safe

I will ease your pain
I will cure your hurt,
now I lay me down to sleep
but your magic I will keep
safe and protected from eyes and ears
of those who don't understand
who don't see what I see
all I ask in return
is a piece of redemption
sucked from your fingertips
which
seems
to
be
the
only
place
I'm
safe
fall down weeping
in quiet halls of filth
and I will hold your head in my lap
and whisper you
into sleep folded close to my heart
which
seems
to
be
the
only
place
you
are
safe.
Tomorrow will be the same
as today and yesterday
but still I know
what you need to survive
trust me to bring you
into sweet repose
and peace

photo and text© rkprince

works by Nicole Taylor

Her Oath and Her Name

She wears
Tabu.

She buys flowers, red roses
too.

Her perfume says
prohibited,

but her actions say
uninhibited,

a toss of the long
hair

with such great
flair.

Her passions are
romantic.

Her methods are
eccentric.

At your picture, she
stares.

To the sideline, she
leers.


image and text copyright 2009 nicole taylor

a link to more poetry: http://www.beatsupernovarasa.com/Lectures/bacheca007.htm

when faith is a flame

"I got saved, my soul was rescued...."

walk this way

The earth moved today,

just slightly, a tiny jump

forward in the universe.

Enough to shake the

foundations and send

the moon crashing

into the ocean.

Fortunately she was sitting

on the edge of the galaxy,

balanced on the north star

when the shift occurred,

sparing her the upheaval

it would’ve caused

But tonight she will feel

the effects of the day,

pulling her further into the

dark rift of the Milky Way

and leaving her tired and lifeless

as she sits inside her room.

Somewhere a child cries,

a thousand golden teardrops;

windows shatter,

leaving glass scattered in the yard;

the rains fall,

drowning out all sound but it’s own

And the hunger moon looms on the horizon.

photo and text copyright rkprince 2009

spider between branches

spider between branches
charred blackberry fronds
like dreadlocks

to enter
stick burning man
fragile accident

mission blanket
a world of rags
cruel metallic threads
woven
burned books

owl island
book of the dead
"l" is for lost

hard plastic dinner packet
melted to form
pelvic bones

a loose patch of fabric
red sequins
fuckn sexy

excrement fried, scorched
morphed with centipedes

kool-ade lime-colored capsules
a forgotten relief
eat me

water bottles
melted, fused
with sleeping bag filler
half full of urine
the last UA

skin deep
bent branch
wound and tension

carbon forms
a cityscape image
in plastic

photo and text copyright browland 2009