Arranged by two's as peaches are,
at intervals that all may live—
eight and a single one, on twigs that
grew the year before—they look like
a derivative;
although not uncommonly
the opposite is seen—
nine peaches on a nectarine.
Fuzzless through slender crescent leaves
of green or blue or
......
Fuck Eliot, Fuck Joyce
Fuck freedom, fuck choice
Fuck everyone that's genius and chooses
sorrow over rejoice
Fuck Wilde and his wordplay
His genius, character display
His willingness to part-take
In doing pure art for art's sake
......
she has sex appeal straight from hell
doesn’t need anyone to tell her
she feels it inside and out
kisses her soul softly every day
if you want her attention, you better pray
consumed with her own scent
can’t be afraid of her confidence
she has a big heart
but puts up with no shit
she’s a part of life’s rare beauty
......
The old lady kept coming by
the hospital to assure the medics that it'll be
okay
"He's a true fighter," she said. "I know he'll make it.
He has won the battle with drugs
twice in the past. He'll make it this time as well. I
know it. I feel it. I believe in him."
"Mam," said the doctor. "We found rusty fragments
......
Modern day art works often queer and vague,
makes people keep guessing on its strange ideas and obscure content, sometimes plain and simple,
sometimes harsh and loud
and at other times even bizzare and boring.
Be it a graphite on paper or a subtle monochrome
......
she has sex appeal straight from hell
doesn’t need anyone to tell her
she feels it inside and out
kisses her soul softly every day
if you want her attention, you better pray
consumed with her own scent
can’t be afraid of her confidence
she has a big heart
but puts up with no shit
she’s a part of life’s rare beauty
......
fresh like tomorrow
and so vibrantly alive
wild, wild vase of blooms
still brightening homes
with memories of sunshine
and the hint of scent
lovely like sunset
on red paths to yesterdays
......
I was for long an active art enthusiast, with a special passion for still lifes,
As the roving, scarlet sun, develops late passion for the bustling nightlife.
I was ofttimes in large art museums, and I had traveled this whole world,
Always looking for another beautiful work, like lustrous moonlight pearls.
I zealously hunted lovelies by day, but I was a wide eyed, night owl, too,
As bright meteors turn into shooting stars, then disappear from our view.
My fabulous family shared in my zeal, and we often compared artworks,
......
I was a vibrant, portrait painter, bringing cherished profiles to eternal life,
Like undying life of balmy springtime, recurring in shades of green so rife.
I had long been fascinated with new faces, for it is seldom, two are alike,
As vague wonder, and deep mystery, follows each zigzag, lightning strike.
Happy, sunglow days were active, since I had a large, fastidious clientele,
Like the starry nights of moonlit magic, which put nature beneath its spell.
I lived in the house of pleasant afternoon, built to await a stunning sunset;
......
Life is full of beauty like constellations upon the sky.
I might take the time to look up at them tonight.
And I hope you can be here right by my side.
Together we could help each other better understand this confusing life.
Tell me every last problem that is upon your mind.
For you I walk through every pit of hellfire and back just for what you want to find.
I would not want to do anything else with my time.
Except make you feel good inside.
If you leave I might just take your life.
You can either ride or you can die.
......