Florence has warm blood
and cowrie teeth that seldom clatter,
even in the chilled, fluttering dance of July rain.
She’s an element of Shiloh
in weeping quest of a promising Samuel,
and for this,
walks through long and clammy paths in July rain.
July, a month of sacred yams,
......
Petals of roses are scorched before noon,
And it’s just February, my month of woes.
Laughter becomes suppressed in the face
Of relighting the dark woods of a wintrous,
Unfeeling December, when the census of beasts
Takes place by the spine of the jungle.
O beating heart, fast and deadly, your tremours
Elephants tramp on the merriment of immigrants,
When they dance to the beats of stolen drums.
......
♡
Sounds of yesterday
Echoes of tomorrow
As we pass through the vast of today
Grains of sands blown down the unwritten annuls of history
A history yet memorized and internalized by generations
Those that suffer tribulations
Have rather found meaning in the passage of time
Time in which tears naturally dry up
......
These are the canyons of Ukraine
from which he came
to take the name,
to take the name
of Stinie.
These are the sharp and hungry streets
of black Whitechapel, that pulled as tight
as fiddle-strings round the lying throat
of Stinie.
......
COLOURFUL LAMENT
I combed cool waters of your
baby blue crystalline Jewel as you
waded waterfall waves washing
my stellar rainbow rays
Arching it melted into the warm
womb of transducing tangoing Earth
Her Violet Flame devoured us both
......
COLOURFUL LAMENT
I combed cool waters of your
baby blue crystalline Jewel as you
waded waterfall waves washing
my stellar rainbow rays
Arching it melted into the warm
womb of transducing tangoing Earth
Her Violet Flame devoured us both
......
Florence has warm blood
and cowrie teeth that seldom clatter,
even in the chilled, fluttering dance of July rain.
She’s an element of Shiloh
in weeping quest of a promising Samuel,
and for this,
walks through long and clammy paths in July rain.
July, a month of sacred yams,
......
♡
Sounds of yesterday
Echoes of tomorrow
As we pass through the vast of today
Grains of sands blown down the unwritten annuls of history
A history yet memorized and internalized by generations
Those that suffer tribulations
Have rather found meaning in the passage of time
Time in which tears naturally dry up
......
We could've droped some
But to deem us foolish
Aint cool a thought
For we've our one stop:conscience
Wherein we play no fantasy games
For ours is the house of the sun
Listen to our baseline,so thick an' cool
Don't dare sing along in off key
For we know who we follow
......
Petals of roses are scorched before noon,
And it’s just February, my month of woes.
Laughter becomes suppressed in the face
Of relighting the dark woods of a wintrous,
Unfeeling December, when the census of beasts
Takes place by the spine of the jungle.
O beating heart, fast and deadly, your tremours
Elephants tramp on the merriment of immigrants,
When they dance to the beats of stolen drums.
......