Black In White

Black In White

poems by leum

Without whiteout, glasshouse blues pulse my dear tomorrow tierra grayscale soliloquy free this ink singsong South Florida Mirage Lluvia Seca Negro Blanco Letras meditating between an infinity adiรณs paramount medianoche core jury full eyes godspeed rush hour ciudad, teacup Here my heart whistles the primordial silence. Isla Blanca Negra All day you are today tobacco chartered vignettes. generic genesis crepuscular o i, el la

for Luciana

Without whiteout, you cast iron onto stone but forget you’re of bone si soy y que conjugation do you hold in your hand of dissimilation bound in fortitude within fountain roses an exact monochrome blackout DUI towns drink of numbers won & too & we and they the most loved hated maybe in a world without maybes.

glasshouse blues mandolin mansion macbook chasing the invisible and but no crossing the line one way segue ever to ever sorry lucky desecration wrote cold howl divine entangled jungle botanical bulldozer crane flamingo syrup pardons buena visa park studio seminar visits archipelago heist nomenclature blemishes miniature carbons a mute stasis in gross innocence my shortcut yours here there goes carrying carrots and there here stays dropping carpets for mad telly edits of the same preview commercial edict filling green-rooms with tigers eyeing elephants

pulse midnight pause the breath in each footstep staircase to light beam lyric wiped from the chalkboard damn said every night a tree begging to be uprooted to Econlockhatchee el mundo mareado lacrossed kayaking begrudgingly to not look at you my bonsai darling little hurts on a sprinkle doll snow freefall blizzard in defeating truth you have forgotten to blink cada palabra cada dicho todo con agua la vida el maiz mezclada con agua contratando las islas salvajes cada letra mandado esperando estar abierto and so with agonized teeth playing their part time reductionist industrious ingratiated apollo oligopoly interface not for sale and mine a tutelage diaspora we named our children black and white and watched them rip all technicolors grey while the metronome play button records a comedy tragedy ’93 Subaru abandoned on a median of Orange Avenue

my dear Understand, I can't pay attention, this is so much more important, the light creaking through the church stained glass door window I have become accustomed to smoking wishes out of a stairwell Hollywood railway tube oven lightbulb tunnel actually a father & his son playing chess on a Disney park bench for ever the candle moment but it doesn't matter anymore how I don't ever know much what it is not to be a sinner because I rub ice on my eyes except after crying too much before saying goodbye and everything painting feathers and everything and everything bleeding amber and everything and every letter a toy storytime car and every number a barcode sugar snow ball and everyone the same couple of persons given too few choices and every fable an IKEA chair at a long Wonderland table and every garden a Google Tron city with a plethora of irises saying the same damn toothless aloha ant thing at once how you are a flower on a mountain holding the wind in your petals untouched by the fingers of tomorrow.

tomorrow tierra Sensible delectables talking deduction narwhal nonsense poetry and that atrophying penumbra siamese Seuss sets sail wishing wells with wavelets and you I the moon like a skull the sun wears seating musical ballads in a checkered war y por quĂŠ no hablamos mĂĄs del mar.

This is all so apropos of to if for with I from stop careful bus incorporated facsimile of decimals in deca beta decibels.

They set our house on fire, a java suite of pedestrians MK ULTRA crow casualties.

In hating a swan, you have become a dove.

Lovebugs on a bus windshield over the fence our soul in a room in a house somewhere else and night going to day, and night going to day, red light curtain tree city blues my horns brushing my halo you gingerbread monster cookie man.

grayscale soliloquy a satiable topic discussed amongst an insatiable demographic I regret to inform you it is a simple matter late conversation barcode leaf swaying with hurricane highway wind nautical turbines clicking right now after later before then first and I second vitriol consensus Venus census down the toilet put on standing ovation trial pushed to its hydraulic threshold I walk into the fire to become the air I breathe the constant monologue with the mirror on the wall of my hands green acres decorated with black & white lines all across the countryside America is this smoking lies from a pipe climbing the tallest mountain I left behind

free this ink A lullaby alibi, an allegory allegation and but you a regal repertoire, a roundabout rendezvous reservoir what and I countries and tour I and some I and but she’s and he’s.

How now the moon eats her stars to get full once more, the sun shedding his skin.

Suburbs separated by golf courses, poolsides, I’s and you’s.

Hablamos normal con el dinero, pero nuestros manos cortan los labios del oceano.

Dust a canvas, we the paint the Eiffel tower ballpoint pen writes in ink amidst static under the glow of the candle held by the Statue of Liberty.

singsong Morning duck benedictions served in churchyard soup. None is one bent and connected. The last enjambed accent marked word of this foot is stressed. A life against mine should not be dealt with, says the ocean. A poem is a hill in my eyes, says the sun.

Trumps keep picking at history's toothpick towers for organic origami.

The awakened sit atop a lonely billboard, billions of hungry hands grabbing each other's tongues below. Stain for me the titans.

Nothing notes what nothing's. All my friends are ABC's.

All you are is 123.

South Florida Mirage The bluejay paradise paradigm with a dime of dice dragging dragonflies chasing the yellow butterflies away like wet dogs running from orange towels.

A painted turtle and three white geese begging, nagging for day-old bread.

Farm fish not holding still for a photograph frantically asking the glass bowl for more air.

A pearl plexus under the black of a red sun.

Lluvia Seca for Haida Morales Pervasive, the world is, with its tariff teeth.

La lluvia te seca, alejándote del mar.

En otra vida, quisiera comerte, hasta el hueso.

An economic agenda, my lips, your china.

Para vos, te traigo té.

For what we last did those two scores ago?

