Tag Archives: poetry

the phantoms grasp

when i gaze long enough into these melting sidewalks i can see myself as i was before; before i knew anesthesia, before i knew platforms, before i knew the ocean and where looks could take me. i was mislead and … Continue reading

Posted in Life, Recovery (USA) | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Mist of Azure

there, you begin. between a foreign utterance, you compel. “your blue is just bleu,” and nothing else. notice the namesake; yet she is as metallic as they come. as she comes to you by smoke with the lush of her … Continue reading

Posted in Life and Other Trivial Pursuits, Love, Recovery (USA) | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

evaporate the need

if the heat fell with june then, calf to thigh, you’d pleat into me. and breeze over. me, bare enough to remain wet. you could’ve rinsed the suds from under me.. instead i’d smile, cross, with crossed knees. i’d sip … Continue reading

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wrangling dust

it’s a votive for confidence; a feather threaded through the ear, forging for motives spooled by powder or ashes. but there are no ashes for my sin never rests in bed. my watch still flares over chasm. a motto in quasi … Continue reading

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Chai tea

It’s the first snow footprints; we all fall into them like smiles and similes of what it’s like to smile. They think it’s the caffeine but the path would be sneezing by now. Instead they should ask what it means … Continue reading

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A coral coloured cast.

My knight, I’m going mad in the shadows that the palm trees cast. Cast. Cast.                                        Casted, they were, for a play. Asked, they were, to vibrate like foreplay in the shadows we held over head. We were drowning in saliva … Continue reading

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only if there’s a last supper after my “last supper…”

if i let my tongue burn, sometimes i think i would die. sometimes i think i would die if i let you fall under my breath where i hide my bread crumbs. it’s because they didn’t teach me misery right. … Continue reading

Posted in Cohering My Trip, Life, Recollecting India, Recollecting Insanity | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

One Hundred Crystal Balls

Stand still– for this moment, you are blind in peacock feather eyes. You are doused in crystals, beaded in fortunes too new to be told– stand still. Stand still– for this moment, you have drained mosaic windows of their prophecies … Continue reading

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Who’s the Bitch?

                 Am I filled with helium                   or did the sticks fetch                 themselves? My head                       must be bloating                         and gloating…                                I assume       this humbled posture               has strayed me          hunchbacked as     a neutered … Continue reading

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As Silence Reflects

I click my bones against you to know my hollow. My skin shades in transparence until I am glass. I am fragile tainted glass; tinted, unworthy. My bones open for your transcendence. I welcome shatter. Please, your fire binds my … Continue reading

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