Category Archives: Traditional


She is painted protrusion jutting skyward,

feet planted firmly in silica substrate,

her kaleidoscope cacophony a constant companion to carnies,

purples melding with browns, the streaking symphony of her breasts rising with her breathing beneath the sunlight as she pokes up her head,
half-slumbering in some half-recollected riposte that ravages savages and stings so sweetly,

as honeysuckle burdened bees building bastion for their queen, quivering in quatrain formations, fully finessing fulcrum to swing in metronome, pulverizing poems into powder and insufflating them.

We fell in love the way vistas crest the horizon while you’re doing 80 on 34, threw caution to the wind to live with the consequence of opulence, spreading contemplations upon each others’ skins like coconut oil in sequestrations steeped in the spinning of tales in the limelight of our elocution.

But in the darkness of midnight, in melancholy reposes that paint passions poisonous, imposing wolves’ clothing on sheep, as she dispossesses every ecstasy cast in the moonless nights after my misplaced ardor spun in silken strands of stimulating dream stuff, made manifest at hand, fracturing reality on impact.

Reshift, reframe, rewire for a new page, regauged, mountain range so close yet out of reach, left with nothing but to be precious with poetry, yearning for this surcease, mired in the grief of unconscious cause of her indignation, waking to a poorer shift in paradigm, tasked with merely being patient but still I pine.

7/30 – Whirlwind

She swirled in a whirlwind fire storm that fought all norms,

Disavowed unconformed commerce for other problems, got it, solved them,

She’s on to conduct, constructs, chatbots in cyber, quick wit, always slick on a cypher, tidbits, slips sacred sanctimony off antipathy in geometry, defies all logic and astounds me.

As a whirlwind wonder that wanders dust storms through encounters, of what I am grateful for is her countenance.

3/30 – Shores

She’s broad as shore to shore,
hips as wide as America,
she shines, sea to shining sea,
loving a lost cause and hopeful,
falling fanatically for an abstraction,
half-baked idea that never fully form,
failing to see reality for the potential at the core.

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Out of favor,
Vestigial heart palpatation,
Encouraging but
Slow-dancing and
Granting transparency to
Haphazard replacement.

Haiku #Connecticut

Bumblebee buzzing,
Friendless stranger in the rain,
No nectar to eat.

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Tilted Windmills

She says it’s magic,
Calls it wond’rous,
this tragic madness crashing thund’rous,
loud as a blunderbuss between these ears,
where windmills tilt
to subdue these fears.

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