Joy At A Stand Still

Ballet in the sky to ballads of you and I, whirls of stars and worlds emerge from nebulous clouds interlocking in cursive letters where words arise

Serenade in the vibes and hues of love’s composure to the beat of a new dawn on the horizon, this little light of mind is fresh off divine

Holding a torch, a lighter to a stogie, my passion from the heart forever burning like tradition chanting mantras around lit incense in shrines

Brittany Howard on the highs with no shakes in sight, I delight in those eyes like the sun blooming from cloud covers of this harvest of ours

This isn’t meant to be filmsy and finite the love we share, with every fiber of being I repair, refurbish and continue to declare undying

To the very standstill of time, slow dancing with eternity flash frozen in diamond, laid to rest in mother of pearl and sterling for a locket

I want it all, the glistening ebony firmament wrapped up in a shifting shawl between cerulean and starlight—a life more than chocolate

To my sweetest confection my confession like icing addressing the addressee on her birthday but on everyday underneath candlelight

Illuminated message, “may you forever want this too”, drifting across the void in marquee lights to the amazement of all in sight begin to recite

It is what is and nothing less than, existence in its entirety woven into vows and bleed upon—for everything said I meant to be recognized

©2019 loose.leaf.lover

Ides of June

Inspired by the artwork of Harmony Rosales

Locusts to the fruits of a fertile soil, the gleam of eye to glean what green flourishes before greed results to deeds unspeakable

Blood on the leaves and breeze from the site of the turmoil, they’ll relish as they ravish every vestige and seedling with every wing fall

Natural selection some’ll call the fate of those which we observe, just so we of greater wisdom can absolve for being complacent in it all

Feelings of hopelessness and helplessness are arm in arm going down the aisle; save a life to deny death its prey upon the chapel bells toll

Only to snuff out the same life over our own prejudices tale, leaving wounds that can’t become scars for long ago has yet to be resolved

I can’t tell if it’s a marriage or a funeral, everyday sees me in black like a modern day johnny cash but I’ll embrace it all with roses in palm

One drop of blood trickles off the thorns and rolls down to the lips of the torn, I’m here feeding all that toils underneath in a hell of its own

Let he who is without sin cast the first stone while the rest us attempting to build one of many roads, with a flower bed along its curve

Committing it all in verse a work of scroll around masonry of thought, flowery weaved sweet with a tartness belying life’s natural course

Testimonials are ceremonial; roads our altars to the understanding of one another, even if we should destroy just to build them once more
©2020 loose.leaf.lover

A Blossom From Igoni

Here goes the turbulence of another patch shaky, the grasp of indifference mangles and holds so tightly to azure that it ruins a sunny day

The message’ll fall leaded upon my head steadily, inscribed with verses a nexus to long ago curses karmic my paramour of inching fate

My eyes passionately transfixed to a heaven that’ll never be, celestial mist of intoxicating dreamscapes through valley up to zenith’s face

If you manage, string together a wreath made up of flowers that I received before my life ebbed, drift it gently down streams tears make

To the hoove falls of death trotting along breaking up dawn’s gold leaf, cloaked in a grim aura like charcoal across strathmore for art’s sake

A allure for eden while gathering up bouquets, suddenly sullied by the mucking of a jeweled snake—poison dripping from jaws gapped

The trickle too will seem a gift you can take, a intoxicating exiler that’ll slowly erode veins turning sunlight into a abyss of dark space

The collapse of the world came upon with such a softness that you’d confuse death with being kiss by a garden blooming in spring’s grace

I can’t think beyond her veneer and content, like a fool to my heart I’ve endeared her like the peddlings of a snake oils men to a willing patsy

I can’t see when I’m so close to a light that blossoms life, like a moth to a flame I am to her cheerful beckons and my condemning conscience
©2020 loose.leaf.lover

Red Devil

In a room full of
fun house mirrors,
lost and in pain,
every reflection
shown laughter
in a malicious way

Look my way
and say my name

Their intentions
seem vague,
fog creeps in
a neon haze
and I’m dazed—
a landscape
changed,
a city labyrinth
constantly
shifting gaze

And it is
when I’m here
that I need you near,
a gentle hand
breaching the
surface water
above my head
all in aid

Look my way
and say my name

The rhythm’s off,
and the course
blurs and grows soft,
walking on
velveteen clouds
amidst
technicolor skies
medicated

Hallowed is
the feeling
that I’ve come
to find after
each ripple has
found me
hollowed out,
echo chamber
myriad thoughts
none being sacred
©2019 loose.leaf.lover

