Stories obituarius

1

With The Shins

So silently with the shins of a shadow, a veil and timbre of a phantasm smiling, touched my soul as we danced. Pulling down shades on god's promenade, and we swooning neath the viola moon, in heaven's amphitheater. Forever on the edge of time calling,   so silently with the shins of a shadow, of a paper mache rainbow as we kiss   With a mist hanging over our chateau, and a pedigree of...Read On

3

Tender Leaves

Divine darkness in my keep from my cold coffin's oblivion,   inside looking out. Feasting in my dreams as the dusk awaits, in reflections I swoon. From the shadow of thorns, and sins of my father lusting petals of virgins. As their innonence moans, thirsting for my demons   neath the velveteen moon. From my cold coffin's oblivion,   and the shiny tea quarters, forever, my vampire love. As...Read On

2

Inglorious Window Pane

Inglorious window pane Raining down condensation With a brume of breath As the crickets fiddle A smitten eye host As warmth of the hearth Tickles my innards Lusting of the midnight hour For your sourdough biscuits   Over charcoal briquettes Sipping from the flagon In peaceful delight In love with my Emily As you fill my pipe with weed Inglorious window pane    ...Read On

2

Tongue Of Song

  This the season of query, eventide of the moon's shadow composing tomes of forgotten bones of poets past, lusting for thirst of the blue veins with a wicking flame of tallow in suet of dark refrain. As my muse gently digest with her head upon my chest     in memories of dusk as the sun rest,   as I sip the sweet Madeira, and the tides of nights feed my quest. And as the lord's of lore...Read On

1

Meadows And Golden Rye

With a whisper calling me silently as if a breath of soul quietly, touching my conscious being because that's the way it remained. In blue heaven without a name, just forget-me-nots with a kiss, in a garden of our Gethsemane as the winds blew God's calliope. Singing a song as dew drops rained over meadows and golden rye,    on the sweet bye and bye   with a smile in my eye. That's the way...Read On

5

Veranda Of A Rickshaw Hauling

On God's veranda of a rickshaw hauling Neath an umbrella of sweetening snow falling Like a warm feeling on a summer night Shimmering like a leaf on a tree With Zephyr of a breeze touching my lips From behind a gossamer's shade And electrifying fingers that breathe With earth's potpourri of petals and dew Neath an umbrella of sweetening snow falling With the essence of ambrosia in your scent...Read On

5

Jack-In-The-Box

Dark seance of winter's frost speaking with the dead while holding hands feeling knuckles of the bones, daddy's going to buy you a Jack-in-the-Box, with windup spring that sings. And if that Jack-in-the-Box don't sing, daddy going to buy angel wings.  While holding hands feeling knuckles of the bones daddy's going to buy you a new cellphone, and if that phone don't ring, daddy will buy...Read On

5

Chilly-Boos

Dark has seized my insomnia of withering night shades, confessing of past doggerels with chilly-boos and my pen. While sipping a wee bit of cider in deep purple among the hemlock, as the glockenspiel seizes, and the keys go belly up. And as my words of gloom flounder with a voucher of old men rising, furloughed from the house of chagrin, with cataracts on my pen.   In conversation...Read On

2

Neptune's Glider

In the aquarium of my mind's keep hearing echoes from the sea, and you whispering to comfort me,   collecting seashells by the sea. With the tides of dawn cresting to the edge of the deep waters, and the lords of blue aqua pipe with seashells of poetic flutes. In silence of the dark abyss floating to tunes of lunar moons, drifting in dreams on my horizon, as if Neptune's glider in my sleep. ...Read On

3

Mr. Grim

Out on the rooftop the reaper was peeping with blood on his mind. While down the chimney fall the mice were sleeping dreaming of cheese, and Roquefort dressing. Every night was Christmas for Mr. Grim, and his eight tiny curmudgeons. Awakening and rising sitting straight-up in bed feeling the shakes of the frigid gloom. Perhaps it was just... Quicker than a flicker with a finger...Read On

4

Glory Of The Twilight

It was a wistful longing for the night winds that had me pawing dark's sensuality. As my breath condensate in a brume of sooted smoke from the nearby chimneys. And I grinning a grin of a harlequin. As I lit the gaslights, a choir in the distance harken a carol. "O come all ye faithful..." Beneath my button britches my manhood twitched, with Old Nick's itch. And with a glint in my monocle...Read On

