Deprevation

sopping up the inspiration, creativity and beauty from life's dregs

summer’s end: letting go September 9, 2018

Filed under: EL,Poem,What it is — nomisyar @ 13:34

air ripe
with dragonfly
and pugnacious
blossom scent;
sun
rains
fiercely
upon my skin;

like the torch
borne for love
recently
departed:
not so gentle
will Summer
slip
into
Winter’s dark,
calming night.

 

roundabout September 4, 2018

Filed under: EL,Poem — nomisyar @ 06:44

sifting through Infinity’s
pockets,
over and over,
and
over again, I find
you.

i find you
laughing.
and
i find
you crying.

i find you giggling with glee.
so much vibrance,
absent of me.

so
i find my own pockets
and continue.
life awaits,
without you.

 

Limes and Lemons September 2, 2018

Filed under: In Vino....,What it is — nomisyar @ 17:12

zest deez!

I hate zesting.

how is such a wonderful word like “zest” tied up and twisted with, arguably, the worst aspect of prepping a meal?

I really
hate
zesting.

!

 

blind, deaf and numb September 1, 2018

Filed under: In Vino....,What it is — nomisyar @ 16:56

you have no eyes
and you read,
but do you see?

ear drums ruptured
by the chorus of lies:
you listen,
but do not hear
me.

step away dear,
please.
cuz you don’t,
no,
you won’t,
understand.

I care about,
but
have no time
for, your doubts.

shit’s moovin’
free people are groovin’
and I gots work to do.

deuces.

 

Bric à brac leaves the heart no slack August 25, 2018

Filed under: EL,In Vino....,Poem — nomisyar @ 16:36

mementos,
receipts,
and
little shopping bags
remind
of a love
that traveled on.

more poignant than all the words
scratched to each other with love,
a morrisons bag
kicks me in the gut.

the past has passed,
no doubt;
but in constant refrain,
nostalgia digs
with the sweetest pain.

life
is
gorgeous-
The Universe, divine.
To have loved was a gift,
both hers,
and
mine.

 

Instruction In Artful Deviancy August 24, 2018

Filed under: EL,MORE,Poem — nomisyar @ 03:41

Slipped,
between
creased corners
of Night’s gossamer,

Moon,
timid & shy,
slips
softly

in –
which hour,
come,

and
gone,

shall magic
come
again?

wicked
wholesome deeds await
lovers,
and children,
and all that fall between.

Come
&
Fly,
my little devil,
Heaven awaits.

 

Wot you doin’ here Black Man August 20, 2018

Filed under: EL,In Vino....,What it is — nomisyar @ 23:32

meandering and,
sliding…
slowly slipping into ecumenical,
and socialist
perfection.

 
I see you,

Brother,
and you
see me….

I nod.
You nod.

&
we keep it movin’.

Life
Blacktastic

belongs to you,
and
to
me.

rock on brother,
rock on.

 

 
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