I still ain't buying that rock of mine.

Mi ángel grisado y San Miguel conmigo.

What's happened in a movie just a door away.

Entra, te mato, y te lavo algo.

La razón razonable de cualquier ducha.

Scene changing the topic, same difference.

Espero que no me dejes con el peso de tu vida.

Have I not given skin pellets to the town bank?

I’ve already screamed my lost away.

Ahora me cuesta llevarte colgado a mis rodillas.

Gray tint plates of red blue green ink palettes.

Más te vale que no llevas lo que no quieras.

Hay mucha de la luna que no has pisado.

Adam alone divined symbiosis patterns.

La lluvia se quema con las lágrimas del cielo.

Grief is the water dispenser at my old office.

Windows barred, goat blood marked doors.

El mayúsculo y la minúscula bailan anillado.

That photographer bookmarks this moment.

El amor está hecho estacando cruces de oro.

La tentación se hace torturando al fondo.

He takes up space, and she the effort.

La lluvia negra y la nube blanca nos besan.

All that we carry in the sounds of our blows.

She left the car crash to visit my grandmother.

Rezamos que ella llegó rellena de la piedad.

Deep our skeletons shed cloudless nebulae.

Me adelantaste en la ruta real relativa.

TodavĂ­a vas recogiendo tus uĂąas mordidas.

And I bathing my guitar in a cold bank of tears.

Negro Blanco Letras Voodoo buddhist wet witch hunt Somos ladrones sin cuentas de banco Jaywalking unreposed posits of rough drafts Batidora de bocinas tomado por el tostador Recién rechazado Disneyfied dream diaries A sentimental proclamation desde cuando, hasta cuando Letting the rich itch masticando el cielo Un crepúsculo road de aquí to Rome Ruega sin inferior levels our daily breath With marginalized swift voiceless favor For downsizing the commute a la obra Que la cobra borra con plena actitud mortal The ravine oasis of each Osiris Isis pupil pool Houses of apple trees shapeshifting into stumps I cannot look at you and I at once finalmente Sun patches on the foothills de los Andes Forgive me, gray iris, for I have not sinned enough You said I could love you tomorrow but It's constantly today and yesterday never happened Bet and Aleph arguing over what came next En el idioma de las estrellas

meditating volition aka Gb I salutations to impotent omnipotence and its none the nonviolent omnipresence with stakes in each draw of the hand-plan palm readings of Lorca and Neruda.

between an infinity a flying high kite flea market circus a city between two rains. between your eyes and mine lies an infinity. so sorry I need love forever morrow, not today sans tomorrow. and avarice in vitro demarcating whatever makes the constant barking. and height-wise in depth we all leave, most not saying bye. and rhetorical megalomania the natural selection in each question. and between our pointing fingers sit the troubled with butterfly wings.

adiรณs paramount medianoche core tomorrow too, tonight new the moon, heart heavy cement brick balanced on a lofty wooden stick today not, tomorrow no mal, pero normal lo que dicen las olas en Isla Negra, donde te pica el viento too, tonight yesterday telling after it's told what happens once the story ends, the kids tucked in their beds today, not yesterday como clientes de la tierra, pagando con el plรกstico, con el humo de nuestras bocas.

jury full eyes and I say I was going to go but I said I never went in ever and even so in your portrait is it the sunrise or the sunset I can’t tell which is which a sea of lies feasting on my skin or the negative of tarnished photoshoots given names of forgotten colorwheels I misplaced when taken by mistakes weighed to a wing of nailplucked dove feathers.

godspeed rush hour But that which I love, knotted heart-shaped strings eating themselves alive four male chairs around a female table in close discussion with androgynous water filling a man’s cup drank by a woman's lips leaves leave behind with rose red strips the moist mist dew, a myth for spirits a blink for you.

ciudad, teacup Yo conozco mis cucarachas, la una a la otra.

The disposition of your meters, my inches.

The devolution of unlimited limitations to loophole wormholes. The spectrum debates among my father’s tools & his toolshed. Fingers crossed, the day & its moon write the last word of the alphabet across the sky's & my mother’s eyes.

Los ríos de la lluvia caminan encima de las calles pulcras, es decir how two shadows on my shoulders bicker about passover past lovers.

Here my heart whistles the primordial silence.

Here my heart bleeds gold for the road to drink.

And what do you do for the living no more than pay for the dead's breathless respect.

Y más encima, no tienes cuello para sostener la billetera que contiene los cuellos de otros.

Perro dormilón, se supone que eso es lo requerido de cualquier fecha de vencimiento.

Even calling Cezanne's flushed key brushstrokes either a tree, a sea or the ceiling is blessing too the primordial movement.

Como si fueras el lobo comiéndose sus patas.

Do not sully the film score script paradox with an influx of whispering whistles.

Silence only feeds silence. Listen, a cacophony of ravens drowning in the moon’s tears.

Isla Blanca Negra Mírate en el espejo de tus ojos.

El metáforo visto por mis dedos.

Viva la roca the seagull sits on viendo los pajaros del mar pasar over the sea, below the clouds breathing trees of maple leaf life dirigido por la brisa a caminar sobre las piernas de las piedras to reach before the snails do what lighthouse flickers beyond the horizon, ni te atreves quitar my lives I exhale closing my eyes.

The wind must be beautiful to your feather skin, eating your mouth encerrado en la cabana de marisco escuchando lo que la lluvia gritaba escribiendo en tu tabla de mar en verde para las letras, en lila para las poemas, tus versos litorales, tus despedidas hornadas.

Y ahí más lejos de la isla de símiles, la grocería hechizando una maldición para la verguenza, lo culpable de tener stars in the oceanfront glued by dark waves.

