A Poem Thread

Leave Krete and come to this holy temple
where the graceful grove of apple trees
circles an altar smoking with frankincense

Here roses leave shadows on the ground
and cold springs bubble through apple branches
where shuddering leaves pour down profound
sleep

In our meadows where horses graze
and wild flowers of spring blossom,
anise shoots fill the air with aroma.

And here, Queen Aphrodite, pour
heavenly nectar into golden cups
and fill them gracefully with sudden
joy.

(((Sappho))
 

As it was, as it is, as it may... part 2


As I weave through the city lights
I drown in the silence of empty streets,
carefully sowing even the drive to perfection
The goal is new,
the path well travelled
but the eventual swin, oh so different!
shhhhhhhhhhhhh
enjoy, enjoy, enjoy
in the sweet nectar of fate.

Today is the fruition of a lengthy courting:
I've sacrificed endless nights,
shared in the intricacies of mind,
wallowed in the gifts of my honeyed tongue,
watered that nuisance of a seed,
carefully cared for every wasted leaf.
Yes, tonight is the harvest
Waiting over!
shhhhhhhhhhhhhh
enjoy, enjoy, enjoy
in the wind's wistful feel.

Tick tock tick tock tick tick tick...
shhhhhhhhhhhhhh
enjoy, enjoy, enjoy
in the suddeness of a fated conquer.
Shake in your shoes blond devil of times past.

knock.
kock, knock, knock...
I soak in a last breath on a cooling night--
a time tested rockening.

"Well woman, you look beautiful"
Smile to belie even the snaked haired beast's stare.
"So do you"
Yawn,,,game on!


...to be continued
 
My love and I walk the dawn's beach,
content to test our trials
against her cries
on man's defamed bleach.
Failing, we all embrace
in a shared disgrace:
man in love, nature in hurt, man in nature.
 
Dear Frank,


I Got Your LetTer
I'm FeelIng BetTer

ToDay I NeedEd YesTerDay
YesTerDay I Went Out To Play

But, When It Was, Time To Be ToDay
I, Just Would Not, Let It Get AWay

Until Six-O-Clock I Flipped And Flopped
I Jerked It Worked It FiNAlLy Stopped

So...
Then...
Today I was way too tired...

SorRy! I'm Back. Thanks For WaitIng
Thanks For ComMing Thanks For PlayIng

The Birds And The Nutts - And That PurPle FeaTher
You Brought Up AnYThing - Except The WeaTher

Mom?
Did I here right?
Did Dad get fired?

I Have To Go
I'll Let You Know

Love,
Frank
 
reality will greet you
with a pepper spray
on the way to hell.

it will find your
secret place
hidden deep inside.

it will find you
rolling in your grave
half naked, half dead.

buy a prayer
and make it sound like
a nice denial of faith,

piss them off
the angels and their gods -
reality reborn in flesh, your face.

---
© 2004 by Avatar
 
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Brown eyes,
soft thighs.
Full lips,
rounded hips.
Sassy talk,
sexy walk.
Smooth skin,
like cinnamin.

I pass by,
catch his eye.
He kick game,
ask my name.
Set a date,
go out late.
He look fly;
so do I.

Sugar Shack,
dressed in black.
On the town,
we gets down.
Watch him move,
he sooo smoove.
All night long,
we love strong.

From my eyes
to my thighs
and my lips
to my hips,
smooth skin
like cinnamin;
smooth skin-
like cinnamin.

© 2002 C. Highsmith-Hooks
 
The doctors are extinct,
the doctors are mistaken,
they're extinct!

I've got my shaman
and he says:
they're fake!

So whenever I get sick
I call the hospital
and ask if my shaman's around!

It's an asylum dream
to think that doctors
are real!

---
© 2004 by Avatar
 
Black within
in black leather
black sin,
white skin.

A knife is kissing in dark
and teasing
red lips.

The devil sits
on a grave,
plays a guitar
and sings of sex;
the witches dance.

A corpse's arm
stretches from the ground
holding a glass of wine.

A toast to life
a toast to
endless night.
---
© 2004 by Avatar
 
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bleeding minds scream with laughter, what do we hear that isnt of the scent of innocence?
love lost and time forgotten, i woke up this morning to the breath of trespass, and the sight of insanity.
i saw devilish shadows on my wall, flickering flames cutting through the incense of sex.
in my orgy, in my act of defiance, i find my sister dead, and bleeding.
a beautiful figure, ebony rosewood, like god in wood in woman, cast so delicately on a bed of white wool.
the face framed with pain, surely the ideal way to die! a little trickle of blood from her thighs.
the rotting odour of decay corrupts the room, a swathe cutting through the air of peace.
to die in pain, what a gift in this soulful world of ours, writhing in the hideous orgasm of it's own sentimentality.
i did her a favour, i gave her pleasure then death. am i not truly god? am i not truly divine?
taking life is not pleasure, not duty, but a favour, a gift. my sister knew that, yet resisted when i gave her my greatest gift of all.
her life bled away, little by little, drop by drop, each passing moment bringing her closer to divinity.

i lie there, naked and ecstatic, proud of my strength, passionate about my exhaustion.
stooping, naked and tired, i look over my sister once more.
perfect, beautiful, now truly divine. waiting for me in the beyond.
faces of women circle me, bringing memory on a bier,
how generous i have been, giving greatness in death and pleasure in death to so many.
in this hollow, cheap world of ours, how beautiful is a death framed by the mutiny of pain!
pain is the beginning.
what riches await me!
 
