Came five harmonies,
come the wings of ameliorate humming,
quintet, quintessential quibbles,
mercies nervous music, from queues
of white-vented plumeleteer.
Captious couplets quick quivering,
firths of quicksilver,
mirror motions of Rainbow Starfrontlet,
coronet of corona, iridescent,
teachable songs, transient humming.
Reach analogous, obtain,
morning glitter of cacophonies,
airing voices of versicolored emerald,
black metaltail has gone,
purple-throated woodstar, legend succumb.
By arbitrary till I unearthed a grave of feathers,
beckon flight I cried, if sorrowful tears may quarrel,
cacophony, rise, ascend, remedy dove, Eucharist!
I bring the grub, I bare for you sesame, same of
sunflowers, resist the clouds which fill your chest,
abide my tears for bathing, your summers bath!
N’er you loyal beads of red raspberries, about the
thorns Polana, I weary at wells for comfort, thirst
for wings vacant sky, bent grief suffice your beauty!
Falling garments of bind less November,
painters of the atoning seamstresses, must
practice the nude, limerence in seven vale’s
of oak, contextual pigments that touch the
husk, of lady dancers for scissoring share,
sinuous legs of wind shaven branches. The
queen sun doff her morning hat, ermine of
the gentlest light, shadows in molt of first
pretense, pare from night, the unbuttoned
aura, atmospheres of the flesh, round the
leaves of fringe and flange. Wears forbade
sweet exodus, every précis of contour line,
sketch the figures for the sighs, forest flames
conform the thresholds, extremities long
story, adjacencies brief of brink or bound.
My heart is lowered, flattening as baseboards of
Plebeian, I fracas the gaudy wounds serdab, I
dishonored the physique of my beloved by shorn.
In all the bindings shrill or turbulent, I spoke
my quittance of charivari, I desired the pierce
of fervor, but my vociferantcies cut fond thunder.
By regional years I sought for the exotic, cries
of polarity, giving myrtle hopes to Aphrodite,
but I less staircase, when cicisbeo approached.
She raises her suns of gravitas, she was my neap
tide of eternal hunger, all I tremble erotic, I am
certain who she is, failing, death I peal her rose.
I am not alone, I am the land of ancestors,
braille by flesh, I feel call and book, my dolmen
church of congregations. I can not live isolate,
nor perish without attendants, they amend the
lining instructions of my hands, I am fostered
aegis, sheltering in the tipstaves, generations
of long stones, they portreeve the library of
my tongue.
I have succumb to vedette summer, only to
requiem by fall, I have died often, having
never died at all. I am buried in the under
writings of praetorians, I am the gentleman
of arms lost beneath blades of Argus, I am
the mother shore of Denmark, who died in
childbirth, next friend of infinity, I crowd
quay, elder Angels.
It is slight of hand, when musicians of Zanfona,
specter illustrations of Prospero, terse the twice
tale of the earth, made of melody, not of word.
Crwth betrayals to betray, wounds she left in
portrait bled, so wept for oud the otic flowers,
pittites concordance of aural rain, or thereby of
Bengal summer’s unrequited sun, hear the rays
of glass Armonica. Signet bare the audibles
rosined wheel, the painters of draalier, yea-say
sprites bowed psaltry, bound vistas yet to come,
disillude the hand bells chant, theatrical trees per
knees of chorus, bend bay the plight of drums.
I listened to land say, come walk with me,
Anne Sparks brushed against my ankles,
saying… follow me!
I would supple her gems on tiptoe, and
carol her blush from breezes, waltz soft
her memories, to the top of the hills.
I left her on lanes of red shoulders, for the
sea dampened Wintersonne, to hear press
of sodden peat, the Crane call…
Silver-gray the longship is coming, Erica
Carnea is aboard, abridge from way of
lather sail, come the Celts, but shore!
There by early star and wonders of the
vale-ntine, I wove in heart of Praecox
Ruby, love bore of May, pray heather.
Plea embrace sweet join, beloved, hands bright
color, hard sessile winters, Aladdin the snow,
apparition water!
