renewed eyes to see my man, ears to hear your warmth and breath in your day. <amsen17>

dark and bald morning touching leaving me breathlessoctober morning. <amsen17>

you can only run so hard from reality until she screams: 'Gotcha!' <amsen17>

man of mystery was difficult getting him to open his life. <amsen17>

failure to see purpose of charismatic escapades, now so drained. <amsen17>

'warn the townspeople the beast is lose;' when he slid between thighs and life. <amsen17>

sat in a church hallelujahs wrestling my pagan desires. <amsen17>

militant brother came with islam in each step, henna our love. <amsen17>

the padded evening scent of orange peels alone in bed silent songs. <amsen17>

he ignored me evenings spent silently asking him to walk away. <amsen17>

the painted fantasies coincide with my unspoken brown prayers. <amsen17>

in the old room she next to the fire him alone the rain falls in step. <amsen17>

haunted by the loud scent of you ignoring me. this empty farce plays. <amsen17>

in the back of a car heading toward the joy he promised fair evening. <amsen17>

took a moment to feel his hands graze what's left of my burning midnight. <amsen17>

saw my moment slip between fingers in the theatre his smile falls. <amsen17>

two thugs birthed along the dark streets saturday nights. <amsen17>

touch me in the morning eastern winds and sound walking toward us. <monostich>

wrapped that body playing stocks and bondage sexuality and fragrant beauty. <monostich>

saw the contract she made with death in the eyes of a silent evening. <monostich>

darkness settled over woman's face, bitterness whispering in her mid afternoon. <monostich>

secured in bubbles seated on a cushion of water easing away my days stress. <monostich>

musicians reached crescendo the lowering sun stained her elusive eyes. <monostich>

seeing with eyes obstructed by pale moments... <monostich>

save just a little bit of the mystery laying in a bed cold and alone. <monostich>

strumming his lower nature primal harps the footsteps of moonless faces. <monostich>

they never took her serious tv watching him pregnant nights. <monostich>

we had fun cold air seeping into dry joints eradicate loneliness. <monostich>

near the beach front assumed he would come she waits in night. #monoku

slack jawed and confused, the news of another family to her didn't sir right. #monoku

haiku

...these dry winds come

their orgiastic mouths

smiling saharan tortures.

sonku

the stalks of

gray dispersed in the

field of my/ head...a ripening

harvest of wisdom.

sanctify this sanctum in sangfroid walls and sandal-like laughter. #monoku

tanka

revive our' spirits

frm this sanctimonious

lukewarm seeping in-

to us. scrape the leaprosy

frm our migrated souls quick!

pentastich (2)

psychedelic ingestions,

my opiate to/ stave off

the rhetoric of a

bleak reality.

economic squalor...utters loudly;

a dismal penchant for

thrusting its pelvic arch

in ways that

bring men to penury.

i walk jauntily along elongated memories #sixwordstories

i am dead poet, dead to sycophantic worship; dead to monotony. #am17

I write for the audience He's assigned me to reach. #am17

 adapt to this facist, facsimile reality. #6wordstories

twittering this endless array/of synaptic impulses. #distich #couplet

sunlight and these disheiki-colors producing 1970's feelings each moment. #monoku

a tome filled with words framing new realities. #monoku

the elixr of life, is to drink my words. #ninewordstories

Foolish pride assassinates! #threewords

i carefully shine/ my vanitiies to appear/ as though im someone. #haiku #confessionsofpeople

speaking from your lower nature in hollow voices pregnant with moans. #am17

you speak hedonistic decadence with the elan of hell's finest demon prince. #VR

these words i spin from the loom of my pen; restructure realities...build pragmatic mentalities. #vr #verbalriffs

i am dead poet, dead to sycophantic worship; dead to monotony. #am17

arabic afternoons give way to nighttime deserts. #monostich

sanctify this sanctum in sangfroid walls and sandal-like laughter. #monoku

tetrastich

hasty dressing

quick! before he returns

fully clothed and ready

to cut grass.