All day you are today tobacco chartered vignettes.

All day you are today forests, lighters, cigarettes and bowls to keep the poor hungry, como lo explico, give me a high-five, a bed, then after your head, hand me the box of plums you so desire to decay y mira este paĂ­s, and blind that country with its Red Sox rock hard knock lock socks off smoking flowers the old-fashioned Camel way por ejemplo, fuck you & your name the reflection of an amethyst magnolia sea Paco keeps skinning into his Lucero acoustic tree.

generic genesis So many many's dragging all of the all's out of nothing's of nothing.

The sun and moon crossing unkempt perturbed of dilligences pulled up to be picked down in the super footloose side of uptown.

My diamond heart, your heart of iron.

Me, a minimalist cathedral.

You, an unwritten will of oceans saying goodbye to freightliner cargo ships.

My nails, a cab of glitches.

Your automata, a millennium of genes.

My secant of seconds wrapped in wretches.

Your inability to produce adequate responses during the normative standardized inquisition.

My city of pigeons, your prison of vultures.

My your's, your mine's.

Your mountains and mountains of gold, my precarious precautious antidote attitude.

Like the regiment requisites of being today.

As careful as flattened sharpened umbilical cords of chords.

An assessment of asides sliding slithe in respective stockmarket slides.

You & I moan the same contraband pollution.

None of us eye the same god.

crepuscular Chirruping, twittering, squawking redactions, car alarms, firetrucks, police sirens, day positive, night negative, dusk dawn neutral that I am well aware of b/c w/ w/e w/o w/in I think and I think and I think crippling diacopes and last but not least, and least of all my crumbling sarcophagus the tree stands, and the tree sits the marble sidewalks and bronze buildings I step on one over the other outliving the counterpoint architecture the laurel apostle sculptors modernized but I regress, your love for a world without me takes me back to someplace else, a map I constantly digress and dare I tusk my love away, a funny way of showing rustic rouge risk after the break, election poll results a minor setback to the real thing, a slave shaking hands with the slaveholder another year offshoring timeless shorelines.

We the people stuck in the sidelines.

I and my many eyes devoid of night blue cloud skies. And tonight I devour just you my lawfully wedded sins but so because with whatever without within an acrostic onerous spanish ballad sways a beach of black rocks carved by the tide to look a little more like twilight eyes swallowing the rocks of other eyes.

In my haste to describe you in synonyms of antonyms, I forget the chapter there we first met, our ink still soul red, not unlike this dark black we constantly scribble on the walls, all these formidable steel animals coughing up extinction

and yet the world turns the word I was first taught crossing the toll troll bridge into an alleyway avenue ahead to the vowel full moon.

I've always written you into constant consonance of divulgatory statements. Now, I close the book.

o i, your pyramids—gorgeous, time more precious when discounted. o night, you damned good view with without the streetlights downtown. o worshiped sun of high, you have brought an umbrella to a desert before an audience, chronicle thunder mumbling raindrops pattering metal drizzling books with eyeshadow, a jade wraith legion of powerplants at your disposal smoking up clearance disposable stalemate graverobbing havana club cigars. o luego, lograr crecer mis alas de nuevo. trees losing sight of their own leaves la caja decepcionada decepciona the art of sushi the best art your brother calling you Pablo. the cat saying open the window before it happens, dripping sentient sweat on a crippled platter anyone's guess to who fell first. o i, fissure of ironic verse. you barrel-age well still the same writing your name down before else an idiom exclusivity propagates furthermore freight chiasmus propaganda minus tentative undiscussed traction plus wild west wine.

el la Hemoglobin relic of apotheosis reincarnation si puedes, compra mi sueño a veces a cat dog fox bear wolf lion appears al principio, Elohim creó el myrtle hair strand vein vine from Jericho to Jerusalem ahora buscando cargando terminando esta campaña agarra here por now my hands' eyes closed while praying en un red de telas anciano roundtable plants guarding a seed's awakening entre la montaña y el valle grande a red dragonfly asking a map for more sap asap los tres viejos reyes pintando La Pintana an aubade remembers more than its hung letters cantado en el cielo, los angeles contando las estrellas sometimes, peace must resist desiccation cuando tocas las cuerdas en camino a ella.

blanco en negro

poems by leum

somedays sway the day away out derelict valley before we touch shore para our rose fall dark eve o sino por que Attention, the horizon sea draws in its own wake. sensei We the dead angels with vines Some sleep. Deliverance delivered. Ahora esperar. Simรณn Says Quiero nadar en las hojas de la luna. and but or parable whisper ileso adentro de la estatua temporary tempo preguntas primaveras diorama drama trepid terminals thank intrepid tyranny tapeworm serenity wrinkle mirror sequence yaxche tree ceremony I & I am everlasting day dynasty blue red strobe lightshow glimpse bipartisanship he then bubbled in sorrys ella, escrito, borrado

for Alyoma

somedays somedays the clouds tell me the color of your eyes and which stars have been graced with seeing them. other days, your dreams are whispered by the trees and in mine, the wind sits down on a chair with a fable on its lap ready to speak the many lives our hands have danced. you remember only when you close your eyes, wishing the roots of night a belated good morning. some days ago, storms shuddered at the silence of the birds. some years ago, the months discussed the last day seconds before dawn.

sway the day away The trees sway the day away, and night is brought upon as a cloth by the talons of indefinite birds, butterflies speak each name goodnight, and the bats begin their hunt, so it goes and woes, lo and behold, with no fold but its own sold terraces, their undermining nature a sarcophagus for its inhabitants, so it knows no end, just a different set of inherent wheels to slowly turn the quickening pace.

out My days now consist of you and you and you.

