spittle

the apple tree crisp fragrance before molten fall an epic harvest to savor yet, you took one heart shaped bite then spit it out for the crows  

Hour 14: Cock.

read it like a scripture, and tore up the pages, set sights on the red horizons, and has his body on my mind. The last few lines, injected me with pleasure, he ruled every letter for every word, from out of my timid mouth, it…

The Whisper

I wonder some times if you think of me Of late nights intertwined in each other’s secrets All our masks off and guards down. The smell of you made me feel I was home. The look in your eyes made me swear it was love….

HOUR 16 Her Third Eye

HER THIRD EYE She’s a psychic in denial. as everyone knows. She’ll deny her third eye though  brightly it glows.   Along with her aura she will deny that her aura bangs it right out of the sky.   Ask her a question she’ll tell…

Hour 16

The birds build their nests in the cherimoya trees. In this semiarid climate, The foliage offers shade and protection. The workers begin harvesting in February, Picking the knobbly, green fruit, Rarely disturbing the birds. Lunch break- They scoop out the milky flesh, Black-seeded like buttons…

(ix) Have you heard the mountains cry?

‘Tis loaming and an ill-paced sigh sobs adumbral patterns in gloom, and rising from the crags on high a heart-rending sepulchral cry, as an echo, whimpers to its doom. From the magma-ocean, mantle plume rising to cool this febrile core, as a surge of verse,…

Oda a los inmigrantes

Inmigrante que viaja contra el viento Que despierta y enfrenta su jornada diaria Que suda que llora y no pierde su aliento Luchando de mañana a noche siempre contento. Inmigrante que viaja contra viento y marea Que sueña y no para y que grita en…

prompt Hour Sixteen–repeating line

Where the Mind Dwells I will live in the country where the mind dwells, a permanent resident of the nation of thought. My body will wither and fade, physical pleasures lose their meaning, but my mind will tick and sputter its way on through to…

(x) Gold….

All that is stramineous, runs in crooked, fine, veins beneath the mantle; All that is precious above the vaults, of her daedal earth, is less compared to the lustre in her eyes when she smiles. All that is auricomous, gathered as ochroid dust, by her…