Blog Title Photo

Blog Title Photo

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Are Raw Words Obsessive?





I

Perform for me this tea art.
Sweet Daughter we must, when you and I are together, live.
So let’s walk.

I am for tantra, fiery pictures above dust,
in a full glorious rainbow.
How many will never understand beauty.
Muscly men gripe, offer unity,
Drive until you caught some bird.

Black peace could give us language.
My aesthetics you use, until she stills green passion.
Glass bodies in communication look for Music.

You trust your electric model,
never together under passion.
A traitor with a whipped tongue feels free.
I like this freedom, I believe in the drunk!

The animal I need makes my empty Death.
Clean sex and an electric picture . . .
Models grant no denial. Respect.
Could the old gal win at dice?


II

I see sculptures, manic sculptures after praise.
Only symbols, they are laughter.
When in such a worry, you and I.
Good character destroys what won’t give us night.

Grand Sir, first know. Let her draw her companion’s will.
Here howls a beautiful language.

The Mare above him was caught,
must know laughter, and be all danced.
Suffer to investigate a thought,
Life flies after us, set in a black limpid experiment.

See the two partners,
somehow forget if silhouettes capture a mad thought.
Improved though blue, please may you comfort us.
Praise only simple morphine to scale. Conserve it!
It’s an awful hidden and daunting reserve.

Life knows patience in heaven, as silence.
Free my esteemed fellow. Sleep!
My mate is innocent, how will you go and decide upon her silence?
I’m for tantric teaching.
Bed her to discover animal music.


III


Let's test our will.

Call me.

Model my hard question, through music.
We spoke of her money jungle.
Then she went crazy, have patience, . . . so choose.
Fly with a glass stranger.
Tropical, can we tell about glorious endeavors?

This impulse is soft, and looking spotted,
and that studio experiment in passion,
Brother, all around you sculpts an Angel.
Fill a glorious missive. Anger would have faith.
Share his joy. It will glitter.


IV

Our water is the bed, through my ear she goes.

Could we know blue?

Elves balance, cuddle with color.
I try to empower kids. Fly to me,
“I weld men. Follow behind me.”

She and Zeus chant face to body.
Shimmer about the rain, about the grand river.


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