luke holt Poems

O’ martyrdom
Sequestered in obsolescent forms, shapes, dimensions,
Vectors in hurt and ghost and germ
The sweet jasmine of her kiss leaks from the bowls of my neurological receptors
...

clear cunning as streets sizzle with passion
beyond molten sand and smoldering protons
past the negro yards
past the opal moonbeams which infatuate stars
...

Phantom smiles
Behind ashen clouds
Of pot smoke
...

take me to a stoned village
where people don't use names or cars or shoes
hot electric dharmas sizzle like melting china
O, carcass of muse
...

((sung in melody of bob dylan's 'gates of eden', key of Bb))

phantasmal morning drops of rain salute the morning streets
as daisy blossoms lilt and bend where forest dwellers meet
...

'we the people'.......
.....'and then god said'......
...'thoust shall not kill'.......
...'i hearby sentence you to'................
...

at first the billiards rolled smoothly
like beads of blood
now they are black cells and rhinos in a jungle of desperate algebra
in a cold dream
...

i have seen the tragedy
hence my plea

i have dervished the dominatricks' requiem for the entirety of this fable
...

The hours lag like dour tarantulas
Though the hands are moving
The fingers are crippled
The milk expires quickly
...