986 (the status of my being) (poem)

986 (the status of my being)

by Tim Kavi

sometimes it  flows

unstopped, flooding

the plains below

mountaintops of ecstatic utterances

so was my youth

words are stopped

up looking, upwards

at the springs

sources where the snow

no longer melts and

the rain no longer comes

such was my adulthood

we all have issues

I said, as the guitarist's

(self-imagined) fingers bled

bludgeoned poets on the

rocks below; shattered

pretending to be an artist

by questions that blocked

the streams where words

would flow; I've become

"the great imposter"

so I wear sunglasses

and lipstick

fucking lipstick

my anima does me proud

such I am now, confused

and bleeding, yet

98.6 the doctor said

it's nice to be normal again.

brushes on canvas; (a work is done) (poem)

brushes on canvas; (a work is done)

by Tim Kavi

canvas on fire

with rainbows

of fantastic colors

lending a dark surprise

to misbegotten eyes

across fractured time

hypnotized

as lasting songs

fed by passion's grind

cathartic desires unfurled

as dueling arrangements

juxtaposed in symbolic 

fires of mind

intertwined and hurled

tossed and thrown

gobs of paint

by artists sublime

in heartbroken rages

of mystical verses

spoken at altars

where eagles climb

as universal cosmology

points to infinite points

across starried skies

where mountains flowed

down to the seas

where purple waves

drowned in ecstatic cries.