Am I a sick man?

as I lived on a hibiscus shrub
Many rooms, long and short
Many face vividly coloured
with a beauty of sadness
grafted on a nameless rootstock

Am I an unattractive man?

as I lived like a petal in the sun
perfect for bees and butterflies
and the visitors; oh day! oh night!
as for me, time danced on a maypole around my dreamy garland head

Am I a spiteful man?

as I've counted all 3863 days, 1 by 1
that I lived on that hibiscus shrub
without a flight to my fantasies
Since then, I'm thrown underground
here I live like a ridiculed mouse

Do you know me, Dostoevsky?

It's a treasure trove
Words tossed up like confetti
Falling in our hearts

On Cassatt's easel
afternoon stretches out
its pink pastel faces
cool as the palms breeze
warm as the oolong tea

Life's a blooming rose
A special gift to possess
Death's a rose well pruned

Where Emperors go
caterpillars can't contend
but by changing state

Sweet Suga won't smile
Emotionless wild sedge stalk
Is Japan sweeter?

Blackboards love math dorks
not whiteboards, glassboards, or corks
Chalk's gathering dust

Is this heaven?
High above, above High
Bizarre, @ poppy sky height
leaping clouds on cloud 9
eyes, hypnogogic eyes
roams recalcitrant red
Idle! Martian! Deserts!
live streams can't pry
**** dried, silica tears
dam: # freedom cry
Free as a sand storm spins
Head: "I'm lost in the winds"
Headhunter's Hunger
Insatiable Appetite bites
Gnawing butterflies
crawling by poppy sky flowers
High above, above High
Heavenly Heights

Slave of briers courts
regal, purple, velvet robe
Picture perfect rose

Black is a book of secrets
The world's words written
without fanfare for the colour
just the hue of inhumanity
Like a plague... like a sin
if its black... it's hard bound

Bound, booked and stacked
high on history's shelves,  
real words living life: over again
chain, maim, pain, inhumane
Don't flinch figure! Lynch figure!
If you ain't a figure, go...

Figures, black as night as day
stray cats ain't panters, they can't pant
Counted cruelly as commodities
But who's been chequeing?
Says who black isn't beauty?
Says who diva Devi isn't a cutie?

Black is now back
with a Kodak claque
hot like Lewis Hamilton's wheels,
hot heels, a black dress stepping
on broadwalks, cats talking
"time to lift off the tarmac"

My wondering child
never lost in the clutter
young encephalon

Feather light words exhumed
heavy as Mussolini's clock
coo coo times, chimes
and a fascist bird sings;
sweet and succinct

Taken as is
might slight delight
The vitiation of words
in the phrases
Petals dead on a wet, rotted bough

Beyond these lines...
on worrisome papyrus
where names fall in anguish
like hailstones on Nebraska
cold and violent
none lost in turbulence
in the hall of two truths
weighed on death's feather

Beyond these lines...
words sharp as bayonets
on loaded guns, pointing
... pointed as lead, drawn far afield
beyond sight
beyond purpose
beyond comprehension, yet
accurate as a ******'s breath

beyond these lines...
these crude and relevant lines
that calls forth to death
with rhymes ... with syntax
imagery, impeccable imagery
refrain, can we refrain?
beyond these lines... of death
beyond these lines... of death

Oh Sophie, no Sophie
So sorry, you left
crystal blue persuasions
No warning, you left
my coral feet reefed, fleeting
for cold fired bricks streets,
in heels on the walls, well lit
Too bright for you to see:
these red lit walls

and Sophie, do recall
better moons saw, my heart
teeming with an ambient glow
in our seasons, when we lay
on the hills of Soufrière
So extravagant those eruptions
You trembled when lava poured
freely into the Port of Amsterdam
No walls, no *****.... Sophie?

How, my dutch, now?
These red lit walls,
so lewd and menstruating
stands as glass windows between us
and these strong, macho *****
forged with Finish arms,
like Heini Koivuniemi look-alikes
muscling my heavenly pleas
to the hellish red walls in De Wallen

She spoke gibberish
words I did not understand
We shared great laughter

When the sunlight fades
She creeps out in the darkness
Stellar in her ways

The foamy seaside surf retreats
on broken waves, replete
with inebriated words
sober hearts
surrender
❤

... and the concordance of history is best illustrated in the words of the 21st century emperor himself ... "# flagged for violent content".

Night from night remade
with the strangest contemplation
like Gogh's fantasy of sorts... unsorted
hapless, on an empty linen bed
laid, bound in Brixton's *******
Not like the whistler's queen
nor Mona... more unsettling
maybe a strumpet's retreat
Too brisk were strokes in anguish
and forceful a brush, one and another
with all manner of emulsion
Yes? Then too... a little k-y
Art is always made and paid for
The artist is prized
John Myatt's a Masterpiece
It fetched him a sterling glut

Mannequin men murals
Stationed on a crazy catwalk
with their mundane masks
and bloodlust eyes
Such was the intensity
In the silence of night
Tiny drums crescendo
with stubborn teflon skin
As stars tossed from hell
Crazy cats on a catwalk
Meow Meow Meow
Moving mannequin men

That sunset for George Floyd came so soon
was indeed another heartbreaking cheat
But what's worst for us: another blue moon
shone again so bright on Ebony Street

A brick was laid in the wall of pity
while the darkness of the nights are sombre
Isn't it for poor George's adversity
That the yellow-hat men had not ponder

Now cities aglow for George Floyd's fall
As knives clatter and windows shatter
Yet still this Curious wall stands tall
to show us all: black lives don't matter

In these perilous times I'm forced to think
Would it be the same if Floyd was pink?