Ukase the missionary of blue, aspirant breath,
spring tide, render, replenish, the violet blood,
that rounds the chest.
Kinship of Indigo, cruor, the covering body
or quilt nor’easter, the dim sighted bruise,
syenite of megrims, pleasure, bare white.
Rotaries night of bearing, orbits in spliced horns
of celestial stags, grander doe’s in satin vices of
wedding rings, flying squirrels in discus of solar
windlassing, or the Ovid flights of boomerangs.
It became the black linen of the widow, the loy
and cuffs of the chimneysweep, in dark displeasure
the blacksmith ignited the stars, with his tweezers
of Taurus, a pincer’s sword in rivet of iron planets.
The sleepless burn the nights of synchromesh, by
radiuses, or spirals of the silver spoon’s, ever last
incumbent, where the baling bull, or Lepus hare,
swim in the rivers of amphora, forAquarian habits.
Child of dying words, of Parthian shot,
I am the after-piece, the litter beyond the
wind, I have failed to rake myself together.
I farther now, from the Thule of swans,
the innocence that in whereby love, made
faith, in praise of candied feathers.
Among decousu I chaperone, associations
that may have been, before the series of
of Möbius began, shards lost by intermission.
Sleep per saltum, the catches of the rout, in
muster’s tussock, what are sheaf hands in
assembly, fardel lions, of broken irons?
H
So much of tufthunter fright, found an augustness
of sobrieties, in repute of venerable, royal beauty,
yet come to faith the crestfallen statuettes, grommet
garments, the timeserver left.
I dance the page, anatomizing letters of sounds
transparent, sonancy of friendship in sibilations,
offering clarities hymns. In blind night I hear
the hale, as Melodie’s of lovers kept impression,
auscultations of cavities chest, alto once, of tales
false. Sounds of idioms triangulating as phonetics
inform, the distance between subjects, Suzerainties
of relics, the verjuice or alum of anger, the prune
which emits mystic voices of curdled temper, I still
hear resonates promising. I run fingers through
the shapes of her echo, what is unpublished by strain,
crystal yet, all songs her applicable shaman.
Speak the leaves in discourses of baritone, I
comprehend the dialect of heavy thicket, it is
the virgin house of wild violets, there will be
no penetration.
I am the cuts of brambles opinion, threads
of fresh sweater, attest to the hostilities, might
I ravel on, finding less docile in welcomes of
boysenberries.
I could posture firm from cobbles, or pine a
shade of ogle, in raptures of the parasol trees,
but should I permit to reach for flors-de-lies
of timber, cusp will count, the medic burrs of
Harpagonella!
It was a very masculine crocus, it’s purple
somewhat conspicuous, I called on it’s name,
and my cupidon made quiet meta of Sthenelus.
It made bedfellow with seven, and a very
demure tuck, I with the bees made quarrels,
some wing of Kama’s throat, argued disrelish.
Sthenelus keep a long life, he abode offense
with fervor, the conjugal aspirations of regent
butterflies withdrew their tongue, steadied by
coquette, he remained open, as caritas un-beset.
In the moment is music, it will cymbal,
it will string, breath will come to us by
many flutes. It clashes you boisterous
by broken dish, it may louden discomfort
by siren or horn, or mercy by philomel,
your songbird home.
Comes the orchestra of many instruments,
the composite of composers, is our choice,
to Tuesday woodwinds, or Wednesday
kettle. Might we shout brass, one another,
or comfort the billowing child, by viola,
carol choice, our wren be.
I envelope here, names of roses, to courtship
cuttings FFion, paper 1st anniversary, Bella
Christina, finikin pink absent friends, it will
be life, bruisings of Blush Noisette.
Agnes grew pale yellow, in lost affections of
Ghita, fingers seemly white beneath Boule de
Neige, she made the run of cottontails, Joie
de vivre, beside sad bests of breech.