Love

Love sets your heart on fire.
Leeching all you have;Vampire.
Curled toes, mind in bliss,
Falling down an empty abyss.
Lovers' promises in their eyes,
"Nothing will set us apart,"
Then demise.
 
Stolen Pearl

Little dove sang, The monster wanted.
please don't touch me.
He constricted little Dove in his claws.
please don't touch me.
Plucking feather by feather, and ripping out wings.
please don't touch me.
Dove's pearl was foresaken. Dove's pearl was taken.
The Monster replaced her pride with a shard of ice,
And left her lying like shattered glass.
Bloody feathers are vile and dirty. Unclean.
Will Little Dove sing again?
 
Ты очень злая власть
Под крылом ангела
Мой старый генерал,
я умоляю, спаси

Патроны кончились
И наступает ночь
В этой тёмной стране

Была жизнь, есть смерть
Но и после полуночи
Нет покоя в крови

Мой старый генерал,
Я вижу, ты жив,
И даже в этой темноте
Твои глаза как кинжал на солнце блестят

Какой секрет ты украл от врага
Какие карты у смерти в руках,
Мой старый генерал

---
© 2004 by Avatar
 
I dance
in trance
for roses.

Not you
or us,
but roses.

I mourn
in pain
for roses.

Say farwell
to you
through roses.

---
© 2004 by Avatar
 
I posted this in another section for a reason, but it seems most appropriate here.

What am I?

I move unfeeling, through the crowd.
I stand insensitive, indifferent
So many things of which I’m not,
So tell me, what am I?

You tell me I’m not worthy.
You tell me I’m not good enough.
You tell me I’m not laudable,
So tell me, what am I?

I proclaim, “These things I’m not!”
I say, “These things are not of me!”
Then silenced after declaration, Whisper,
So tell me, what am I?

I only know now, what I’m not.
The things I’m not supposed to be.
The things you assume, I’ll never be,
But you still haven’t told me.

I do not need your sympathy,
Your loyalty, your trust.
Certainly not your approval,
There is one thing you mean to me.
So tell me, what am I?
 
breathe.

what’s wrong with me?
have I been damned?
or have I changed
the way
my senses notify of their constant presence?..
have I grown older?
or is it just
the wisdom
stabbing mind, dictating rules to analyze existence?

what’s wrong with them??they still endure,
unveiling same old hope.
but I am numb to their fuss.
they talk,
creating minor conversations.
but I am deaf and dumb.

than what is left
for me?
can I go on?
and
how can I persist?..
the only answer heard
is:
“breathe”...

-January 20 2002
(r) devo
 
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-cataclysm

I feel destruction’s decomposing me,
Cannot relate my parts.
Creator-fingers rest in peace,
Reminding of abandoned inspiration.
Pathetic limbs unveil no vigor.
Once blissful face reflects
Grey autumn sky above deserted head.
My silent guts now warship hunger,
Grief raves inside the terrible remains.
Poor wrecked heart has stopped
Its endless hell-like-run,
And blood has turned into the wine.
I am personified in neuron
That was convicted to subsist
Bugging exhausted memory with call:
“Your girl is gone,
Assemble parts and live!”
Deaf soul remains untouched,
The future’s locked inside my frozen lips.
Sisyphus-neuron’s pulsing,
It’s cataclysm.


-September 3, 2002
(r) devo
 
-Ridicule

Created to love, humanity unveils disgust,
Struggling for heaven, commits disgrace.
Whole history is flooded with erosion.
There is no willingness to pray.
My poor children, if only worshiping could help!
How naïve is the belief in all deliverance to come.
The only way to save your humble souls is pure hell.
And this is not an evil ridicule.

Justify sins and hatred; this is your conception.
Being programmed to create, destroy, rebuild
This painful spin has brought transgression.
Perverted instinct reads: “Don’t stop, He will forgive!”
My herd has lost a path in woods of glamour,
Recall initial bliss immortal thought,
Accumulate existing sense to face the end.
And let them howl my evil shepherd ridicule.


-September 29, 2002
(r) devo
 
-Note on a Rainy Day

Pure, like grit
enduring flesh
kind like love soft like dark
beneath a hint of rain
It’s Sunday, you know
I felt your crimson voice breathe
and I knew in the glow of spring
blossoms not beauty, no, not cleanliness,
but like an umbrella drowning in the rain
Honesty almost stripped to silence
edges smoothed to stillness
you were a carousel the light that
revolves and revolves... and revolves.

-June 13, 2003
(r) devo
 
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