An iron cobalt fishing hook coming out of my right left outlet.

Let me explain how you are in every set of eyes I touch with my fingernail blush husky knuckle cherry lipstick, my livestock sheep beyond the perky luck duck weather, I want to sing you into holographic magnified paint drawings, the sun outside your window, the moon inside my room, ready enough for you porchlight trapped in my spiderweb, ancient turtle eating me alive, cause why not shut me out by the eyesocket down to my dirty knees scratching off a mount stretching the stars apart pushing ions in a cart to the one oh one year-round satellite simulation orbital glitching around a rainbow supercluster of a nightlight aurora diamond ring of midnight burgundy suns as birds and words work in cohorts mimicking the children of laughter, your verse sings O Guardian, question my corrupt without apology with regards to storks & vultures at my side & how Babels toppled like lego brick like trade surgarcoating Rainmen in all acrylic crystal coral splendors.

derelict valley My permeances, my stratified rarities what you have shown me the sky never would.

My heart is a jewel in my chest pocket light as a paper mache blanket, black as the black of a mountain. I'm both English and your native language in Agricola prosthetic narcotic cosmetic comics.

Ahora el sol sale, a la hora el sol sabe.

Prismatic quartz pendulum key card drive necessary for linking ruby eyes to sapphires.

What dark blue opal trance aquarium swam.

Que fuerza de espíritu, la esperanza completa.

The dollar sign plans slashed by the lines between you and I. Meeting with Genesis once more con lo que la lluvia debe decir.

Letters and numbers working together against each other.

Todo lo contrario de ver un bosque desnudo.

As a vampire, I haven't given much thought to the hungry worm that eats the word I start and end my sentences with.

El ciclo del fuego comiéndose lo ahogado aleatoriamente cada cién años de madrugadas.

Eat the torch-made divine salivating beast underneath antes que te coman la luna.

before we touch shore Locomotive corporeal cavern unlit by the sun, Welcome, and excuse my body language Conviction my forefathers gifted me Red of health and white of blood.

Before we talk bread and wine, Ask me why I give thanks whenever Las moscas me devuelven mis hongos.

A midnight treasured heirloom curse Only in days I forget your name.

A crown of coaster snails A mouth full of rocks.

A sunset day painting a message in a bottle.

My ears used to the tunes of your blues.

Me gustaría verte en la oscuridad del día, Leer lo que tus ojos escriben Pegado a la puerta sin las llaves Mediando la escena de la última cena.

Llegamos con los pájaros, aparecemos Tal como las piezas creciente de edificios, Y al final, solamente los fantasmas hablan Involucrados con ángeles fugosas, Green bean acres and navy blue jean deities Dealing endgame blank cards and highlighting White the hands of cliff hill mountains.

But you are God, you cannot come down.

para Para desayuno, tenemos puñas de abejas para mojar los ojos mieles del otoño.

I know you have trouble sleeping at night.

Para almuerzo, no te olvides conseguir bolsas con pan y pescado caseros.

If you need me, ask for the robin.

Para la cena la cual duermas después debe respirar la cédula de números en tus manos dispuestos sobre la mesa.

Not late.

our rose for Julia What's the fun in loving if all you're doing is dying at the peak of the moon writing our lyrics down. If not you, then who counts my stars falling like pink daisy blossoms, our days not matching up whatsoever with the gregorian calendar. There's a white rose world inside your eyes I just haven't been to yet. You are letting me go peeling that rose.

fall dark eve for Julia How blessed it is to be bird or fish.

How bittersweet bliss to be forgotten.

You are summer dust, and I am but a spring speckle of springs.

How little is nothing, something familiar?

A shadow within a shadow.

It is forever dusk, and you are daylight dawn turning weeks into machines.

So my champion beauty with your evenings, la pasarela rota y tumbado en Ruta 5 desde sus semillas, para la pachamama we have the city verse the country, our ends touching, it would be nice, the glow of the sun over us.

That's a nice sweet tittle ya got there, mind if I pour you some honey on that bandaid, I'll make it worth your hot wire transfer.

The blueberry weeks are much too uncertain to say in hesitation I will see you again.

You hold butterflies and pyramids in the palm of your hands penning cursive a psalm.

Líbrame de la definición de los hecho de mis palabras con un reflejo entremedio.

You have battered my door long enough with your horns, nails and hammer hooves.

You've been drowning me with your rain swamped oceans of clouds without drought.

Now it's too many a spite to count con un inquietud en mis zarcillos de monedas.

You begin once more and more the days tossing and turning nights around like soup.

I don't complain, I raise my union flag.

You dug a hole into my name and now I can't find the right screws.

Qué podrida cosa es esta cortando con un cuchillo la madera.

Muévete y déjame, que puedo.

I commemorate you heavily, heavenly.

I seem not to stop picking out the roses.

Sí, la rosa pintada me manda cartones de poemas localizado por colores astrales.

Sí, la rosa pintada me da vueltas en los parques.

Pebbles told my river & cattle the day I died when & where I was to get picked up.

Maybe we have in another life due questions marking what the sky says with its quill, a nighttime streetlight counting the stars till we meet, oh have you so sweet, and oh no, I can only wish to hold you in each second I catch and catch the tears of high away to only grab my soil in an hourglass and send the bottle to you with the waves.

Y si me brindas con un café helado?

Darling, I rule this inflated red balloon.

I danced with the night and the moon pulled on my country blanket.

And I am just me and it all makes me so spoiled.

