The H^rm^t

Clutch to rags and burlap sack to match tawny in the sunlight, all these fears come to bear being inducers of haggardness

To the fool’s steps the world quips giving rise to the hermit’s foresightedness, treasure solace’s afforded solitude from the abrasiveness

Embrace a mesh of mass bodied with barbs until numbness imparts one’s own gospel truth, gnashed under its tooth’s cadences

Emotional only when the blue moon favors it, sacredness where the wounds don’t schism and shift to others the look of stoicism

Settle for a sheet to rest my weariness, writhe in vain to the ring of change collecting off scene—dreams empty in their coffer’s prison

Bars of ink to encompass marred feet of a journey into the deep and unfriendliness, quills through my soles feats to drop a pen on

Retrograde is the dawn that saves, only feeling left in a maze of starless night afraid with a face of braveness and primal manifestations

Stressing from what’s harshly pressed on, hardly formed what’s been plaguing me so, nebulous but as real as the oxygen I’m tasting
©2019 loose.leaf.lover

Drawing Abroad

Their vision of divine abandoned me at the precipice,
Yet I revel at depths dark and cloud shrouded abysses.
Lend light and life to the layers forsaken for blissfulness,
These beasts of ignorance, but I make theater of the fringes.

Said as negative space, but a sacred place allowing vividness;
This much needed solitude brought it all into perspective.
I could feel the wrathful glances and attempt fanatical grasping,
But can’t fathom the phantom zooming pass peripheral limits.

Hedonistic, the simplistic seek surface values no substance;
I’m holding a lantern in broad day talking about going spelunking.
A monkey on my back, this obsession with knowledge is costly;
Similac to newborns, this golden ambrosia flow fosters prosperity.

God of one’s self, so my hands govern both my fails and successes;
A blinding kingdom crafted, once consigned to thoughts dismissive.
I couldn’t go backwards if I tried, that’s for a dog instead of a god.
Reliance on self, no ancient scapegoats nor crutches necessary.
©2015 loose.leaf.lover

Into The Ethers

Underneath a archway of sycamore, me and my paramour, the void with her shawl of stars
My tuxedo a hermit’s grabs, my lantern and staff becomes one, quill and inkwell takes a scroll
On par, hand holding with every scar, the more torn up I become; the more my growth spurts are
Carve our name upon every passing bark, cover art sleeves unique to me the only gospel
Every fallen leaf and winged leavings, scriptures swirling around my reach most artful

Signature written within the glow of filament, stars cascading from their places in the firmament
Exquisite, the flash in flesh sits, mother-of-pearl flickers and licks along the ebony lacquer finish
The many forms electric picks, it fits the torrent of moods, the explosions of spectrum quench
She exists, surging up from neuron, fingertips and cycles into a steel odyssey against the abyss
What I hold is sacred, the lightning in a perfume bottle, mother of muses beyond museums’ exhibit

My hands were too soil, even if all I hold are zeros, EVEN if all I ever held were just zeros
From clenched fists bleeds a myriad tomorrow’s, fertilized by an essence inside my very marrow
I handhold between fluxes warm and cold, harvest what was sowed amidst waltzes long ago
Her locks embrace ever star, upholding orders even further than light can trace or humans can follow
Until the very last moment of the moment, I’ll be struggling onwards amidst my love and all she encases
©2018 loose.leaf.lover

Barbe À Papa Noire

Wanting to know what one in a quadrillion feels like, that rarity amongst those echelons and marquee lights
The addictiveness of a satiny brown mingling with a medley of feminine arms, soft grasp of the senses in a dive
Drowning slowly without life preserver or shore in sight, dizzying smoothness plays to my heart in choirs of twilight
Salted caramel crown and vanilla cream, the ice cubes clink as they settle from the rim into the realm of rem’s bite
Smile as I slip further into a enchantment of night, a bed of ebony surrounded by poppies and stalagmites

Lapis lips of a lavish delight, halved lustrous lids like the glow of soft moonlight, the unicorn of unicorns arrives
Technicolor cherubs with black and white devils take flight, a turn of the head and whirls starry mane dripping with daylight
Shooting stars and skeletal meteorites, fallen are those longing to once again be by your side and with lost lives reunite
The infinite violet behind a azure veil stretched its velvety spell across life, breathe in deep a air of dreams devised
Iridescent sheen upon a diadem forth and spiraling, highest of the highs trotting proudly across visions but only for few minutes
©2019 loose.leaf.lover