I'd dreamt of Moshe's fall
In the arid land of Kadesh
And I wondered; how sweet
were those waters of Meribah?

Then, I woke up from sleeping
and was greeted by a nightmare

Rising under an Ethiopian cloud
The Grandiose Renaissance
To tame the mighty blue Nile
To free the wild hearts of men

How I pray tensions fall
In the fertile lands of Africa
as I ponder; how sweet
are these waters of Meribah?

Love borne in briers of a lonely heart
May bloom eternally on heaven's stage
So sweet the lustre that lovers impart
Like ink from a poet's pen on a page

When eternity comes bouquets decay
And letters of love fade into the night
Then mourning comes like a worn out cliche
Uncertainty grow to strangle you tight

Shudder not now my friend the end of love
When its curtains fall; take your final bow
free it of corpus chains to fly above
the empty trails of bards feet left on snow

When the last sonnet can't mend love's sorrow
Toss in Dante's burning heart your arrow

The daughter of time
as naked as truth can be
Reflecting our lives

The dame on the Rhine
Through larch, spruce and pine
Called as she was without a name
"La dame", "De dame", "Die dame"
She came with Purple Heather
Tulips and Buttercups in September
From Graubünden to Hague
Ne'er deemed a plague
And it rained; a scarlet rain
For Constance and for Cologne
For Saga, Scenes and Scents
Hot baths under Weber's tents
Yes, it rained a scarlet rain
She steered her great course
To the enclave of the Norse
And it rained a scarlet rain

The world turns over and again
A wheel on the carriage of time
Like the days of creation:
with the manifestations of men

To what end the wheel turns?
How then will it all end?

Like the septenary of God and Sages:
A sabbatical for atheists
A sabbatical for believers
To rest... To the rest

Like hot feet and broken chains
on the chalky hills of Normandy
A prolonged accolade for failure
An insipid brevity for success

Like rope, flag and wind
Full mast; Half mast
Baptism, Bells and Choir
Black bands, Bells and Spire

Like marshmallows in heaven
burning in dew drenched bonfires
White sheets and tears
White sheets and tears

Over and again the world turns
Junipers and Gin
Sistine smoke and Pope
Fuel and Fire

To what end the wheel turns?
How then will it all end?

Your diamond eyes still amaze me
From a thousand moons courtship
Drenched from the sun's embrace
Like a French kissed maiden
Limp from the pleasures of life

Yet still, your diamond eyes reflect
The dreams you once dreamed
Beneath a twilight of silver stars
With the innocence of a crying child
Comforted by the warmth of a bossom

Your diamond eyes still amaze me
More than indiscretions of my youth
When dew dripped petals were tossed
At the soles of our stumbling feet
Holding my hand, you walked with me

Your diamond eyes still amaze me
For all the riches which they sent
Your love scattered across my life
Your diamond eyes amaze me
And I am a child of fortune

When the eastern winds are freed
On vast fields of scattered seeds
In a season of smoke and fire
One million and more is dire

To themselves each flower keeps
While those close bequeath a wreath
As minds burn and mine burns
Buddies piled high for urns

When the eastern winds roam free
On the lands of the north Atlantic sea
We'll live days and nights of doom
When the wild Bergamots bloom

Oh William, Oh William
The Franciscan Friar
Oh William of Ockham
Who deems thee a liar?

If the solution is simpler
Then it ought to be right
But not... not for love's hurt
That I crave in my lonely plight

Oh William, Oh William
Wild roses and briers
Oh William my brother
Princes, Kings and Choirs

Its eighteen months since her delivery
Now she is penning odes ostensibly
Crayons in both hands: she is standing tall
What Dada says? "No writing on the wall."

With great care baby writes her graffiti
Not much untouched by her audacity
He tries to compromise with a new book
but baby says, "Daa Daa"; with a stern look

He has to admit the walls are hers now
Filled with scribbles and a chromatic cow
Its her version of Van Gogh's Starry Night
without the stars; a novice oversight

She's more surreal than Salvador Dali
The writing's on my wall: Pure Graffiti

Chastity went
Anxiety came
Undressed
Thumping heart
Innocent no more
Over and over
Now it is all to the wind

This is not the first                  TIME

Nor is it the                      SECOND

while reading the      MINUTES

That this love of              OURS

has left me in a                 DAZE

Now I am so                            WEAK

I think this feeling will last a life-TIME