white.

there is memory in my silence. dust lines our sovereignty in the length of hours I demand as I lie here in your arms, asleep. I crave your comfort. I reminisce of our time spent, happy, in each other presence, enfolding and folding into pieces of each other foreign to the next. I fall into a stupor, languishing my hours over a cup of lukewarm coffee … the days reminder of your love and the capsule of dynasty I hope to become.

jar

Dissidence once held my hand, separating me from the mass of crazy ants that pitter pattered aimlessly amongst the crowded, lonely streets. I was shaped in divinity, transported from a world where dreams hung like balloons in the size of hangars and were bought “on the house” shedding their weight of disillusionment. my virtue, I realized, was not lost in that rose colored kiss that swam in the jar of glossy affection … my innocence was lost long ago in the desert of carnage and in the sea of waste; in those forbidden illusions that robbed me of grace. I reek now of normalcy and of tempered delight, I’ve dropped all of my belongings.
I have entered the race.

photograph: http://legosneggos.wordpress.com

integrity

I hover in uncertainty, hanging from the chimney of love in quiet dissolution. the mark has begotten me. the time undone. I look forward in fever now, transfixed to the life I always vowed to live. I have separated myself from the cushion of integrity. I have lost what once was mine to claim. I have grown up ages in these months of sugar and bliss … and I have heaped worldy wisdom into these hands of mine that have molded ache into art. once and for all it is final. the innocence I thought was once still mine to hold, is no longer mine to claim. the difference I now feel is resolute. the compromise: over. what was lost to you, is now his to gain and he sits on his throne twiddling his thumbs with a faint wash of sinister malevolence brushing his tiny face. he was won the game and has sentenced me to death in my own land of veracity.

by: Curtis Verdun “The Dance of Good and Evil”

words

your words echo inside of me. lost pieces of casual sophistication remain in my grasp and as I place them on my head, a transformation of my image is awakened in the heat of your polish. you are the whisper of the moonlight. the love-language I speak. your speech is a manifestation of rose petals scattered on my daily prayer and I am made melodic by your touch. I exhale the darkness and breath in the light, a portrayal of my conscious effort to sacrifice the comforts I used to keep. comforts that robbed me of happiness … luxuries that fortuitously came with a price … opulence that gleemed its shiny nuance with no promise of ever staying sane. though I justify myself, I am also validated in you. please plague me in the summer air with your infectious kiss and tender embrace. play with me between the sheets as the night enfolds the glory of the day. my doomsday is behind me and I am primed for spring.

quiet

it is the quiet tonight that soothes me. there are no mockingbirds outside my window trying their best to sing me to sleep with an unwelcomed lullaby. there are no voices from the fanatical neighbors who live on all sides of me trying dillengently to make their noise into the greatest circus the world has ever known. i can hear the cockroaches inside my walls tiptoe-ing about in their imaginary tea parties, and the tick tock of a wooden wall clock that is no where to be seen pining away its minutes in hopes of a new dream. i forget what it's like to be mindful and i think the silence makes me crazy. I realize that I hunger after you in waves, in massive doses and like medicine you pacify the parts of me that used to be ill with fever. you embody my quiet, and together as we dance inside a beautiful ballroom routine, we live. it is in my quiet separation from you that I am made certain of the assessment that harbors itself in my heart. and that is that my adoration for you is compulsory … my commitment, assured … and my desire to grow within the us that is beginning to feel so incredible, is completely one hundred percent dignified by the angels that live in my bones.

photo by: mysteriouspainter.com “the door”

flipside

upside down, the world hangs in ardor. my falsetto is silent as I preach love to the tiny ants that reside in my bones. the cracks on the sidewalk feed me lies as I fill spoonfuls of life’s wisdom into my breast. the dawn is red and full of pieces of you that remind me of us and I have hung each of them separately, in the mist out to dry. (I used to paint the platform you walked upon with shades of mauve and gold but now I dissuade the present from taunting me of your essence. I dream in circles, locking myself out of the nightmares I continually keep on hold.) I gorge myself in the feast of life on vampy kisses and heated sheets. and as I move ahead, I leave you behind. the printed moon collapses on my forehead when I stand just right in its light … this reminds me of the heart I used to let you keep, so convinced your perfection would continue to hold. (I buried the last of you last night … in the brilliant sunshine that I found. at midnight, your corpse came running naked through my house. I clamped him down, I strangled him and I fed him to thieves that watched in silent ecstasy.) I am no longer haunted by the things I used to be. I have taken hold of myself and taught her to love exclusively. perhaps devoid of you, in the aftermath of the storm, I munch now on a sweet strand of bamboo who is stronger than the fiercest wind I have ever come to know.