Saturday, October 27, 2012

Song of 81 Poems, XVIII




Tell Joy she looms around angels.
 . . . No grim Dionysus . . . disco reveries.
Merciful blue scriptures read as a song of anguish.

Icy laughs if you can see.
 . . . I would have thought to envy the gate,
 . . . delved above, scratched, or chiseled on canvas.
Dazzle, pressured on, we live dirty.
Why men must confront our Saturday affair,
 . . . a key opportunity beside my moon.

My fear, if it is a miss, observes,
Walk Mama, silhouette your freedom!
Now share, a negative angry angel!
 . . . (Need our sculpture worry?
They said rivalry wasted dreams.)
 . . . Here, when filmed wild, it's sad,
Daddy needs good smoke.

I endeavor to choose an old soft ritual.
 . . . On Crete, a Mother of film walks,
 . . . they have lost patience.
Come obsessive Partner, it shows your set.
" . . . I'm another - what completes?
"I have form, obdurate metaphor!"

Please believe we can't go there,
Above our faith in brains, raw partner,
 . . . Care strokes best.
Make a thin grass opinion,
Mounted metaphor.
 . . . Come Sir, try some moon child.



Song of 81 Poems:

  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 
38 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61
 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Featured Post

Guide to Chaga Harvesting and Preparation

I've already posted on the positive benefits of Chaga for the health. Other sites on the web go into detail about this bounty of th...

Search This Blog