Echo Far Longer

As this nebulous retreats from my eyes, this night of no stars leaves my side

The sunshine through these blinds, like being pulled from the womb into light

Born again in the now, yet purpose can wait ’til I’m fully appreciative of the sound

You have no idea how alone I felt nor the intensity of cold that goes unknown

The depths of an abyss in which I can never truly fathom, which language lengths can not run

I’ve tried to capture into what I stared, but over time you feel its presence unbound

You spoke so elegantly of nothingness as if it were some pop culture phenomenon

The sanctity of coming undone should not be taken with the same seriousness as most have done

These scars on my flesh like scripture on breathing parchment, I am the unsung now in motion

I am yet another survivor going on about my life with the hunger of a child’s wonder

I know this existence is a lightning bolt’s strike, but may my thunder echo far longer

©2016 loose.leaf.lover

In The Shadows Of Heaven Frozen In Place

The mystery and wonder, now replaced by messy hearts made of thunder.

Echos out of sync, so somber, I fear indeed dissonance has won us over.

Heavenly beauty ripped asunder, rendered unlovable by a void’s growing plunder.

I couldn’t avoid going under, for follies of naive romanticism help me sink further.

A cautionary tale lurks behind that tra-la-la’s veil; for a lover’s rebel, choirs sing of Lucifer.

True love is blasphemy, for I held REAL faith in those three words uttered to me.

Now, I fear I’m condemned for all eternity, all over that four letter serenade.

Cherubim anarchy, orchestrated by Cupid’s fiddlings with bow and arrow play.

Dance little marionette, ’til the siege lead within, severs heartstrings and pauses you in place.

Fallen from grace, you’ll become just another e-motionless figure with a pretty face.

©2013 loose.leaf.lover

Journey

Saying “I love you” with hope and fingers crossed, double crossed now we’re at a crossroads with you on the primrose

Send the whole stars tumbling, shoot out the lights so yours is the only one in the dark, greet fire with a row of diamonds and gold

Never promised a happy ever after nor a wedding chapel, written in stone only to have it thrown like tablets from heaven above

A silver tongue birth by the shimmers from lucifer’s fall, talk in such a way that it makes love to the very air inhaled into a pair of lungs

Now here you are thinking you hit the lottery, when all you’ve won yourself is a bunch of bastards littering and loitering

Just another winding road, a bridge and its troll, never know the dip nor the toll you’re bound to pay in the name of journey

Well, I’m not asking for a hand to hold before the specter of a skull and crossbones, every rose has its thorns even at a grave that’s cold

Even when faced with nowhere but dark, I’ll learn to love that part even if it seems nonsensical to those swooning for a candle’s glow

Learning to pivot and adjust atop stones to incoming blows while arms become an extension of eternity knotted yet flowing

My ears pierces through to the minute echos of precious mantle and falls of cloven hooves beating against enamel roads

Still no matter the lot, my fortune blooms like the branching dawn upon the horizon’s arch—gleam of a wavy hamon
©2019 loose.leaf.lover

The Troubles Of Being Human

• 

What furnace furnishes the preciousness of warmth that promote healing within its touch, the sharpness of a talons clutch but yet with softness of a lamb’s part?
From the wilderness of man where goes the drums of war, the sounds of terra in terror rubbed red and raw, the scars and trauma that stars and stripes sought
You would want with a gentle hand but get nothing but a gnawing and a bloodied nub as a reward, our love treasures deep schisms and scars upon you and us
You want a poem to take you away from the turbulence and torrents of a sudden downpour, well this is a festering sore not acknowledged so nothing goes or dulls
As fresh and keen as if yesterday’s freshly cut roses suddenly went from mourning to morning blooms soar, dawning in hexagonal azure and gold gleams like a smiling sun

This corpse to you is a utter rot and a blight upon the artificial sod, but just as vivid to us this spectral plagues the spectrum with little to no thought—only want
No matter how intelligible the causes in potent cursive crossing over into font, they still demand as though they were sole heirs and the rest just worms here in dirt
I meet the love fair with equal mete of blood scarce, the oaths pledged with fingers pricked in solemn promises to each other’s eternal wonder may it never be deterred
If you call me brother may the day never come to where it’s said in jest, where the deception hisses and coils behind blossoms in wait, the serpent handshakes in curses
I wade now through coursings of black ink poisoned, hearing the hauntings of old conversations being had in rorschach’s metamorphic landscape I word

