At first

it was folly.

Imagine a body–


with gums,

beet red

and eyes–the

uneven stars

of an

indigo night.



A summary

of little fictions:

a toe

quite heavy;

a finger

perfectly dense;

a soul

intensely loved–

a limitless

ceiling of

collected best

scrawled on

your belly.



I remember

I saw

the universe

peeking from

the swaddles–

curious and


each breath

a pound of

my heart;

each sound

a song of

life’s gavel.



By thought,

you’re a long-shot:

a rainbow gently

ending on this lap–

a skirt of patchwork

torn before–

empty and void.

This, your

cub’s nest

of gathered

twigs and hay,

I’ve spun

into gold.



I’ll house

your brightness,

your infinity,

your thunder.

You’re the

gorge and

the sky.

You’re eternal,

my little

heart-fed pebble.

My dream reel.

My machinery.


Image result for lake and night sky

I’ll chase you down

like one does for a setting sun,


and right here, right now,

as I foam with silence


at the murky mouth,

I can swear, “even if it’s


the last thing I do”.

Just so you know,


the unwanted red came in today–

the sweat unseen,


the reality of your unrealness.

I worshiped the idea of you


in my little noggin’

where you flew your kites;


where your burlap dress billowed;

where you were the womb’s fruit


these past few (prized) days,

but they dragged you away from me.


Those colorful things–

Wretched! Oh, how I hate them


for pulling us apart.

I’ll chase you still, though


just as I have promised

but for now, I’m a lake


quiet and steady, conversing

with the heavens ahead.


I’ll ask them to care for you

as I reflect these boiling stars–


your shadow, your body.

So hush my darling.


Rest your heart.

Dot the yonder Milky Way.








an empty vessel

aimlessly dancing

to the tune of

a tempest

knots undid

sails bared

gray and nothing

obituaries abound

waiting for its

gilded body and

tin foil anchor

to give up the fight

to tire and sleep

on the beds below

sand blankets and

black cushions

lulled by the sea

the barren bulk

keeps fighting its

fainting lids

and fading varnish

such a lovely eulogy

of deranged resilience

for a bosom

wooden and broken











Image result for abuse abstract art

He salivated.
Wearing a woolen armor
and crimson lenses

that leaked caustic juices,
a picture of pain pinned on his face–
illuminated by the silver cutlery

and the golden candelabra.
Rabid with joy
as he scampered to pull

the persian from underneath
his nude craving–
a princess-turned-goner–

an hourglass of nectar, with his
roots, “my foot will surely anchor
her”, he chuckled to himself.

He shivered with excitement
as she bled the last drops of innocence
and kissed his gaping mouth

(what a rotten nest!)–
He’s feverish with delight–
about to eat a rosy piece–

a healthy chunk
cleaved by empty spaces
carved by dreaded truths,

perfected by imperfections.
He licked her aquiline pride,
sniffed the little piggies,

and bit her belly–
it was a marriage of her
skin and his tooth

and the
hallowed birth of
their blistered minds.

**artwork: N.E. Perkins**




Throw your fears away!

Their truths. Your lies.

Out onto the starry sky!

Out onto the open blue!

The body politic–

Whitman’s amorphous electric–

With hallowed names

Dressed in gold and all–

Swallows the blood.

Drinks the sins.

Chews thy crazy minds.

Your shoulders–

Gargoyles’ nests–

Empty them.

Libertine bells will sing

Ding! dong! ding!

to celebrate each

twitch and itch

of awakening skins

inflamed to burst and bloom

for the end finally stood for a portrait–

museums are craving it with

watering mouths. So

Surrender your fiends

From those pockets, my darlings.

Sniff and lick

the beauty of freedom.



artwork by anonymous artist



Mga Kaluluwang Alikabok


mga kaluluwang alikabok

balot ng itim na kumot

mga ukit na numero

pumipila sa hurnuhan

sa ulayaw at tayog ng usok

kaladkad ang paang bakal

umaawit sa takip-silim

masisikip na batong silid

ang pulang bituka ng

bakurang karayom

at ang mga matang sumasayaw

sa mga ulong naninigas

sa isang langhap

anino na lang ang larawan

dahil sa ‘sang ¬†gabing makidlat

sa loob ng tatlong oras

anyong-abo, anyong-abo

iidlip sa matinik na lupa