And I've been here before, a black horse dragon swimming into a manta ray dreamscape in a web of cornerstones, the ranger on a moonstone calling out the boogeyman for one more tug.

When I met you, I was already old.

I, too, carried unpainted a thorned bandana round my eyes thinking about you with the moon.

Look how quickly I let go of the sun: exes and oh’s.

Go on, grab my hand, I want to show you a place I've never been before, my heart the tripple A battery you simply replaced.

o sino for Julia O yes & no, O fate tugging on the eyebrows of the sky.

Imagínate un Chile gobernado por la unión común de taxistas. Imagínate América descubierto no por conquistadores, pero de un conocimiento falaciado de poetas indígenas. And just agree, we live in different words of the dictionary only with contemporary constellations.

I want to see your stars now wherever I am, but the clouds are heavy tonight with dissertations. Or so I paint myself a wonderful rowboat to drink the eyes of the sea, and I suffer silent amongst the reeds of our too caring, breathing in nubilous twinkles of yesteryear.

por The moon is a streetlight en aquella cuadra del centro.

All our souls in a rose petal cayendo del jardín de sueños.

And I, why—and you, because el sagrado corazón te cuelga abrazado.

And I wait for you gray at the station temblando del frío en mis raíces sin tono.

One late morning under a feather tree estoy despierto un esclavo encima del techo.

I forget from where and of which kind mi corazón me habla desde el fondo del hondo.

que el sueño me da sueño for what why because can should is and will be not to say what not to say from whatever to whatever neither beginning nor ending the sun with its many moons playing guitar to a mill of stars tomorrow today & the next day reserved of what if’s and then’s for to and on in at from out when your eye’s needles prickle my skin.

Attention, the horizon sea draws in its own wake.

Simply walking the halls of forbearing attrition Gives me a hundred epiphanies counting closely The stardust glow of fireflies in the unmarked woods Or your all hidden, written bearing weight of a soul From my dirty rot spit bloomed patches of sunflowers How sometimes I become someone I know not myself, Many fallen petals grasping the trunk of a tree.

I've already bled out the poems I needed to bless.

Orange dragons of traffic flow from my very eyes.

I read under a sky the ground I will step on like The Maipo mountain Zorro fox hunting hungry eyes.

The sun leaves me like she always does, and every Book of questions is finally answered all at once.

sensei The fool above and below the world Mad men in suits drenched in blue blood And be I not ignorance nor contempt, my word is monotone but it's okay, doll— even devils have their reasoning when chucking office street flies and copper carbon charcoal house floor tiles without an inchworm centimeter over the fence to Saint Miami's Mother of our Redeemer eventual future church parking lot between backyard basketball sessions after elementary school before having a baby and joining the Navy so, there's no sense in making sense when lost are my senses falling on a jog through providence bruising my Mama's head, shoulders, knees and toes.

A year filled with many unfinished blue couplets In the rapport between the sky and sea Minding the banter of windmills and lighthouses.

Then a million years of agony, we sparkles of sand shells running through the hands of the great beyond making our way back to the millionth breath taken.

You are here, a white sun on a black cityscape with all that remains, a chest chock full of skulls and eyes that've never seen the light of day yet, a comma what separates the night from I and my many you's.

We the dead reciprocated and said sadly, I keep my eyes open, you close them by and by, a city park staring at its details off rollercoaster riverside playground slides and hopscotch with scotch on the rocks I last forever just lost in the weather forecast, watching a buck scratch off my soul down to the last quarter always looking for a mirror acting the plaintiff through & through in front of a vending machine of choices picking out the prettiest and brightest colors you always chose to be monochrome because I said too much, I don't love you enough, your eyes blink out amber oceans and the palm tree commotion is not loud enough to answer, nothing between us but dreams and fantasies that span lightyears and centuries to get through, the milky way table made of spruced up cedar you carved from banks and shores found at the end of the world we footprint our eyes in daily, weekly, monthly, yearly, hourly working our way up a steep pyramid of rain puddles drank by divine birds jumping off leafless trees I see and I see in you drinking time away, too few drops left to give back.

angels with vines How was I to say what the bird chirped away halfway through the day thinking about you.

I don’t know what you see when the sun first sets and the dirt roads match the rings under your eyes.

We have become the very ant piles we step on.

Mi amor, no llegues con armas si no estĂĄn escondidas.

What can I do when the streetlights turn their haloes into spotlights all around you.

And where is it safe to send you carrier pigeons with dead muses hanging by their talons.

We have become the very ash trays we toss and wipe.

Mi amor, no me traes el plato sin algo de comer.

And where else would you go without relatives in my briefcases tossing obscenities and bureaucracies.

I can't understand how we turn a thousand nights into dust and see it all without witness.

We have become a small town unaware of its secrets.

Mi amor, no me dejes con palabras tan rojas a lo normal.

Some sleep.

My love, some of us live for the dreams we sleep.

Some of us fly to the sky or use a ladder.

There's stairs somewhere, and even an escalator.

Some of us go down under with our own shovels.

Even Hitler's there again roasted by the Jews.

Some of us walk in circles around a sĂŠance of clothes.

Some of us roll up the daily newspaper into a bat and hit our wives with it, then our grandchildren.

Some of us die for the fortunate moment of hands.

Some of us tend to placate our wounds with rubber.

Some of us commend the smell of gasoline rubble.

The stairs are gone, we must climb with our eyes.

Some of us lose their feet and drop to their knees.

Some of us count the toes till one of us falls asleep.

Deliverance delivered. Ahora esperar.

A word's endings the riddles to my salvation.

All in all, an infinite invisible.

Time goes on catching falling leaves outside.