tasted your words thoughts stalked you, burned incense monk-like room chant you as prayer. #monoku

©Studio1013 2011

came smiling executions greek-like bearing gifts of proverbial smiles #monoku

turned over in bed, turned over these aftersleep thoughts. #monoku

and my old man took on sons like lint to cashmere jackets. #monoku

watching him sow grain and barley crops mid western afternoon #monoku

corrosive words grate on callous ears now prejudice. #monoku

caught the philosophy of life washing tattered egos. #monoku

he carried lunar eclipse his thighs my sanity. perusing the letter #monoku

married my pulse if it meant catching his eyes falling skies #monoku

heavy silence raining unbuttoned pants a quick smoke. #monoku

scratching the sound of your anger cold mornings mock me. #monoku

equinox came and you solstice man my talis.Man #monoku

even as midnite set in my turgid sensuality made sense to me. #monoku

raw emotions no feelings she straddles erection of drug-induced fantasy. ride #monoku

she said: he drank himself deep into me #monoku

how constrained and good in your love . how loose and aimless when you leave. #unspokenratios

how sultry these october days . how chilled my bedtime evenings are. #unspokenratios

his ragged breath against my ear dusk runs into blue. #monoku

he would salsa the rain. #6wordstory

should gauge the response in his laughter weak knees and whatever. #monoku

and when I reached over your last sigh morning folds into night. #monoku

@paintswithwords old woman knee highs wrinkled down dusty roads once beauty queen. #monoku

nursed a healthy hatred toward the bastard who tore life from the hands of my sister, Suzanne. #miniprose

dead branch overgrown grass me gingerly walking the back of memories. #monoku

besotted young girl those pre menstrual innocent days. #monoku

wicked post summer winds his wranglers and a bottle of corona. #monoku

along divergent walkings speaking sideways to day continued celebration of natal day. #monoku

at last folding into myself bare 4am slumber perusing eyelid graffiti. #monoku

abandoned the season of reading your excuses resignation over tea. #monoku

crowded cafe him after her loaded gun the sound of desperation #monoku

I drank my way into his bed he soberly guided himself into me #monoku

familiar throbbing twilight enters deep night spewing stars in opaque #1linesenryu

rolling over your rhythmic breathing creating dance steps for me to follow. #1linesenryu

castigating each other with eyes mating ritual I sit on his couch #1linesenryu

discovered hed run away my pulse now left laying on stale soil. #1linesenryu

met this muslim man heavy rainfall heat of a silent poem #1linesenryu

light mist new morning jogger perv by joyce hanks' window #1linesenryu

his bronze contempt found between her legs her legs her legs her #1linesenryu

with him too long come down from muted orgasm homegrown taciturn manner #1linesenryu

metallic afternoo grand central traffic lone assassin picking off hours #1linesenryu

early louisiana morning hand to erection blotting out fears #1linesenryu

artic rain drawing him into me carrying his warmth all day #1linesenryu

announcing my joy $4.75 a sprig of thyme. #1linesenryu

they met in Turin, bandying secrets like spanish whores #1linesenryu

walk into the room ultimatum upon your feet #1linesenryu

glass of absinthe drowning the evening my prayers hazy #1linesenryu

backward assignations hushed whispers of autumn and I debating #1linesenryu

air high room cold and we hibernate #1linesenryu

in the clarity of early morning the Bourne Identity. #1linesenryu

collide with image of a father I been running from. #1linehaiku

staring in the mirror seeing sepia image of my ancestors. #1linehaiku

took that evening walk you chandelier of evenings ceiling. #1linehaiku

intent on moving wraith-like thru your dawns. #1linehaiku

and tonight this adult man will cuddle with the truth of 30 and weep. #1linehaiku

orrin prejean

one-line haiku in Birthdaysequence a la m.mountain

2011


played in our backyard to the eyes of clouds

still your whore still your whore

and when i was done you moved toward the road

immediate painted smile your baritonal voice through the phone

what you asked wide eyed the night blushes

cant shake the feeling that time is stalking me

you arrived dark and i lost my light

male nudity the buffer that i bounce my lust from

managed to stitch your name my labia sings

found me in dawn's lap trailing snores

brought the wind with him his slick mouth sweettalking the heavens

store in the east village perusing his glances

she came in a variety of colors came in a mesh of smells.