This world whirls in a sea of clouds that produces from berated thought, in swords escaping folds of greycale where electricals dance the neurons over
I just want them to see the trouble further down the roads less traveled on, the domino effect beyond this dominioned oyster clutching on to horded pearls
And although we, at times, may stare upwards to what looks like night underwater, we do not share the same reality or ivory to hold back the current motion
This is definitely not to put you at peace or to bring about dreamscape focus, I’m in the trenches of chains between the bends and cranes of suffering onwards
The shouts and shots are not childlike nor do they hold your ideas of civil courses, this is loosening the tie and carrying a big stick amidst flesh and blood softness

The troubles of being…………human

©2021 loose.leaf.lover

Broken Through

• 

The ever present sound of fractures fractal in the glass work of fragile emotions flesh bound, painting impressions at the pace of pen strokes that resound
In a fresco of blood, sweat and tears to transcend the area and color codes accented in primrose, the low blows from a heavy yolk divinity bestowed
The hopelessness that’ll show when the weight of the world has pens you down before the might of it’s lengthy maw, piercing sinew and shoulder muscle
The last thing we wish is this bejeweled ambrosia of wealth when being chewed upon, I’d rather a healing elixir that goes beyond ornate alabaster halls
The kneeling know the heavenly oath woven into streams of light shown, the gleaming gold’s of Peter Paul drove behind the mask with ulterior goals

The stigma of thorns just from the sight of a rose bud blossoming before your eyes, reliving the piercing of a smile as cold as the crescent sailing night skies
My autumn heart camouflaged behind this brilliancy of rose gold inscribed in baroque scrollwork for a opus of mind, the troubled jewels that grew from truth’s rise
Cultivating a garden in scars I semi-hide, lining moleskin with these shea butter hymns and hexes in tahitian chocolate reflections the wisdom pearl the world supplies
Relishing in the trauma of a few past lives, clouds the mind more than a miasmal loud and the thunder of a thought arise before the parting of thighs a gateway for another’s try
So entrenched we divide, the cell within cells we’ve come to find was something we couldn’t define, how four walls had nothing on the barriers erected over a lifetime

The bitter brokenness of serpents that’ll stalk every celebratorial vine, the trauma begets trauma and so poisons the spirit to nature the cold
The shadowy and slithering that coil long around our collective souls, the embers of hellfire glimmers on our soles amidst a shuffle across brimstone
Rather broken bones than a heart that’s increasingly tangled up in barbs from long ago, pouring gospel salt into a rawness won’t help this healing grow
I’ve heard them say before that absence’ll make the heart grow fonder, but all we has is this deafening sound of a abyss taking over the sun’s rise and fall
You called me Sol but the truth is you’ve been amongst those rays along my journey’s turns, the gentle pastures soothing with the tunes of a larynx’s lyre tone

©2021 loose.leaf.lover

Tempus Fugit

And I look back over fleeting golden grains of memory, watching it all shift then fall away like stars streaking violently before their ending

That path in which fondness was I can hardly now revisit, the further a distance the more vagueness invades pages of my existence

Music plays with melodies of age stoking flames with a “ribbon in the sky”, but a wonder before my eyes of milky way amidst the infinite

A river forms my eyes, they pour libations for kinsmen who have died, secrecy for long lived pride—breaking of my tribe I’m witnessing

Will angels in such softness flock underneath warm halos that’ll dry what pools from demise, birth the coming of yet another sunrise?

Place a lantern upon a current for firmament from the shores, hopefully what has been backed by fleets of yore can make a return voyage

The most heavenly choir to ever perform is when I can actually recall the chords from vocals that aren’t audio records in my smartphone

The message hits you different especially within the aftermath you’ve reached your limit, wringing ichor from the veins to express pain as artful

Filter it through these pages on something so basic, hopefully the feeling can fill these matrix’s ranges— transcend even if its stillness, find it devotional

This waxing and waning baring on the emotional, sifting further through the ichor to refine it to this imperfect diamond slew

Iridescence jewel,a shifting prismic labyrinth with brilliance coming from within, sometimes lost amongst its ambient hue

Hoping that crowns will be fully in bloom, we lose a few to stressing and straining within the confines of their detainment view

Arrangements like that of floral beauty a painful sum comes due, fading and wilting the ornate shall perish along the vine—misconstrued

The inevitable weathered it down to forgettable, ozymandias upon media of the modern just another fossil worthless towards future moves
©2019 loose.leaf.lover