Time goes on catching the waves with fishing hooks. I refuse tension with my fathers, Adam, Jesus, Luis.

Me dicen que para entender a Diós, debo reconocer el llanto de la rana.

Me dicen que para escuchar, debo entender.

Me dicen que para encender varios cielos, debo tocar con un violín los pasos retrasados que vuelan una mariposa con las velas de la araña, una noche crepuscular con las alas de la luna; una, una luna, y jamás otra.

Y me digo una oración, me digo a respirar.

And here we are, two cottage windows built side by side sitting across a plant talking pink.

Simón Says for Simon My mother is my priest.

My father is a feather I kept in a black box somewhere.

Look at me like you would the sun at day, not at night when I'm just a reflection.

My sister is a canvas I often draw on enough.

My big brother is the picture I've smudged.

Look at me now, I'm getting the moon for you.

My black white brown cats listen to the birds.

My dog is at a festival sniffing the cheddar.

Look, an earthquake splits a fairytale apart spreading a few churches apart today, & today there's too much of a coincidence in having too many coincidences.

My mother is a pair of birds flaying over my head, a pair of words always watching them, then and again, always watching my blackhead, my whitetail.

My father is the author of a bedtime story I haven’t written yet.

I've already experienced light, my eyes, I know my shortcut back home.

My sister is a tropical island storm current.

My big brother keeps close to each coast.

Padre nuestro, que cantas en el cielo, Madre mía, que lloras para verme una vez más, when I see your memories I wish to paint them a colored hue more shade that would suit the night of the moon.

Look, look over there and see what my hands have done to all the walls shouting my verses at incoming waves.

Quiero nadar en las hojas de la luna.

Under an immense pinecone of a pinetree, my body is made with heartbeats and nothing.

Under an immense limestone on a limetree, my bark is made with habits and misspellings.

Quiero que te sangres sobre mis ojos para que llore todo lo que sangraste.

Quiero que me quitas los labios para que te quedes con lo que te dije con todos mis besos.

Pinetree nothing, immense with misspellings.

Heartbeats made with the bark of habits.

My body under an immense limestone, under my body an immense limetree.

Quiero que te digan mis ojos lo que me quitรณ tus besos.

Quiero que mi sangre llore para quedarme solo con tus besos.

Quiero que mis labios besan a todos.

A city pigeon singing traffic hidden in the web of branches & powerlines.

I dyed a June winter night blue green pink with thirteen uncolored pills under my tongue.

The man you speak to now is not me.

Quiero que sepas las cuadras del cielo de mi ciudad. Quiero que me pages con palos y pesos de suerte a mis dedos.

Quiero que me juzges del infinito al finito.

Quiero que mi patria deje de tomar del veneno.

and but or Always you the I my hands scribble out.

And where and here another whether anywhere a violet Juliet plays dice on rainbows placing bets with rainfall I beg and beg for you to keep while we dangle about a cliffhanger.

My babe a perfect book of poems I'll never finish.

parable whisper para Marcela I can only imagine you in all the colors of fleeting summer breezes.

He vivido los años tal como se parece, debajo la roca con los cangrejos.

Tu corazón se gira amarado a mi espalda, y te encuentras completamente bañado en oro.

Tus sueños son mis amigas cuales me dan palpitaciones alrededor del amanecer a continuación.

My skeleton begs to touch your body clamped naked in the moonlight sonata beginning.

He logrado sostener tu alma con la mía en vez de poner declaraciones prohibidas enfrente del sol.

Te acercas con el cabello azabache contándome parábolas y recuerdos afectados cada vez que me das los ojos de la noche en tus manos.

Plot, big bang, a garden, Newton's apple, fallen stars, and now we sing and bleed.

Tuve la suerte de morir joven dentro de un bosque de ámber.

Estoy dispuesto hablar con el silencio lo que nunca pude decir con un verso.

He notado que no puedo escribir los ríos más bellos de esta vida ya que lo escribiste miles de veces en tu forma de caminar, las lástimas partidas por el deseo de llorar el cielo sobre la tierra.

Loving you was to blame the light of the moon not reaching your full new eyes fast enough.

Y que más puedo decir de tu piel rubia sino la luna fugaz que compone un pirámide con ayuda conductado por la orquestra.

Y de que puedo mentir, del color de tus ojos?

Y de que oscuridad vino la infancia, del vestido negro o blanco eterno?

Y de los angeles que nunca podríamos tocar, cómo lograron la ignorancia total? & these are the seeds that dream a pumpkin patch blinking miracle.

ileso Are you awake the night through, these streets are too loud and I have no body of mine to count and I’m lost in countless thought riding multiple train tracks at once around my eyes surrounded, maybe that’s why we hymn to one another, to make the other feel perpetual thankless and feel more or less at home, and yes, even we have different piùatas and books and music taste, making dialogue we make interesting, and it's all just so interesting breathing nitrogen more than most, but each place has already happened and time is nothing but a space we have learned to see one side of only at only one angle, how we're all bass and hawk sugar dancing the salsa ballroom over and out and have you seen the wind rain pink daisy petals from the sky when the trees are full of dry fog, and what are those lives where your eyes move mine and why are we not more alive when the scenes change and your chair is later mine and we play the musical later when the drinks have rung up their fill trying to catch the dust in this morning sunlight, the balance of black birds in the white sky, and oh how the record whirlwind weather systems can be triggered overnight, and oh there's so much to breathe in, I wish I could make you speak the breadth in each breath

of our dozen seasons where you eat my heart empty with a thousand ways to write a thing yet if only you could teach me to say amen and amen and amen.

adentro de la estatua Vi cómo vió la luna el sol cruzar la frontera para despedirse de la cordillera where he finds, defeated in his return to the sea, a hyacinth cluster reflected in the tide.