Out of wolfs mouth flew the Cornish hen,
from needles belonephobia, umbra must
parsley pinions from the teeth. I’ve heard
rumors by gooseflesh, I must candelabrum
from gullet, I am to magic miracles, by
shadow numbers, or portent find the golden
butterflies, under shroud of night. I built
shade trees from silhouettes, to parasol
from cent mantles of violent eyes, and from
Archeronians baldachins, fearsome lessons
of ommetophobia, but in the Moore light,
the joyful, fear my flutes.
Willow trees of Magna Carta, such Scouler’s
by teats of river, nursing wakes as a woman
weeps, what is early bone, for dory rain.
Anjiis came to hold by finite spring, but single
hills of relevant fingers, this salix of touch I
baptize, parlance cord my metal heart.
I feel her loss in satin blue of copper, private
symposia, her azure key where the gaits my
body locks, wait her carols in liberties, to open
the nights of notch.
With or when the tears, the picayune weeps,
thimble before love’s metropolis, I wound the
clouds to dark for me, rain for such, I could
not read.
At once to come forward, at once to leave,
I proper ingresses without direction, stagnancies
regard the firth, or suspicion by the waterways,
remorses of the paper mark.
In the myriad of the voids, the islander stands,
a squatters sharing, as the oceans seeps, how
broken the arms by oar, I offend the deep, how
the cotter miss, her cherish keep'
Patchwork butterflies of quaternary wings,
nourish in thuribles of pomander, worlds of
colorful kaleidoscope’s transition by wing.
Chaplets of tetrad fields, prim barley for the
rind, even by etiquette of the cherry tree, they
comport the methods, of next season’s fruit.
Idas blue manger the quatrain, the four of
prayers, as pollen the bread of Eucharist, in
portions dear, the psalmist months, becoming.
Olympian you are loved, in the lexicon
of willows, in dialects of water,
reach langue, for the aerial linguistics
of the meadow lark and the morning dove!
Whistlers wind of soft glossematics,
will animate for you, your worries of still
life, for all the painterly flowers of Wyeth,
have been given a way for patois to wander!
I’ve heard that violets are coming from the
east, your pheasant of auxiliary language,
will bring for you, a lavender note, that of
maybe will find permissions, pidgin’s English
of isogloss, purple velvet may quote.
H
Jeunesse dore’e, joie de vivre, Johnsonese
in jest or joinder, jaeger’s jaunt or jounce of
journey, sight the jubilance of Juliet’s cap.
Jaspe’ the vase of japonica, onyx ring in
initials of Janus, hands of white flowers,
jonquil’s joy’s, in jackfield ware, veer John.
Irregular itineraries, in thin insularities of
Issyk-Kul, or the irrevocable Jungfrau
hills, isthmus irreconcilable, I edicts ivory.
I flee from Isabella, plinth her bust of basil,
from Margarethe and Shulamith, from where
I am of hollyhocks, from the spread of steeple
feet and talon shoes, nevertheless, the problem
heel.
To be the unknown of mausoleum’s, or black
haired in the art of Carnegie, I furrow the fear
of tint and tone, in flights from obverse wars of
melanin, every illumination of Chi Rho page
bequeathed.
I confront prospectus, in gaunt weeds, wherein
I gardened neither seed, and everything I ingest,
is but febrile pomanders, ideas loquat, in psyche’s
of the supercilious, weightless truth I thrush, for
sanity.
Alone I see the vacant slipper, the tree of pipes,
or huff of fog, informing it’s gazes of melancholy,
I wander the images of Ochtervelt, the leaves
which can not move, beyond the embedded silks.
I portent the craft of company, blending soirée’s
individuals, separate caricatures of ginkgo leaf,
bliss in crimps of ecstasy, I see them female, by
symbol of the fan, implicit virgins commissariat.
I carry the mysteries of avenues, or feel at breadth
the psalter, who am I in the summer of people, cold
in the possessions of Jerusalem, but in the cusp of
butterflies, I certain a cruse of buttermilk, to come.
To merit port hair, redbud,
I crest the back of Venetian hen,
amorous arms around her neck,
other lovers at my merciful foot.
roses of the cochineal.