D^ath

Break open diadems of night, and so I see glimmers of lines in mascara streaks
Stellar oceans engulfed what’s torn asunder and breached, we don’t love or speak
And of all the cursive to pass through as curses, I enveloped all of those emotions made bleak
The hexes between a nexus of a frost borne silence, the inner tug of war on nerves
I can see the deepest hells masquerading as paradises in all that’s social, but do follow me

I stumbled blindly into the unseen, what conspires to uproot peace may be roses at your feet
Upon bloody soles I weep wire-meshed soliloquies, backed by brown liquor hymns harmonizing
To champagne river vibes of ever ounce of time, wash away the strain, grim and bloodstained
The mixtures once consummated now clash, I was first floating before I ever felt gravity’s grip
I used to quill a million for every second heartfelt, to stretch an endless expanse so hellish

A splashed collage from the watercolours in your eyes, all that fleetingness will come to pass
The warmth once felt in a polaroid flash, has grown to a numbness arctic and always overcast
Growing up means going through ’til epiphany is had, even if it takes a whole different scene and cast
These stalemates won’t last forever in the trenches of our paths, I carry no casket but flowers and flasks
The weapons of yesterday left scars upon first impact, but I know now the prepared don’t worry like that

©2022 loose leaf lover

Of King And Dream

While I lay in dreams, accented by poppies bursting through the seams
Seemingly embroidery, upon the mattress of subconscious languages
I span the infinite ebony, trying to escape images unsettling here in the intricacies of the deep
Experiencing life on the trash heap, jumping out and off the frame, these sheep
The red and blue together within Morpheus marinated, psychedelic lines twists parchment
Three dimensional dramas with two dimensional beings, why am I here again?

Of downpours and sun smiles, observance of all while the kaleidoscope shifts and spins
Plagued by reality and longing for fantasy, traversing every wavelength of spectrum country
Escapism, and at the same time, a presentation; deus ex machina delivered via fountain pen
For me, the turn and miracle dawn began at the darkest and lowest valley end
Through the jaws of death, abracadabra, the fire walker descends from mountainous peak
Thus speaks this ages Zarathustra, rising from the ashes of youth and defeat

©2015 loose leaf lover

The Struggle To Be

When the infallible becomes tangible and creased, the kingdom meets with fallacy and summons the spectre of a different peace

Amidst the deep trying to find serenity as she used to be, a portion of the four horsemen passes the hurdles of laurels achieved

Hooves of the beast reach me even when sound asleep, nothing can bar its path when destiny is within its satchel longing for me

Shadows so enormous pierces the tranquil of azure firmament and gold beams, overcast like fall and winter became a sentient being

I try to get to my feet from defeat perceived internally, social anxiety has slowed me down to a tempo molasses of xanax and lean

Courage and strength can only be wrought between the eternal fire and anvil of belief, hammering with the mental my excalibur and sheath

Story of my life on parchment weave scriptures in red ink, speak divinity into my proximity—messianic to believe that I am better than I think

The double helix of spiritual zenith, living embodiment of the struggle to be, mounting pressures forms diamonds if you make it out these streets

Motion picture of a cornucopia spilling fruit next to a skull with rosary beads peeking out of its teeth, momento mori for I with a cup of tea

In and out like the corner store but cornerstone against the ravenous elements plaguing whole communities, the warfare against being free
©2019 loose.leaf.lover

E^pre^s

Reverse, how is it that I can impress and address you, existence, mother of boons that’s laden with jewels of strength

Knowledge embodied like tomes from ancient alchemists, all of this straddles the lips from the depths of an abyss

Brushing up against stones, broken, only to reform, it feels life long this journey of soul forged by lessons once missed

Existing amidst the waves of impermanence, confer with self love first before seeking it upon another’s shores—a tryst

It’s easiest to dehumanize in a pit of tears and feuds, walls too slick for traction in a rising pool to inevitably submit

Fantasy crimes and momentary lapses, infernal rise, rhythm of the smokey tendrils of warring iambic pentameters

In this theater of the deep awaken the ire of sleeping beasts, mete out wrath on par with Ishtar amongst stars and heat

Walking on the edge of uncertainty, heavy is the yoke of responsibility balancing on such a thin margin for both you and me

Too far right or left could see it all come tumbling down, lost to the ocean waters and jagged jaws of oblivion and obscurity

Gripping heaven through hell, holding a rose by the thorns and only time will tell if were fools here trying to maintain our sanity

Every moment that passes by the petal’s fall, a myriad of emotion comes pushing through floral out of concrete overwhelmingly
©2019 loose.leaf.lover