Poetographie

when I write
I
do not think
of
you

i hate
pain
but
I'm writing
it

you are
my Poetry,
my world of
abstraction-

i do not
tell you everything-
(that's when you
forget to ask)

This is me-

i write everything in
my Poetry,
all the words
the lines
and the curves

yet
it's not my duty
to tell you
(you are not my master-
not even my slave)

my body-
my poetry

i offer these all to you--

(to my
Apollo,
and my
Aphrodite)

Write those words
(apple,
boy,
cat
and dog)

Wipe those words
(with
eraser or
tissue paper)

Write
and wipe

(Live
To
Die)

There
Is no death
In silence

Go on--
Write everything
From E-Z
(name what's lacking,
Scribble,
Never miss a thing)

Live.
Write.

Until
The judge
pounds
his gavel--

imprisons
You
to death

And to the screaming
Silence.

I puffed
And I coughed

I coughed
it was tough

It was tough
It was rough

It was rough
And I laughed

I laughed
And I hopped

I hopped
And I stopped

I stopped

And there was a cloud of smoke

Dancing before me

It imitated me:

It coughed,
It laughed
And
It stopped

There was the cigarette butt,
its smoke
and Its soul-
Smoothly vanishing
Undulating toward the absence.

A thought is dead
when it is left
unsaid

so better tell it now
what, where
and how

did i put
my thought,
was I caught
dead?

a red balloon
freed toward the azure-
a dot in the sky

its color,
a momentary joy
darkened

in an instant
the red balloon
vanished

like any other
fleeting
circumstance

It died.
and the color?

the purest
of the azure

*for Star. Art*

Don't
write like Dickinson
Don't
dance like a ballerina
Don't
cry like a cat
Don't
argue like a lawyer

... stop screaming
you are not a blank page
... stop tiptoeing
you are not a thief
... stop whining
you are not a convict
... stop complaining
you are not a patient

afterall,
Dickinson is not a blank page
a ballerina is not a thief
a cat is not a convict
and most of all,
a court
is not a hospital.