Swain by lights of Naples yellow,
the stem of beeswax massicot,
passions in old ivory of early sun,
risers for the Ferris of apricot,
May we bring to June.
The grace of three fates, blue craver, warrior
gloves and egret feathers, the thrice of sisters,
sugar bowl, decanter, and flagon. At harbor
of the pinnacle, an indeterminate, modish hat.
What of oils speak, on sequential spreads of
unprimed paper, the brush of the onion, as the
pulp peels? That a finished war continues at
parties of the serenade, Mary’s still life of yet
impressions, faith in the simple maze of the
sugar canes, Elizabeth in lures of simile, by
red blood of memory, or Arabella in upper
windows, her suites of beautiful desire, rest
light her gazes of crystal, what to proffer, he
of modest cap.
An amiable square of sapphire, or Joos reticence
of a teardrop pearl, in sachets hair of rusting wheat.
Lotuses in full stylus, ribbing of the octopuses buds,
in the vases of leaf pairs, bodice damasks of burnt
umber, necklines Ducal Palace, dynastic filigree,
emeralds poise as scholars pearing.
It was the banding sleeves of copious muscovado, the
tones of the dead leaf and the brown tail moth, silver
foil by sheens of contrasting thread, billowing tufts of
satin white beneath the banding, raising undulations
fabric over riverine arms, graceful lace inlets, her wrist
flowers, wine or grape, lacing lyre seas.
Tie this missive heel or archway, to her paradise
step, and to it’s mask of shadows, for I patient
her perianths sweet.
Epitaphs before my heart of unprepared leaves,
grieve through the seasons, complaining of age,
in unprintable poetry.
As glistening speak, her obelisk in concavities
of accessions whisper, I presume her width of
laughter, narrow the tear.
If I look to you, as greeting doe’s in armistice
hands, as if too much the night passed, and I
had dreamed of yellow lions. Might fault tender
raise, a softer crest of watermark, upon such
prejudice arguments, for the avens?
Console so forth, the finite colloquies of this
firstborn day, loss forlorn the beginning nipple
of forsaken candlelight, that I may anchor, from
forces whither frail, earnest black harridans in
coppicing most eager fright.
If spathe of light resusitive, finds cicatrix of
heliotropes, or lock moraine in orders serpentine,
in curling nests of orrisroot, or if match besets
the toast, might I hear stealth, your matins by
per-diem?
What nautical, the fright iron and the pennyweight
are falling, pica or column inch, elides of the tear?
Lengthen the dram, these fingers, asperities of
Catholic prayers, long hundred, the brusque of
infinitum, brevity of scared are, prejudices blunt
apocope.
Assayers of the copper threads, blot end-wise, the
durations of tarnished turquoise seas, minima in
brief, the wounds of conspectus. Mete allot my
liter sight, gill to breathe, the reach at arms length,
long waisted hope at shoulder’s breach, rooms ebb
contracting.
I’ve awakened to a curvaceous atmosphere,
radius’s of ovoids and pear shapes,
a conventional annulus of neatened flex,
sinuous forms of amulet.
Soft crescentic’s of fiqure eights, centrists in
discus pressures of cummerbund, S in
the bias of violins, every lozenge in quincunx
of women, cambers in irregular waves,
gestalts of beautiful balance.
If I believe the leaf golden, or press against
my hand, any jasper seed, or fail the baring
maidens, any saplings of olivine, it is but the
marquetry, the russet’s sight.
I have faith coln green, in white scarfing
winters, if chartreuse is credulous for those
naive, who abrogate the nightjars of the sun,
I reason the bishopric violets, aurora.
If I sorrow preservations, or in blindness
feel for damson plums, or mourning stria the
the tears of polka dots, it is my offering, let
me be the bruise of murrey, merciless.
Sunbonnet, brise-soleil,
art glass of the butterflies,
candlestick of the moths,
occulting veils of visor feeling,
helmets of obnubilation.
Gossamerines of diaphane,
sashes I pull of shade trees,
monitor of the gaslight,
jalousie arc of peacocks,
Sheringham daylight,
luminaries of antisun.