down by the beach, carelessness sown in the air

rich soil two pairs of feet and the silence that lingers

state your intent as you run away with my pulse

wild man naked and freely engaging in primal assignations

nights spoken on in hushed vowels wind running laps

caress my swolen feelings pregnant with blazing autumn

down the back alley of NY lone woman speaking sanskrit to unknown man

frolick along the coast of Monte Carlo

her innocent womb to be emptied 14yr old gal tearful symphony

tattered woman flailing in the windless winds redemption

tonight i am brittle memory playing craps

not really violent just intent on not being used

quick and able to claim your sperm no longer yours

corner of 10th and Ducayne my inners recieve your invasive voice

premenstral sight lone grocery shopping his name is Rahamadiy

the scent of an oh yes and myrtlelike grief

after two weeks conversation turns too casual

serial rapist of virginal thoughts she's scarred

flunky to the greedy ideas you left lodging at my house

saw him seeing me he kisses her

femininity the bright lamp dispelling masculine darkness

young man hard on each stroke the release of tears

prying life from my cold thighs August 3rd

blk brotha library central row my talisman i invoke

sleet picking up old womans' out of tune voice singing pale memories

cars ambling aimlessly the old highway languishing

in the back of a tuesday i touch him touch me we cadence

trapped in a loud life holding screams over my ears

at the stove can of campbells soup far away glances toward frozen day

he bastard me mouth spilling dirty utterances the mess of his nature

i peeled the remainder of georgian dust from my weary body

down at Fleecies toe tapping eyes walk around finally tapping him

afternoon heat to mingle with the after love heat

she wears this sarong wears this frangipani fragrance wears me

its getting worse letting him linger between thighs to tired to say no

at the register all i can think of is producing the heat that lingers

took up residence in the sepulchre of modern thought

east african man serengeti heat run your fingers thru my dark earth

her proud breasts stood firm painting my lips with wordless words

appointment on the 17th flash of unease silent prayers

in dry rain wearing wet clothes both of us out of it

watching my-ongoing-man-put up slowly his legs parting for his mouth my pain

washing the aftertaste of lonely days ring of finality around my tub

asked him to take away his not-so-clearly-defined pain

©2011-Studio1013

[Awkward] *Haibun*

from your womb
springs chrome whispers and
i sense youre movement.


...unconvinced that anything else would do, she makes her way toward his flat...down
East Breswick toward the intersection of Troller and 45th.
     Canes has that canned milk she enjoys and she gingerly picks up a box of Ghiardelli
cookies. He hadn't returned any of her phone calls since she saw him...well, actually
saw him and Ramon.
Lord knows walking into the flat of the man you were considering marrying and finding him on his back; another man; actually you're neighbor from down the hall; mounted on his phallus would be
more than enough to...well, you know. Still...


with the aplomb of fading
day; a gown of coarse stars you wear
your feet scraping melody.


tough moments, head down; trudging through the pre-winter chill. Its just freshly rained; its cold and chilly just the way she likes. She doesn't do much speaking or smiling to the passerby's; more intent on just getting to her destination.
     She looks up; facing the large, stone facade of the grayish red building.
     The tears come quickly....she's managed to walk right back to her place.



 quiet street gray skies resident chill young woman's tears congeal.






