Of A Poison Prison

How much toxin do each of us deserve, and what’s the exact lethal amount before we’ve had enough?

Crumbling civilization beginning with our neighbors, fear to love due to countless others not equaling up

Pass the poison on to next generation, now he’s not and she’s not of worth, whole ice age encompasses the earth

Single is the new testament and hallowed church, crossed legs and no eye wondering and no body growth

Tied down to the follies and offering up volleys, such anger has angel tears spilling from their tiers and goblets

Wound god until the blood flows golden, badly in need of salves of salvation that we toast in our ignorance

Champagne pyramids into rivers into streams, celebration of sentient beings of a myriad of complexities and origins

Constellations sailing the night skies rippling with an oar, of you, I and everything else woven from first the ocean

Foraging for hearts, fragile no matter the contents rattled off, can you expect expert hands when you yourself haven’t lived?

Inquisitive on how happiness is always a garden that surrounds but hardly takes up residence in you, foster lifetimes living livid

The pain paints prison bars on par with angola and caddo, guard tower eyes and barbwire smiles flourishing vivid

Prison house slids on and sparse visits, the separation beyond the skin surface feels like years in solitary no privilege

Melodies of a jailbird jilted by the rays, and now warmth is the enemy of the people in their rage they place the sun on a crucifix

Are any of us really free from this, break and try to run to the nearest freedom trying to start over with a new identity and image
©2018 loose.leaf.lover

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Upon Pens And Swords

Love is love, enveloped in velvet and warped around the sharpness of a sword
Tugged snug upon a pedestal made of onyx by a thorn of marble with inlays golden
To heal or harm unfolding, the struggle to keep it straight from serpentine curves
Words that can harness both the softness of ethereal with the fork tongue of curses

Near and dear to my heart, divinity inscribed from velveteen skies and gapped smile
Piercing what fortress fragility has built up, the hallowed light of her’s that smites all
Cloven arts composing portraits in mirrored surfaces, the duality fractures in fractals
The bronze horns, columns to a wafting halo, a hidden furnace fueling one’s mantle

The undaunted wanderer, the retro ronin in electronic wonder and digital stupors
Scars worn like patches and pins upon camo jacket, my patchwork of herculean labors
Different fragrances and flavors savored, a sabor through a medley of the unobtainable
Pen from palettes exotic, unsheathed my fangs upon clusters of neurons forevermore

On raven wings holding aloft that of an angelic being, the message she leaves in dreams
Roaming upon reams, an oasis of stardust memories and gem grain leavings upon bleak
The feeling returns after a pause in moments long, the eternal sprung and branches on
Passion’s forth in a cascade of black feathers like petals wrought, to know her many forms
©2018 loose.leaf.lover

Underneath To The Matter

A collision course, the stars in our eyes cross, the crux of a fated fall or merging worlds

And I can’t honestly tell our fortune when some of our suns have not converged enough

The wet azure not dried beyond a point in a sphere of crystal showing only snowy flux

Countless unspoken words are awaiting nebulae seeking a spark hot to expand the realm

The seemingly tiny can be haunted or blessed, roar mighty or barely a glimmering pulse

Regret or resent unsung moments atop a melody of heartbeats, the buried find no peace

The pace set at molasses drip, painfully slow with promised sweetness just out of reach

There’s no crescendo to transcend into the needed climax, only issues of feeling fleeced

How even the meek reveal the teeth of a starved beast, yet a eternal melody still beats

Freedom in the lion’s maw, find yourself up against the “thou shalt” of talons and wings

Tear down that guilded babylon beneath your nose at the enamel threshold of speech

At its break, announce it with a blare of trumpets and with the smoothness of velveteen

To form or scatter, the unborn spectrum held upon your tongue and backed by lungs

Only you are to adorn its garb by loom of your heart, where numerous threads are

Often have you modelled in thought those fabrics before shrugging them off as fanciful

Loneliness that howls at the moon’s crescent but not beyond to the star you address this
©2018 loose.leaf.lover

Rival Schools

You’re a pair of shifting scales trying to find balance with what you’ve held, compelling tipped felts, nothing is what it seems

