off to the wings for sodden romantic whispers. Her muted presence is a cloud born particle of dust – … Continue reading

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Sibilant Skin

When still, the world turns around the axis of my heart. From the dark within, lemniscates of a lantern light tie ribbons in my eyes; will you know me then? And when I die, a steady sibilant wind of myrrh … Continue reading

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Everything

Everything we see is it’s pristine essence casting the same light from the womb of darkness. Gripped by the dolor of a glaucous sky, love’s longing reminds us that nothing is ever truly lost to anything less than the visual … Continue reading

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A Fair Curve in a Slow Current

My death is a lengthening, eastern shadow creeping. As the sun sets on a westerly life fountain coins, falling, deepening. Throw away nothing of a poets reaping recollection, Glowing golden within the chaff, darkened wheat in separation. He plays to … Continue reading

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The Garden Road

Nourished by love for the unseen within, when seen by a heart, shimmers, sans end. Swells the bud a flame before bloom, sans thorn, sans pain sans sojourner’s wound. The wilting, the dying, the falling to earth, the paradox wrapped in a gift … Continue reading

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