Roses

The roses of July
Are so pretty
A pretty good problem
To be 
This beautiful
Insanely fragile
Yet beautiful
Helen's face I can see 
Roses in July
Just so pretty
Beautiful, a maiden robed 
Our own reflections. 

Divine Plan

Heaven's fiery ash 
My new found isle of Poppies
 Little big enough 
For a magic maker 
A big believer, A winner 
The earthly paradise of 
Golden paradigm 
My heavenly fire of sea scapes 
The Supernatural benused art 
We call her a religion
A religious art 
Divinely separated truly for the best 
She's our heaven 
A little butterfly
A  white tale 
No She's a divine plan
Rightly suited. 

Peace.

For Peace comes slow
A sudden birth 
Unexpected win 
Balms your soul
A royal blue impish touch 
Sometimes
A hurricane 
It just
Soothes
For Peace comes slowly
More difficult
Than Love
Loving One 
Each breathing 
Each Eyelashes
It is private
A fine jewel
Must be hidden 
Kept 
Under your shirt 
For peace is precious
Than Love 
Itself. 

Pink

I have heard Paris is beautiful in May
Two lost cards that find
A perfect geometric strength
It then carves a niche 
Mon Amor it says that always says 
Pink is loveliest of all
Beautiful Strange Goodness
Colours have their own homes too
Just as my paper knife 
A little too pink for it 
Isn't so? 
A child may notice
Children notice everything
A change in smile
They are the big apples 
Do this do that 
We are grown ups 
Still pink is loveliest of all
Home Goodness Flowers 
I still think Paris is most beautiful in May 
The ribboned dress 
The little paper towns 
They all go to a merry go round
All pinkish flame in the snowbound home
I still love Pink
My home my mon amor. 

Universal

Tabloids on the east side 
I keep looking at the mirror
It knows
How things work
The atoms of the human soul
An incense of intention
It keeps buzzing 
In my head 
The heads and tails of things 
A silvery paws 
Un femme 
A Red Cross on my bosom 
Innuendos everywhere
It touches with God's mysteries
I keep chanting Him
The unnameable divine light
Above heads
The mirror knows
How things work
A silver spoon
Uni verse. 

White

The morning June
Everything is White
I smell of fresh Roses. 
Jasmine white lotus
That bloom in jannah
Everything pours in 
Angelic substances
White sepulchral lights
Divine madness
Angelic frequency
June is my very existence
Green then white
Blue then oblivion
The morning is pure 
A white lotus
I smell of fresh Roses

Parrots estate to Eden’s Paradiso


Mornings a bemused lullaby
Today’s muse is God itself
Eden Los Angeles Calcutta Brooklyn
He showered his gifts plenty
Mavericks are born out of thorns
He knew he knitted his warm blankets
Precisely a coin folded butchered mastery
Slavery's independence Russia's green flagged
Sadomasochism
No I don’t write about Nations
Politics too costly for God’s sake
Purity is noble
It’s simple
A retreat in God’s ambush
Learn Art if you reached God
A soothing palette
Beyond Borderlines
Learn Art in God’s precious hands
Earth In Eden’s palette.