Between the beams may as well be transitioning scenes, white, black and a sliver of silver amidst calendar daze unfolding

Voguing between prison stripped portraits, on the gram with a collage of cells hoping that no one can shed what’s in focus

Enchanting is the presence of a rose, but never forget the piercing reality which is the thorns in tow upon further grasping

Bewilderment in a wildness non-discriminant, composition covering contradiction in the eternal reoccurrences, a hero’s journey

Eros hit down until the fletching’s coated in the innards of amor’s velour, undone comes the enchantment like sinews binding

Better beneath the uncertainty of stars than the heels of others, rather the crippling depression give way to future amusement

The five rings to overstand the three of the emotional circuit, with a wave of two I can dispense in infinite shrewdness the uncouthness

No wasted movement, the concentration—zen buddhist, even a stagger here and there can be a feint in the hand swiftest to utilize it

Eye for an eye only to synchronize, everything in an instant reduced to the subatomic and between the tic’s of tic’s lies a torrent

Swaying to and fro, but the palm can explode in all directions exposing the nexus beyond the boundaries of one passage in a moment
©2018 loose.leaf.lover

Inspired by Mariela Que’s “Why Not Me”

image

“Why not me?”

A thought that sailed the autumn breeze, faring the tumultuous roar of city streets from faces forming a sea

Between their ebb and flow, my own existence was as forgettable as footprints upon shorelines at a beach

Gazes were glimpse into grains of eternity, a paradise at arm’s length that an arm’s reach couldn’t seize

I felt I was outside of time, a fallen by the wayside, maruading to get at the watchmaker’s greatest piece

I wanted into that life of sand castles in golden memories that’s shaped by that eighth sea of humanity

“Why not me?”

The question usually precedes the formation of a key, and my trials and tribulations wrought me into being

And after those long years of searching, I found it residing in the deep; self discovery led to self mastery

For every one of our twists and turns, it’s becomes clear on the journey, doors of heaven or hell are unlocking

The keyhole cinema into my chest of treasures, continues to lengthen on the reel with stories more wealthy

I am ongoing, mingling with the stories of others in crossovers, undaunted in pursuit of what makes me happy

And so “why not me” gradually went on towards being “genuinely me” without any apologies or wanting to be

©2015 loose.leaf.lover

Petrification

Live long enough and thoroughly know the underwhelming in a sunrise

That curse that turns suns into fallen and widens the voids in star-crossed eyes

The soul stirring church hymns and wedding bells; black veils and mourning wails

And no cherubs with banners red velvet could chase away the way petrification feels

The laurels that rest upon the guard of this hilt, destined to succumb to meaninglessness

When the void replaces the love, then only you can provide light for the aesthetic symmetry

Combating misery with a pen scribbling strings that invoke choirs and orchestra

Drop a needle and drag the ripples to their upmost potency, exposed the anatomy poetry

More than meets these eyes of ours, surreal feel gives chills with ideas through the birth canal

Minds worlds apart, word of mouth, the silence is deafening the more you think of it

Hydrangea bled if watercolors could fly, yesterday sits abandon on the easel underneath a tarpaulin sky

The heart of this as deep as the gravest abyss, more grief exist beyond what a canvas can fit or dye depict
©2018 loose.leaf.lover

Autumn On The Leaves

Oh, I’d love to say “I loved…”,
Condemning it all to a past tense
I’ll write off a couple of doves
In therapeutic shrugs of brief passions

Fall away memories in a purge,
Incinerated by light lime in projection
Everything that is incinerated
Is felt pain in cinematic expulsion

My scribbles abound form portraits,
Poetic lines that drew lovers as corpses
Promenade now my tainted parade,
Trample everything seemingly wholesome

Like memes photoshopped in responses,
Were too words to me in future proposal
Past happy imagery I know now hoaxes,
Let it all just wither away in blissful closure
©2013 loose.leaf.lover

Judgement

Overarching theme, the black hand sewing the seams from yesterday into today’s very scene and potential tomorrow’s museum
Cross-stitch the interweaved, living breathing human being, a delicate balance between spiritual and material both empyream
Mental alchemy managing a inkwell into a cauldron into night time skies, with golden moments woven throughout—accented garlands
Shining monarch from triple darkness, still arm in arm with my crush, the yin and yang of the marriage between pestle and mortar

