others letting a
bit of light shine and the clouds
break up in moments

Loves lost emotions
Devotion, care, and longing
Giving sacrifice

Walking solitude
Breeze blown clouds cross the moon
Moonlit Birds fly by
&
Hot breath floats on wind
Caught on autumns mournful call
Cold clear night whispers
&
Summer is no more
Prepare for winter goddess
Crowned ice diadem
&
She who sports the crown
Deep unfeeling coal black eyes
Comes nigh unbidden

A sign of welcome?
Its all gone wrong hasn

yoghurt and fresh fruit
madly overclocked athlon
and then there's moxie

india.arie
hey, holds up the metal
sign to her m.

when the skin decays
from a brother or our kind
we are all bleached bones

u can't answer KKK talk
witn an intelligent answer
might as well expect
rush limbaugh to come out
of the closet as a bisexual
crossdresser who is sexually
attracted to micheal j. fox
before his parkinson's disease
which explains his lack of empathy and my thinking
rush is getting senile to lower
himself to that

http://www.languageisavirus.com/

I just left a link in case someone
wanted to play around with the concept of language
as this too as a website is an on going work in progress

there's the bends from deep
sea diving coming up fast
from the depths of her

to the depths of mind
not coming up soon enough
for mental fresh air

I liked that one "spiral down"

there's a feeling of
intense strings pulled, to fill time
to sell news by fear

some call it the liberal
media, others
call it corporate

the note is the same
panic on the dance floor and
short attention spans

as our systems build
for the absorbing of info
cyborg mankind

books to mp3
data in our minds, and ads
maybe our minds, thieves

becoming us as we
hook our identities
to this little beast

we call home enter
entangled our world wide
web of time and space

Pushed and pulled about
Others seek to control me
My life

pianos are one
tori amos, trent reznor
you play well, key in

spinning still living
loving the sound that drives me
my god I'm happy

Turning on my axis
I

My name is Kendell
I love to play the piano
its fun or enjoying

wish I had a "neg-"
"gress" but beauty and taboo
over skin color

what whaT?

The Negress Always
Called Him Natty Bumppo. found
When He Laughed.thank you

I can say in less
words, what I mean come out
and just say it all

I disagree with
clarity as too much "peace"
is akin to castration

in the male sense
of expression of male
emotions and nature

from one to know all
a second self greatest to least
no mince the matter

lucid and concise
quaint pre-post modern concepts
or not. Whatever

mixing messages,
like drinks, blurs reality;
sober words clear sense.

overclock i must
more of a nerd than ever
je suis

reverse Turing test
jcaptcha gnirut routine
traps robot poets

Living in Paris
is a sine qua non of
Loving in Paris

Extracting movement
Taking the beauty from music
Turned into magic

follower I see
not so much a leader be
get out of the way

Haiku sucks....

Site for bad haiku
Is not for your rants, nimrod
Don't kill my buzz please.

we need more ammo
the heathens advance closer
fix bayonets, men!

tickle me elmo
right here inside my zipper
I would bone Oprah

my wet love carrot
your jiggling bags of milk
it's like an earthquake

those chinese lanterns,
dangling on the cities' streets,
light up the cold nights.

if its not about..
then you can finish this no doubt
your wisdom ..odium..

u can't touch this ..uh
jump up and down really
fast
it.. like you know me

my pants are falling
and I am smoking black tar
Long's Peak here I come!!

suck joy love toy gift
bad haiku and poetic
gimme a fantasy

I'll throw a snowball
the sunny delight of day
this brings me cheer

anger and pleasure
my worst enemy within
to peace..hold control

Head up my own arse
Confounded ego

Shared sexual desire
Life is many things but dull
Without her too long
*
Excitement intrigue
Talk and glances, but turned down
Coffee with an ex

be in the wrong box?
the saddle's on the wrong horse?
cutting one's own throat

Pluto of Underworld
must have been really pissed off
when they took his rock

If Phlegethon iced
then the abode of the dead
would require skates

deleting bookmarks,
i rediscovered this page.
i am whole again.

Caught up we all flow
Cobwebs of consensus billow
We all catch the wind

my last poem stank
of possible bigotry.
phobic i am not.

Alexander reigned,
in a time before NAMBLA.
Homosexual?

the pickle mocks me,
alone in the jar, it jeers...
ninja cucumber.

beetles in the wind,
like a hail of frozen rain.
insect projectiles.

Oh it is so true
You are not anonymous
Lots of stuff is logged

I guess he

I can think of worse
late for work, still on line pounds
on the keys for luck

kaleidoscopic
strobes lighted in optic nerve
close the eyes to deal