Poem a day drafts 39-46 (Portraits 1-7)

Human’s gate to heaven

sits atop carved trunk

with elephantine snouts seeking

joy stick retribution  a sombre moment

with three of your kin  64 pixels

on your back  carry a heavy

load up the ammunition 

with a warm face  a trace of

gun powder promise in the air

you salivate an explosive

toggling your mind

reflecting expectations

Sound & Light

Round is a polite shape

to learn  to recite  to birth

mistakes

See  de

mons escape  Allow

heaven to read them

like 

a needlepoint  penning 

the bible  like

a fractured voice  learning

to use language

The Unemployed

craftsman  sportsman

bashed by how you are

remembered  empty  calories

consumed by sensual appetite

ah c’était bon  mon amour

ton allure sur le sol  l’étage 

recite to me your promise

to not keep a promise

whilst you drip your

water color lust

atop your bed 

I can’t stop seeing

Me

You

Me

You

in the mirror

He

She

They

All manner of

manifest 

self

Fingerprick

molecular bricks  laying

ashen upon table

sous le sable qui en voie

harkenings of the OUCH

Spiney leaves  me behind

in the store bought soil

digging around for  whored

out oil y skin  akin & atune

FINELY tuned whisker plants

revealing  beneath shade 

I am not the maid

February births gusts of color

An orchestra hangs

from wires

twelve sheets

none as primary as 

the last wind blown

through

Can you see March

Can you remember the

future Aprils & Mays

Our beasts tied to strings riding 

the joy  buoyant  billows

I can hold (the world)

your love  in loafs  I

can crunch the eccentricity &

idiosyncronisity  A symphony of

crackle  Can you believe we’ve

been baking for nearly 12 months

I am proud of the folding  I adore 

each ingredient  gradient  torchlit

fluttering cocoon  vespertine surprise

If I could  I would  & since I will

HOLD STILL  fast  Let me trickle

my love across  your mantle  crust