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Tag Archives: love

Domain: Unfiltered

Thoughts smoldered in her midst,

Tempered from a warmth—not just alive, but emanating,

My heart engulfed by the demon within,


No illusions can be found,

Lockets image mirrors round,

Into the pages of the furthest back,

Where every dream’s a cipher,

Unlocking the beauty that’s there to find,

Hidden deep beneath the depression

Coveting the door to love’s domain


And therein, poetry’s the universal language,

And mistletoe’s unneeded, for embrace

Comes without saying, alive and free,

Forever entered, in the perpetual state of being


There are no labels; there are no castes,

No deviations and no collapse

A world without fatigue; a world without time

Here, in this realm, where pain has long since dried


There’s no distractions, no wayward paths

Only uncountable equations of nurtured grace,

There’s no delusion; there’s no deception

Where happiness is synonymous with breathing,

Where enchanting tears flow free,

Joyful beads eclipse the cheeks,

Recycling the passion found in this place


There’s no entrapment, there’s no severance or decay

For only euphoria and blissful adoration are allowed to stay


Upon a landscape comprised of springtime melody,

Footprints are always guided home,

Where, through the fundamental premise,

Of an eternal promise declared between, within,

A cultivated reality built on trust and faith,

Within a realm so pure that only love, and never alone by dream, could ever truly attempt to make


Within A Field Of Dream

I need a dictionary of symbols

To understand just a layer of what

You reveal


It’s been so long, so very long

Since I tasted anything beyond water…

But with each gasp, of every breath you breathe to me,

I remember, I remember well,

Just how addictive sweetness can be…

And I fall asleep the victim,

To the timelessness such spells weave


When peering into your eyes,

Deep within that pond of cool

I wander aimlessly,

As those waves of blue transcend

All In life I’ve ever chose to endow…

And in this pool, all is right

Where I find myself praying,

To moon dust scattered by your lantern’s light…

Illuminating such a state,

One I’m quite sure I’ll never leave,

Where the mead’s a-ever flowing

And you’re forever etched to each my every beat


I’ve never been someone that’s good at games,

I couldn’t ever grasp the rules of simplicity

Nor had the patience for complex schemes,

But, if not for ignorance,

If that’s truly the play I’ve made,

I never would’ve had the chance to feel,

That up until now, my life’s been incomplete


Where all is right, perfection tethers to the eyes

Displaying incoherent visions

To any iris harbored safely to the port


The grass is grass. It smell’s as grass does,

It bristles as you walk and greens beneath the sun.

It is, as it is, but only when, I’m here alone with you,

In this field of dream, in such a space so present yet removed,

Not even time and its glass of hours,

Can pretend to try and scar this mood


Behind Enemy Lines

I really should be leaving,

It’s probably best I go,

Cause I can see where this is heading,

And I know myself, I know myself too well


Everything is perfect,

Ideal as far as the eyes can see,

To dwell upon the positives, is

To relive each of love’s possibilities


And before things should unravel, the way they likely will,

I best not stop in waiting; I must bid this all adieu,

I can’t risk in believing; I can’t pause until…


For once the luster’s ended, all that’s left is cruel

For once loneliness has leavened; the vivid grey their hue

Behind enemy lines,

And I’m falling fast

Behind enemy lines I crush…Oh, how

I wish this all could last



I wish it could remain,

Without the danger of the pain,

Creeping in as it likely shall

Devolving all that’s beautiful, into feelings that can kill

Into feelings that will kill inside


I know myself,

You remind me of what I once had hoped to be,

But that was a time lost so long ago

Well before the setting moved to hell

And it’s lakes and crags…each damned by life’s disease


Behind enemy lines,

And I’ve fallen fast

Behind enemy lines, I crush each and every time

When I look at you…


And despite it all, as said and how things seem… I believe

I believe this all could last…

I believe that this could last beyond the dream


And rather sacrifice tomorrow,

Rather perjure a future yet unseen,

I’ll let the tides unfurl…to shift as they may this eve


And I’ll sever clean this feeling

By believing solely in the past

And I’ll then sever clean this feeling,

Killing off…any chance there is for me


Amphetamine…An Abstract Vision of Beauty

Amphetamine—a somewhat biting beatitude.

Steel. Alloy-terrific. Condensed yet by fathoms felt.

Permeating red-blood cell count…creating the creature unmasked within.


Cortical-inductions—stirring wishes and prayer—a merging of the most relevant availability—pitted against the agility found in the fountain’s mythic password—altering dream to reacquaint oneself to the beauty of filtration—wherein, the pheromone’s response is impossible to ignore, impossible to deny—impossible, or so one would’ve once believed.


Critical neuron reaction—sensations ripping clean—pre-visceral principles clouded by deranged delusions of possibilities previously conceived to be far beyond the patterning of this subterranean, sub-atomic parceled sky.