Hard to try and dodge what’s mortal, comprised to prize the utmost corporal, body over mind over mines explosive
Lotuses to our lips and we dine, erase all the pain from the things unkind undertook in the Odyssey of our lives
Nothing to lose but our binds, but everything close to the star is on a string dangling close to the flame on waxen wings
Our worlds desire to run free, but in the blackness of the unending the flux becomes the rhythm to our starry streak

The rising and the fall at the peak, endurance we’ll go onwards without sleep, grinded down to dust in our sneaks
Mystery to me when you’re buried in a hole where worms surely feast, coins on those eyes pay attention to the irony
Divine comedy, constant rinse and repeat, life to new substances underneath these sheets in mad throes of disbelief
Disillusioned finally at the rip and the tear, no longer want to compete when the concrete isn’t at all what it seems

We dance through the beams, madly lapping at the cupped hand in unison over asphalt while a sack burlap clings
Too close to the end of this precipice to even breathe, sense of euphoria with every step on the brink while on cracks in the street
The laughter outpouring over possibilities, the great futility constantly shuffling the masks about the intertwining of threads
The need for a peace brought on by an upwards breeze from the base to the summit, the further you tread the more intense the breaths
©2018 loose.leaf.lover

I Know You So Well…




These worlds set adrift amidst this neatness of curving blues

Underneath surgical precision, a vision splashes and ripples pool

The footage comes shining through, I’m rewinding the loose

The fibers of my flesh rewoven back together to a time of youth

The fountain I produce rivals mountains of montblanc used

 

Ocean, rivers, streams between the valley and stellar peaks

My soul has arisen astral being, mingling between moon beams

Steadily shifting through the scenes, uncoupling the veil’s seam

Can you see the irritants are lost amidst the iridescent layerings?

 

Daylight caresses, squinting holding dreams trying to pull reality

Calamity in the collision, behold the pearls that rain endlessly

Inevitability like schisms in our image, the ideal me and real me

But they struggle and strain within this vial; fragile vessel—a hell

Who’s looking deep, a sheet or shred of tissue all housing my DNA

 

Littering the hurt landscape with soft drapes, but the stars infest

I know at any minute I could wake, stare through and it’ll all be fake

Shake me to my senses, rid the night anthropomorphic of my embrace

I bring light even when they’d prefer the darkness and a easy life to take

©2017 loose.leaf.lover

Waves

Deep in the sheets with fleeting moments, splash, my intimacy breeds intricacies in infinity’s ocean
A diver of lost items, gospel reveries are hymns coated tahitian chocolate, I’m a seeking of wisdom from her
Milf of all milf’s volumes this, weaver of constellations into conversations, galaxies fitted anatomically
Bringing light from that very tunnel, freeze flash the frame dying patek patik every minute, hour til eternal
Long silhouettes dance at the tip of my pen form the internal, marionettes at my mind merrily surfing vinyl
Love lost pondering the visceral of silver artisans, the line loops Shiva at its centre with embers glowing

Put a twist on it, ouroboros the bellows’ flame, serpentine drawn from the sheath—a flesh and bone being
The message enveloped now finds a screen, the streams and screams of realizing the mission was achieved
Your reality was cleaved, the stars now bleed, no longer star-spangled but marred and mangled heaved
Birth of a nation, murky the waters, vanilla skies for every moment moving forwards upon earthen surface
In a coffee cup reading “I need space”, the enamel gold rimmed adorns the adored, for you forevermore

A struggle in chains, brow’s anointed in cosmic waves, my double helices composing a symphony of it
Mental alchemy formulated in cumulus clouds, my halo farming accented by branching magnolias golden
Transcribe the transcendent vibe from a lotus out the gulf, no incense burning but third eye showing
Born in squalor but feeling untouchable, the fruit of the strange fruit that’s more coveted than godiva
Beautiful, sacred and heavily draped in diamonds, my muse wears world in her eyes and sunshine as a gown
©2018 loose.leaf.lover