4

Prayer For The Dead

Forgive me, Obituarius, Oh, dark knight. With pen in hand of ignominy In my garret, Sacrosanct sans scrote. A darkness at the end of my inkwell Scripts a nebulous gauzy world of ghost Amidst quotes from the vicar of the undead. The mind of nomads with Byzantine wings Leave footprints in the sand As cold winds blow across Medina, With pen in hand of ignominy.      ...Read On

5

Windmills

In my memories, I reached back into the archives of my knapsack, as if I had lived the essence of you, and the rising tides... eventfully they do. All the while with smiles you cast upon amber meadows down below, with gentle kisses come my way as clover dance and rosewood sway, and the sea-bells rang. As mist of the waves blow caroling of thee I write of our golden rings, setting sail...Read On

3

Cup Of Gin, Bombay

An old broken poet, he has a hungry eye for the darkening clouds coming his way with pen and ink, he whittled a thirst for a cup of gin, Bombay   The gin was bitter, it burned his tongue but the swill made his mind full of song and with a well of ink, he flung a verse for a cup of gin, Bombay Rolling dice in a fast lane called life   he wrote it dark into the dusk of erotic mimes in...Read On

7

World Of Unicorns

With tomes of poetry and words Between lines of gossamer threads In a world of unicorns and puppy dogs   To be read when loneliness prevails   As earth-tones turn to autumn Between lines of gossamer threads   And leaves of umber scatter Neath God's rainbow ladder In a world of unicorns and puppy dogs    ...Read On

5

Take A Little Flight With Me

In dreams of yesterday's psalms A crucifix stood at the apse, In shadows divine. Did your baptismal awakening lapse? Do you remember, last September? When you were but a mortal in the flesh Never giving thought to the perpetual twilight, Before the lord of darkness, whispered your name. Take a little flight, take a little flight with me, Night wings are but a coat of ebony, So take a...Read On

6

Dear Santa

Dear Santa. All I want for Christmas is something for ED, constipation and some Polident. And if you think about it, bring me a broad who doesn't have varicose veins or a goiter. Also, a new blow-up doll of Tammy Wynette. It seems the old one sprung a leak and is now in space, somewhere over Miami.   I understand that I got failing grades on being nice but hemorrhoids give me a...Read On

3

Obituarius, Vampire King

The elder mummy foretold me, as I was entwined in gauze and stood in sand to my knees; “Don't be exorcised by a two-faced omen.” The pain engulfed me as I withered, then was reborn as dead. Like gypsy moths in caravans, a brethren of the damned. Moving across Europe when present-day England was nothing but a rock. Giving mortals a new kingdom of the un-dead. A glorious aspiration long...Read On

7

I, Vampire

Up the lattice and down the stairs my Scarlet awaits midnight kisses, as she sleeps beneath satin sheets, until waking to an eternal dusk.   I Vampire, Lord willing me my thirst, in shadow of the pale moonlight as an ensemble of cellos bow, strings of resin snow.   Touching your warm breasts with my lips of cold magenta, a frozen December, my love, as your eyes fear not me.   Come fly with...Read On

5

Boo

If I had the skills of Shakespeare, I would be Poe's ghost. Given my proclivities for the dark and pale strangers who lurk. But seeing as I have no time for talk, I let my pen squawk. Pounding sand for my fans.   I play not a fool for those who seek a bed of eggs for their basket. Because my yoke is for those who play by the Ouija, in my mind's abyss. The ossuary of my Bic's and Paper Mates.  ...Read On

3

No Time For Spirits

Inviting you in to my spiritual wake As a censer shakes of omens and sins Obsessed by silence of nocturnal clock   Bound by iniquities of my pen and ink   Poetically conceived in my metamorphosis And genus of the blue-wing dragonfly Having no time for spirits and old men    ...Read On

3

Count My Blessings

Wherever the winds blow in dreams of my sleep  As the valance of dusk close my eyes  And a silence tolls whispers of leaves falling While stars twinkle like stars gleaning   I count my blessings for your touch   Praying to the Lord for a Nightingale's tweet      ...Read On