Your words bring me voluptuous convulsion for a pleasurable death, como la primera gota de lluvia viendose en la reflexión del río antes de caerse en do mayor, siempre empezando con la orilla, siempre terminando en mi.

Kneeling before you, I have on my body the sum of my bones.

For me, you begin to breathe in heretic glory el aire florecente de las flores de la muerte, las cuales crecen con las lágrimas de la rosa.

Sin embargo, de repente, nos traen las llaves las hormiguitas de los huecos de puertas cerradas, & you're another star in a meadow of wheatgrass shining flowerbeds with a blur of seeds set.

Todavía me ves cuando hablas con el espejo.

Pues, si te vas, mis estrellas van contigo contra las luces de las calles.

Well then, if you must think heavy chalk the cricket's mortality, let down whatsoever my pitcher of sand, I am the one who drops all zenith, I am too the tongue diffused.

Sabes que la luna te tráe al cielo cada noche cuando duermes. Es cierto que debes tomar lo que cáe de los montes si temes a cerrar los ojos. Déjame mirarte, te lo suplico, the silicon skin you wear was made for days without such nights.

Trust me, spiders spruce up their webs to catch the dreams of the unsuspecting buzzing fly, the moth not afraid of the light anymore. I am and I am a mountain the trees climb to the ridgeline, you believe in my absence.

And now I see your voice, schools of whales swimming below my feet talking slow with my shadow.

And now we leave, y quĂŠ dijiste cuando supiste que somos pĂŠtalos en las semillas.

temporary tempo Neverland nevertheless not never you and every word I write has a letter missing you but every letter I send gets ripped up by beaks I have never had the acquaintance of meeting, cats seeing stars at Daytona daylight, dogs seeing stars in our freckled eyes.

You shouldn't believe the amount of times I've had to timestamp your cues, they're much less and much more than what you believe to be exact.

Hi, yes hello, no.

Perhaps I was too ashamed to say yes, perhaps I will never say no.

The humming purr of petaled pearls, the growl that sends the meow away.

An anecdote of certainties, a legend in odes and pastorals.

A burning eye where my heart used to be.

Like my godsend district attorney general forensic lab photography mishap mashup memories of the sun orbiting the moon and you. And you, an invisibility cloak in the museum library of beautiful art snapshots snapped by members of dramatic mafias only.

This is oh so terrible, the paint on the wall not made by my own painted hands.

This is ever so useful, pleasant, requitable elegance in fine legs spread on a pool table white-ball/black-ball matchup that is the thin line to this state-line crossing we find ourselves between.

How fitting, barnacles cutting me to pieces, me to you.

And peace will know no name once found and peace will know no name once found.

And petals dropped

on the walkway to shore, and petals dropped on the walkway to shore.

preguntas primaveras Por qué caminas sola en estas noches sin nombres en estas calles sin luces?

Por qué sigues siendo el único poema que debo leer?

Why can't we kiss forever?

Was it something I said?

Or did you not do enough birdwatching?

Bueno, puedo hablar, o prefieres que no hable? Relájate, si estás aquí conmigo o todo esto sólo era un sueño?

No era Dios quien me dijo eso?

And why so must I begin when you end the Broadway Winter showcase just seconds before my theatrical water fountainhead Spring awakening as if you didn't buy tickets to see me live.

Y a donde estamos en este pasaje para el paisaje encima la enigma de enemigos pasajeros matadores como una junta dentro de la parrilla con paraguas para el humo que se acumula en este valle.

But why does the radio talk fast spanish when I speak in weaves of conferences with my many trees and their leavings.

So what if no one can read sign language with the bees.

Sobre la tópica de la seguridad que contiene el amarillo del tropical, por qué no dan un anillo del sol con cada bendición, ganándonos trigos y escaleras.

Osea, is it una posibilidad de la probabilidad you are reborn in the days of moments diciéndonos como decir con textura I have no pen or sword.

diorama drama Me pongo la luna en un mar de lluvia para verte soñar la tierra enterrado en el cielo.

Me visto un diablo en Los Angeles sólo cuando me caigo en la rodilla para pedirte la mano.

Nos encerramos en las puertas y bocas de las piedras que nos tiramos.

Nos colocamos entre árboles de crédito o débito para llevar las hojas del invierno al otoño en cifras de libros.

Y qué más pudiera decirte sin mis ojos y labios si tuvieras una vez más dormiendo en mis manos.

trepid terminals thank intrepid tyranny A light rabbit wolf howls the dark cries of it: an expulsion of religion.

Pero por qué damos nada después de las gracias cuando yo sólo quise darte todo?

DNA in a speck of sun.

Infinito las páginas de poesía escritos de la tierra con sus manos sucias y sus nubes enflorecidas.

Women hip-deep in a fountain cooing rumors about formality.

El terreno del sol lleno de asesinos del tiempo.

I feel like Samba, a Bossa Nova teal glazed oh so fun, a Calvin Harris single, I know I know you like showers in the sun bright roads to Naples.

