Child Born Of Tremor and Turmoil



writing is my love

my life

the beginning and end

of an always speaking wife

we noticed one another

while drifting away from life

on the verge of exiting

she stole the knife

we courted on balconies


and windows crept through

by cellphone light

we wed four years ago

happy as could be

believing us

is all we would ever need

marriage is not

without difficulty

for to unify two individuals

someone must be subverted

to keep the peace of another

so I remained silent

pregnant by another

far more ravenous insatiable lover

and when the night falls

I run to her

begging to be spared

and spare the world

of a child born of tremor

and turmoil

agony agony I cry

why do you leave me alone

to perish


Tiffany’s Luster


Come with me, my love

Let me rise on you, like a dove

on the summer winds

Let me suck down your sins

like a bee on a flower

Rain on my face like a spring shower

Bruise me as if I were a dangerous criminal

destined for execution, so electrical

are my feelings for you

that if you ever stopped touching me and knew

that a rusted knife lay above your dazzled hair

you would have never crawled into my naked lair

Putting waxing green eyes

to the waning winter sun

knowing the loving act

had been deviously done

Men would always trail

from lust of Tiffany’s luster

to their final peril




how my stimulation arouses your pleasure

points, and causes your body to rise

and fall, with each push, a moaning cry

of pain, of sensual satisfaction

Losing senses in a myriad of love, addition by subtraction

I grope, you gape

and writhe in sweet pain as I annihilate

every inch of your delicious skin

against the wall I have you pinned