posted May 12, 2009 11:39 AM         

I`ve cannonized these creatures
and always I fall prey to their charms
in summer days of jasmine;
I am transfixed by their tales
I am lulled by bedroom eyes
and whiskey voices
In fall;
I dream in poetic cacoons blooms
transcending...like the blessed
the feverish body below my soul

As the nights grow colder
I notice the more horrifying absurdities
of my life
I know I fight for redemption and yet
I am cursed by the Moon to sin.

posted May 29, 2009 04:11 AM         

I didn't want to say anything else;
just, "I hear you", -- you know?
For dramatic effect and all that.

In italics, right?
With the alien up there,
peeking out of the corner...

But I also have to say you are brilliant.

And your light burns so as to rekindle
the dying hearts; those slow sparks,
almost suffocating under the heavy ashes
of ancestry, sophistry, and industry.

Or something less pretentious,
and equal to the artistry of your poem.
Thank you so much for sharing your
mind and your light with us.