Ona V___

Ona V___ is tall and thin,
     and has a regal way of speaking, from within.

She has a track star body, not an ounce of fat to spare . . . .
     like an Olympic champion . . . beautiful and feminine.

We go to the mirror, she looks at her face,
and when she does I get behind her, and stroke her deerlike legs,
     back, waist.

And when she asks me if I'm hitting on her, I say,
"Not really. I'm still drawing!" . . . We end it there.

But it is very erotic . . . she has the most powerful hands.
She gives beautiful back massages . . . she leaves me healed.

Appear

Appear in a divine dual endeavor,
She wants white canvas,
breaks them out, in beauty and freedom.
Believe the drunk!
Take that impulsive sleep,
Care for our fiery sexual cure.

'Hear!' she said. "Sculpt! You're me!
"Let that miasma come brother!"
Who needs a dish of mouth, when green.
Demand, eat your full thought . . .
Share a couch, observe,
Think, and act.

She lets some dirty dead differences here speak out!
Some shy sleep before music.
As much as it sticks to some soft thing,
Throw our water, then junk wood,
Hold for observation.
It's said after cunning delight.
"Mellifluous, (sniff!), has her period."
Cuddle your angel!

Get him to know our obscure grip.
Never compose a lie!
Its truth must say how much I risked in metal,
Must doctor him with dust?
Could I borrow a sequence like color?
But he attached deep resentment, was empty.
Made, sculpt-ed facts in some way,
As time pressures red paint.
Programming would then chant romance,
They time my faithful passion.

If blonde drugs trashed you,
Lose her sanguine will from damaged smoke.
Come, infant, better know a fool, fresh and glorious,
Down high, sure, a wry society above.
Caught a child, straight, feeling nerved, a cruising metaphor.
Opinion licked clean of her bearing she'd soon investigate how,
What guile, buys problems.
Flavorless sanity Pal -
Form must hurt Peace.


with Ona V, 5/25/2006, 26, 27, 28

-:-

  The Muse 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 39 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

If Silhouette . . .

If a silhouette captures a mad thought somehow,
     forget I said it.
Come, you and I . . .
forget how a baby's green harmony,
     under denial, follows every laugh.

Throw positive water in her waiting delight.
Why is the girl like that?
     We tried to impress her.
They were too bold with pressure,
Yes, down around here, one bitter glorious night,
     Grace absconded with her husband.

Look, orphan, my opaque soft instrument,
     threw me here.
So grace me.
Walk to perform, and though dry,
     I'm through my every fateful base.

My wife who thinks, totally meant Friday.
She's so arid.
"I have form, obdurate metaphor."

Do see it all, never use pride.
City's hell, who could have resented.
Brother we presented our time outs,
     as awesome wild pain.
Call for attachment at the mouth,
     to handle a reversal.
Character is time which appears:
     'When did you want your psychedelic review?'

His death had been lame,
A bad song over, it all came.
     Started to investigate.
Must peace, so young, paint dirty?
Until then, no aggressive passion could love
     A curious turgid festoon.
It doesn't sculpt, but carved space.


May 26, 2006, with Ona V, 35, 36, 37

   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 39 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

Somehow Forget

If silhouettes capture a mad thought,
somehow forget this pathetic communication.
I'll then have green harmony,
 . . . under denial, furlowed, every laugh,
Throw on positive water, enervate delight.

Father hated skirts like that,
but she tried out group pressure.
Weren't they too bold to presume?
Let grace abscond the husband's light.

Orphan, my opaque soft instrument,
knows me here, he creates me and you,
but walks to perform.
And though dry, improves my every faith.

Foolish wife, who thinks totally!
She means the Friday. She's so arid!
I have form, obdurate metaphor!
Do cuddle, never use pride.
See, it could have resented, Brother!
We present how time mounts an awesome wild pain.
Call for an attachment at the mouth
and then they'll reverse character.

The time which appeared?
When did you want a psychedelic review?
Fine, his death had been lame,
A bad song over, I'm all gone.

Study, investigate!
Must her piece so young, paint so dirty until now,
Address, his fashion world,
love a curious, turgid, festoon.

Don't sculpt me,
Carve space.


May 26, 2006, with Ona V____, 47, 48, 49

The Muse 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 39 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