here are some poems
〰️
here are some poems 〰️
download the 2022 e-chapbook: nonsensicaa: poems born thru play - volume 1 for free or donation
all poems in the series were created from boggle games with friends thru the years !! found in the game or spoken aloud during !!
boggle poem_june 3 2023
included in the june 2023 trans on the land pride zine
be with me , noon nova !
run my queries into the ground -
for i long to be a lad of the land .
i am but a dew voyeur ,
a roaming , drenched arrow
semi - versed in ways of loving .
rise , riser !
may i know yer sweet permutations
as well as yer crackled scaldings .
i am yer candied icarus
melt my waxwings together
pray i burn quick toward yer retina !
adventure poem
the temples of foxglove ring as we go along. kind of faint & omnipresent. our path bends to their knell.
juicy, forgotten silos of pain cycle thru our membranes. all meshed-up & dormant. we gargle what water we have left.
to the nymph node abode we go! froth laces our gullets. our longings & maps & such float to the top.
I am the thank-you Angel
on the look-out for derived mistakes -
driven by sugar-wheels, past the orchard.
open jars of loose leaves catalogued by illness
rustle in wake of our tin wings.
the breeze licks lightly the doe’s proboscis -
twelve scents at once for lady Faustus.
cock inflation superfantasy 5000
wait just a moment chap i’m trying to paint a giant phallus, but,
it engorges out of the canvas onto the balcony, balls dragging thru lavender.
wherefore art thou wild, hog? practically a meat pantry, a veiny, scattered bruise.
cruising thru a jet stream flared meatus singinga lovely hostage-keeper song.
foreskin flapping, chock full of planes, trees, missiles, satellites, cities, unknown gods.
thrusters engaged, grunting toward salacious Cygnus X-1building up to a mighty fine load.
To be Cracked open Wider for the tongues of fire of life!!
Oh i have been a little tumbleweed kind of fellow , a depressed yet dry & woven sapsuckering individual of respectful yet unrecognizable means !
One day wandering around all lunar-balsamic , next day struck by a seasoned fork from above !
[ Skewered by the point of a star ]
Witnessed by several figures wearing red leather high heels ... tapping in a fine Cloistered rhythm
once thought high fantasy scrim scram now made Truth to the likes of a Suffering ( yet vaguely sensual ) Succotash like me !
& FROM MY CRACKLINGS a great Roiling has begun: the Sediment shuffles around the origins of my leaking, hot miasma .
Gut wrenching inner altitudes have been Reached and Rumbled ! Bile slopped into the pot , grief scoured into my temple .
The angel that inhabits my Body must yearn for this Harkening . The shy kingdoms of solace creep into Periphery !
pretzills, the mini stick kind, yum yum!
sometimes u get a hankering to eat some twigs, some passenger-side ruffage -
its basically like kinda uhhh a salt lick, the nodules massage my tongue buds.
its like a super-soaker-upper wooden tampon extrication process
like a wakeup call when yer feeling sleep driven, kind of a daydreamers salve.
kinda sorta a front row/behind the scenes crunch activation Supercomputer-overlord of the art of munch..
theyre right there in the dirt at times like many other relics
dust a few off for old times sake and pop em in yer gullet
Captain’s Log
logging into the tridentsphere to form a capsule of exquisite demeanors —
on saturn’s day , a larger dream ( .5cc )
for the first time in technicolor fully fledged , 100%
this is what we’ve been waiting for, you know ?
today , a dash of chin hairs , a series of tomorrows later , a peanut butteresque solution ! a tuft in which to keep our many trinkets - a glittering thicket of magnanimity -
coarse gold wrapped along the outer realm of flesh .
n sooner yet , the expatriated utero-arama
{ banging its wetted jellied gavels as we speak }
spicing bleached catchments with cervixian delicacies ! wring em dry over the septic tank to form an alchemical ale . . a dewdrop intoxicant . . now in purple !
mon capitaine , we are alive for the sake of it ! the animus throbs with breath
n bobs for adam’s apples .
secret little pleasure
to be an arbiter of my own pain & becoming: (in dainty doses)
let’s pretend it’s illicit! let’s do it right in the sunbeam! we adjust ourselves thru a milkcrate armory:
pluck the short-sword & its short-sword sheath, procure the serum - slowroasted on the Altar of Ares & because all warriors train to be healers-
we pray towards the pierced flesh.