Supplicating maximum extreme—replicating an untold

Rhythm of pre-pubescence, where the pangs of the modern day are irreverent and tucked, neatly without regret, away in folds rapt by tranquilities systemic shrouds—cloaking the devastation that corrupts the projected course of steam arraigned.


Synaptic altruism, bending mind for all time seen—radio signals bend and purge—collecting amputations of the indubitably absurd—cranking passion’s secret kiss—stolen in that instant blissful note of sun—a heist to forever be known as a grift never again to be outdone.  Summertime is upon us.  It shades the purity of the soil with a haze, a beautiful recreation of a pre-dawn primacy.


Heart races in Gemini.  Solstice conjugates the over-amplifications within the perception of an all-together random leap beyond anything the divine prepared the flesh for here or now, far or wide, colliding…supra-collision…cranking out congruent flecks of time.


Blood is flushing impurities away.  Like bile to the toxic soul…the plasma molts in spectacles and the marrow is moistened by the arrow’s quivering release.


There is not an entry in the training manual, typewritten or jotted in the margins, to account for the swings in chart experienced by the skin bound to such mortal hands.


While all the abstractions in the universe could not reveal the truth of the tremors the mind creates…one thing is true…


There is so much sweetness in a world unmet.  There is such abandon relegated to the pronunciation of the heart’s pleas.

There are vials of amphetamines awaiting their release—to course the system, to once again make it free.


The imagined moment is far too alive to be ignored.  The tumults felt are neither mine nor yours.  The sky is what the eyes will see; the clouds will always be imperceptible—unnoticed if concentrations lack forgiveness.  The fragrance of her pheromone, I believe to be…a perfection of God’s mastery…horseradish to the soul…Visine to lives not yet awakened…amphetamine to the blackest of veils…releasing the wonder of this vessel, to set adrift upon directions deep and far, along the horizon, across the triangulations lore we’ve been taught to fear…until finally reaching the land of plenty, a shore so real.


The way I see her beauty is like the most precise declaration.  It is the kind of sun that awakens the dead, if only to gleam her once before they sink into their graves again—where forever after their decay will be a time beyond well spent.


An Addled Sense of Dominion In A Conundrum of Uninspired Leaves


As Hammers are to sunsets


Is what Ravens are to Cotton Candy


What this all means, is beyond approaching,

Yet in the process of distinguishing fever from shade,

i’ve encountered a dance to which the steps ever change




I am pulled inward by your magnetic ripcord

I am entrenched by your forthcoming intentions

and often find it breathtaking, that you, would think of me …


As I fade into the oblivion of trailing comets and graveyard prophets,

I notice your shadow shifting space, dissolving the tapestries that

labor diligently, shielding me from the midnight scowl’s promiscuous trance


And yet, even as your lures cast me hollow

I find it impossible not to pray to awake,

finding my key still permits your locks

to breathe–even when the breeze has

frayed clean the last fabric from the cloak I all too often wear…


All, as you…

Steal my dissertations, replacing them with illiterate etchings unto barren walls

Eradicate my visions, leaving me blind to those who may come after

Squelch my voice, rendering me mute to future claims


and therein you offer…

the violence from a pacifist…

the strength of the meek…

a texture only felt when numb…

a shape that has grown formless through the flailing geometry…

a cynic’s sense of acceptance…


And when directionless…the lost become my compass

And when love is abandoned…the heartbroken convinces me the virtues extolled within


Soon, memories are all that flicker

and flames burn cold in winter

While I find myself positioned before this mirror….watching as history alters the future’s face



As Raindrops are to the endless sea



As many of you are well aware of, I’ve been MIA this past week. I wish I had a proper reason, but I really don’t.  I’m afraid it’s simply been a case of BLOCK.  A weird sense of block, at that.  The ideas flow quickly, yet, when I grab a pen or my handy voice app, they immediately disappear, stealing the thoughts away.  On top of this, I’ve been exhausted, just completely exhausted.  Turns out I was sick, finished the last of the antibiotics today.  But, in any case, This piece I patched together of many of the one or two lines I had managed to write down, tweaked a bit to fit together and I’m hoping, that the simple act of getting something down, will spark the creativity, the imagination, the poetry in me, which, I’ve never truly had stripped away from me for this length of continuous time.  Ok.  Just wanted to fill you all in on the state of affairs.  Hopefully soon, things will be back to normal, and I’ll pick right back up with the Haiku’s, and other short form work that it certainly does seem like many of you enjoy reading as much as I had enjoyed composing.


In syncopation

Hearts align, becoming one

Forever, always


Add two 7 syllable lines for Tanka

Rhythm is the key to life

Inhaling your true love’s breath


Love, emanating

Passion, radiating through

A merger of fate