Qué el sol ama a cada uno de los propósitos, sólo que el algodón nos cubre de tanto amor: the stars watering the plants.

tapeworm serenity wrinkle mirror sequence This is my prayer, a psalm home A dialogue in currency and debt An interpretation of Mozart

By Bach Conducted by Schoenberg On Kant's keyboard tonic A fatalistic approach on reproachment A word exposed of want I expire my warrants I conclude in my own replacement I verse a tongued dialect of impulses In my contingent sleep stringent on asking What came first, holy songs or honey poems And since then until sincere We couldn't agree on which colored dress to Cut So, well It's all hearts and golden stars from here on Out And sometimes sorry With tireless kiosks that kiss An X on your forehead Right before goodnight goodbyes Welcoming the departing Unopened doors of an unformidable midnight When This is an empire, a whirling city of tombs Where Only then will you know over there Overnight overseas overall How to pay without your own bones As playful collateral doom Befalls Like all love stories without an ending Wiping blood off the lips of paradise.

yaxche tree ceremony for Tatiana Strawberry passion flowers drinking your waxing tea lunar lopsided smiles hooked on the phrases marked on vindictive faces picked up by dragonflies with the help of wasps carried on the backs of bees and frogs meeting on a beach fully clothed in fallen petals to arrive at a house of heaven swimming along the shores of clouds while the windows drink the waves while a divine fire eats at the roots and roofs inside a grandfather clock made of books and rooms intact and staircases crumbling and no tree watching the moon fall down on the hearts of many tired homeless boughs until one of us says I love you and the world explodes.

I & I am everlasting day dynasty The pain is sedimentary, I shape it into clay.

I want to finish my sentences without periods.

I wish to see the roots from your feet wave the bird obscured in the pine trees of the listening moment.

Orange sunsets peeling highway fields.

Where did we sink wildflowers?

Por la media consecuencia constante, alejado, alegre, una vista sincera, controlable y potente, pontificado, considerablemente plano de canto, sanado y contento por toda la ayuda gobernal loose on body count my back is gone, my torso, limbs and toes gone, all that's left's my eyes and shoes.

The fleet of ginger leaves echoing a red cardinal perched, listening on a branch above the slide door backyard to daffodil dandy lions breezing away their manes.

The wonderful world of shade and all things gasoline.

A Russian Sunset Boulevard anything, nothing, something specific counting split moons till next I see you touched.

Felicidades, bienvenidos, saludos sombras y destellos en eternidades breves.

All these stars sleeping on the lawn.

blue red strobe lightshow glimpse When I see you, I see her like the backporch light on a Sunday morning the slim and curved handle holder dividing her statue face today I am born in a blizzard night I'm 5/4 and you're always in 3/4 kissing a dead town speaking to a jury full of stars you've turned into a sheriff badge hunting indian pig camps drooling peppermint sticks & frosted flakes at the sight of flanked black walls you've managed to lose all the citation paper work you've turned out to walk a nasty tally on the chalkboard to the edge and back and back to back with inch steel nails making the necessary indentation to look like an oval office frown you turn around & Downtown Miami sleeps with the homeless streets and food I bring is eaten by mice who think it cheese and all the days into smithereens a thousand thousands of you Rice bowls firework gum balls Martin bites down on a bullet regresando a la ciudad de los sueùos perdidos periods and commas laughing at semicolons and you can't be missed I will always miss you an orange coil surrounding our blinking impeccable mirrored incapable lives in origami an oasis kissing a grand desert and again am I sorry for it taking my heart days to ring you a line of quicksand apology she oh ah’s goodnight goodbye goodmorning orchid opera organ honeysuckle rap par on a line of green scrubbed white dairy farm fields cut clean with factory lines shipping on-demand students to soldier traffic all around me are candy corn cameras

screaming out names I once held so dear close getting mixed up in the hum of emergency lights and blinkers in the notes of city nights.

I'm tired of reading the same poem of mine written in different etchings of the sky, I'll never be tired of seeing your blue green gray eyes of God.

bipartisanship I've become so subject to the moon calling me by my first name that the sun's memories are now a complex burden of bunched evergreen roots pointing at the I they you constant and you and I constant and sometimes when he's her here where there she's him and God calls me to return to the place I never met Him in a candlestick, I myself crumble my proofs into a spitball I have no record of spending nor can I recall the bodies I once carried fruitlessly from my mornings to your afternoons.

Silly how Trump continues to trump popular media with unpopular opinions.

I don't want to fear the end of the road anymore, tomorrow I don't want to beg for another piece of bread.

I refuse to be greater than the wind's political party.

I won't leave this house without you, without everyone holding hands.

Excuse me, at home I am a poem.

Meanwhile and since then when while I not it even when you tag me, you look away first chance of moonup, so I've learned it's best to close the eyes when

streetlights in your nightsky don't blink.

The blooming storm underneath the newest moon the painting I drew for you in my sleep.

The many eyes of sunflower fields looking down to their own stems and leaves, drying.

And all the colors of the grayscale weighed against my rainbow heart.

he como se ventila el mar cuando el viento no viene que misericordia tener la tierra como madre principalmente tengo miles de preguntas sin respuesta posible he invitado la idea que el principio y la finalidad son la misma puerta el pasto verde las hojas rojas el agua como el tiempo el cielo como un espejo

then bubbled in sorrys

Sightseeing galaxies through the lens of a tower viewer married to the oven nowadays nowhere whereas lone stars inside an ocean pick out from an abandoned garden a handful of roses & daises & sunflowers in a pink white yellow ampersand &, and after, a rest.

ella, escrito, borrado para la Nana todos tenemos que regresar a nuestra casa todos tenemos que despedir a los que nos aman, el dolor nunca se va, solo se coloca en otro sitio para que lo mueve el viento, y no se mueve de mí, siempre está cerca ella porque debemos colocar el dolor en un lugar inolvidable pero muy cerca del mar el libro siempre continuará siendo escrito pero el nombre sigue ahí aun que esté borrado

Acknowledgements Edited Spanish with the help of friends & family

©2019 Luis Eduardo Utrera Morales All Rights Reserved @leum__ leum.xyz