©2011-Studio1013

On my Birthday I am praying 'Yahweh, teach me 2 # my days that I might get a heart of Wisdom' Ps. 90:12 #TheWayfarer

Learning that I can't live without Yahweh God each Day & Birthday! Ps. 90:12 enjoying my Birthday w/ reverence & honor.

bathing in silence while sleeping surrounded by now #1linehaiku

rolling over to sleep accommodating evening #1linehaiku

x's parading through my mind hyacinth breezes #1linehaiku

he regarded my words whitewashed days and bleached skies #1linehaiku

my feet took me west the days descant earths counterpoint #1linehaiku

carried away my bones afterrain 4am loving #1linehaiku

his easy smile representing his goings comings #1linehaiku

you sipped from the unholy grail of my life #1linehaiku

yes they wanted convention I wanted free #1linehaiku

your words scripture i often knelt between the legs of your altar #1linehaiku

myrtle scent hides scent rotting lies sepulchre of your mouth #1linehaiku

cheap dreams on my back you pulsating taste new tears #1linehaiku

journeyman rough terrain of brittle laughter me #1linehaiku

cool evening you move in me sound of broken glass #1linehaiku

we by the bridge he speaks of fear first #1linehaiku

3am still up toilet side happy birthday #1linehaiku

lonely house cold intruding his hand #1linehaiku

cool midnight rescued woman on her knees servicing him her prayers #1linehaiku

stillborn in her arms dapper spring pivots #1linehaiku

cracked tub washing away your desire #1linehaiku

birthday dinner you late smell of whiskey and her. #1linehaiku

[a'walkin]

each day,
each hour, to minutes, to
seconds, down to
each breath intake;
each heart and
pulse beat
im
  being
      im
        born
            im
              dying, transforming and transitioning...
came into this realm;
feet hit the air
runnin.
the first cry attesting
to my life and i
was immediately heading toward
a destination.
my short moment on the stage
of the earth; the world
watching me....
this play called "Life;"
on feet, designed for walking...
Nomadic I am...
called The Wayfarer...moving daily;
mo.ment.by.mo.ment
toward the open arms of eternity...
no man's been
able to halt this old progression...no man
able to pause this primal flow...each
adam; male and female
moving...progressing...no stand-stills; even when you
stand-still...all
flowing towards the eternity
that deposited us
here for
just...a...moment.
not sad...
melancholy or e.ven. mo.rose...
determined...Determined...DETERMINED!
to play my part in excellence...
DETERMINED! to
execute my duties in itegral order.
gonna let the song of eternity
flow past the lips of my life in
everything i do.
gonna smile...those wide-opened,
split-down-the-mid.dle smiles....
gonna just BE...no
need to try...gonna just flow...
gonna live...gonna live authentically...
gonna shack up with Sobriety;
gonna bathe in Clarity
gonna take up residence in Integrity
gonna make love to Wisdom...
gonna be talk over tea to Sanity....
gonna be WHOLE...WHOOOOOOLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEE...
gonna learn the language
of this soul...gonna live wildly in structured liberty....
then gonna take my bow
at the end; and walk off stage
with Eternity.






©2011 -Studio1013

[hymku]

all men come
to them-
selves, i come
to me
prepared to
lecture
myself on
learnin'
to...just...be...




©Studio1013 #TheWayfarer

senryu

with momentary
breaks from trying so hard; i
just enjoy being.




©Studio1013 #TheWayfarer

Aphorisms VIII (20)

((VIII))

i am the expressed song of the creator; i can't be someone elses melody.

*

my daily wish is to be sober-minded and clear-sighted among the drunkards off life.

*

spent so much time speaking, thinking, believing, being the negative; lets try a new approach.

*

young demonstrator, carrier of the sacred breath and sound that is words.

*

i am nomadic. life, but a journey i'm taking.

*

existing is not my destination...

*

His divine wind sweeping over my waters (blood)...

*

over the face of my deep; time to speak some 'Let Be's'


*

general population around me, assaulted by the 'crazies'


*

sanity & sobriety; the cap on my life.


*

Some things we only 'try' when we're not aware we already are.


*


Please don't TRY to BE...you already ARE.


*

we exhaust too much time TRYING to BE; when you already ARE.


*

do yourself a favor...Let YOU just BE.












©2011

#3ournal: had the most beautiful convo w/ some opera colleagues. off to my voice lesson. this is ministry at its best!

#3ournal: woke up premature to assist a need. stretched thin bearing it with a grin. voice lesson this afternoon.