The Progression Concept

fold one
by three
one for war and peace
one for face flush
blush and web root keys.
one for security.
this one out like hands
spider fingers web intra-inter pool.
up to neck in red.
moon red!
the cross keeps me crossing.

the black ones
the preppies
the table of assorted junkies
brown hick with brown dog
lowed bitch screaming taco bell (of all things).
from song to song
talent extends like long, long legs.
tight red rope scars.
fingers
spider fingers
sunset @ the paseo.
convo
jazzelectro
babies
lazies and the trash they leave for earthlovers to pick up.
beats to glitch and jack up!

the posers
the poetic posers
the big fat liars
pridefull sellers of theater
actors
casters of oppinions
sellers
dealers
lowed screaming asshole punkrock slammers!
war is comming…
and i’m fuckin’ callin’ it!
from stem to stem to every sin,
your memory is burdened with your poetry.
your memory is burdened with your poetry.
when you choke,
or come unplugged,
or feedback,
your rhythm stops.
when your poem is fiiiinalllyy finished,
your eyes are for the approval of human man.

forgive me.
forgive me and take my hands.
my speech is only as elaborate as my intele-cromagnum.
my history is painted from left to right.
wet while praying.
blue and deep pink as the sun turns to moon,
as the stars remind us of how new the earth really is
and how young we are.
the final fold and chapter as this saturday sits in Saturn’s rays.
you were wet while i was drying.
and i love you.
i love to talk to you
i love to be with you
and i don’t need this or that to survive,
just my drive with you.

(c)2009 Jonathan DeLucia, all rights reserved.

“deeper”
we the angels
and artisans
sing in unison.
deeper
where the bones and roses bond
like pasty breakbeats.
deeper
(inhale)
deeper
into to the torso
into the center
where we
the children
are born and nourished,
where the horizons are halved
and lay open like lotus
deeper…
where the sun splits the sky
creating oval heaven within us.

+
the stage is set and lined with neon.
we are in between planets.
pulled in balance
and as our middles meet,
our toes touch
our palms press like glue.
skin almost touching…
…almost touching
…between our curves,
coves and hip bones
lay codes of the hottest heat.
a vacuum for our breath
we breathe in circles
circular breathing
exhale into you
inhale into you
exhale into you…

++
he is the Foundry’s anvil and mallet.
where they meet and spark,
cums his throat’s very wishes:

“from my toes she ascends.
pushing with her my blood.”

“from my chest to my neck ascending.
blood still firmly pumping.”

+++
arise, my lover.
i call to you…
and she
our heroine
emerges from hot pink dust.
smile loose
and comfortable
skin shine with 60’s sexiest glow
and from portrait to profile,
perfectly symmetrical.
the purest of poem.

++++
sing to me
sing from your teeth
a cool wind for my throat
for it is battled and bruised for you.

from my tongue to hers:
a cool mint treasure.

let this plane and dimension
forever expand
to prove there are no walls in eternity.
from lover to lover
head
heart
across each shoulder
from age to age
i have collected thought.
how it has made my eyebrows low.
several times they have choked me
several times i’ve tried to expell
and several times
gospel has fallen on deaf ears.
(not to mention very thin lips).
i have bent my knee to Jehovah
time
after time
after fucking time!
i have been born and reborn in infinite birthdays,
where time,
audience,
was the enemy.
yet with every mark, my skin has bonded with itself
producing tight, chord-like scars.
they are now rope for her.
they reach miles to meet her.
and she,
above all women,
fancies her hands around them.
she,
as teenager,
is the most blessed of rewards.
the sweet sweat of my earth’s result.

+++++
a wingless angel, i give her mine.

++++++
she tilts her head back
and opens her mouth to my wisdom.
she speaks to me in letters and songs.
the very tune my ears long for.
sealed in cirtus cotton and love beads
i eat her words like and drink their meaning.

+++++++
on me she rests
and so does her future.

++++++++
time,
no longer the enemy,
waves to us in near distance.
mere seconds.
he is blond
white
and clean
he is average
normal
and holds no intimidation.
as our planets continue to expand
and fill space
the stage fills with pastel petals.
the lighting is a warm, incandescent cyan.
and we see our friend time,
surrender his envelope to the maker.
and upon holy palms,
we rest in red circles.
when closed to pray,
our bodies kiss within His.

(c)2009 Jonathan DeLucia, all rights reserved.

in response,
i am your stable ground.
thousands of roses
burned
(i’ve casted my pearls before swine).
luckily i generate pearls and roses
it’s my super power
your lyrics bless me.
i’ve been there and
through the rain,
i was there through the rain,
…and we’ve seem to have strayed toward happiness.
it’s funny
how i used to trip on things…
blend
bend their ears with me.
create harmonic hiss
with me.
the poem is slightly naked.

(c)2009 Jonathan DeLucia, all rights reserved

I cut the radio

Cut it off

I cut the radio off.

I no longer want to hear songs

we didn’t make.

Indeed this was a stamp on my memory,

violet and orange ink fill my history,

Sunrise

Get it.
Palms out…grab it.

A stamp on our history.

Let all Creation hear what you and I whisper.

To you,
my new muse,
my poem.

The one who’s breath adds third harmonics to mine

In the most

sexiest of taste.

I am a skinny, pink organ who vibrates.

To you belong my letters,
for you hear them and don’t burn them.

Rather, you dip them in water with our roses.

An offering to her
so worthy of it’s value.
she will capture my lovesongs from now on
and I hers,

Muse. I will be her muse too.

Muse

Music

For you, love, time is faithful deposits.

Our hair will get longer, our skin darker,

And in merely time…

I will lock you in to my genius.

And you will put me in the space between your lungs,

For I am young.

And you are the kind one.

As we wait, grow…

And we will sing our songs under tribal destinies.

We will kill boys and girls and create new ones…

©2009 Jonathan DeLucia, all rights reserved.

palms out…grab it when it comes.

from head to toe
i am soaked
amd wet
with bless
sticky bliss
sparkle a glossy gloe
like stolem money.

and this
just the very first frost
first sparkle
first hiss
split lip
turn
16 23 28
…and YOU totally skip the bullshit.

deep in step
deep in beat
deep in thought
stop
cut wierd jerkie rhythm
then slip in vocals
(sound like violins)
like heart throb
pink throbbing vibe
but not yet…
seconds with you
not yet…
kiss seconds from touch
not yet…but yes.

shakespeare saw my poem
and started his writing career soon after.
his first plagerized word
was mine first
and is as follows::
“I MISS THE FUCKING SHIT OUT OF YOU!”

*Majesty*

so let their brains be erased
let their poems
fall to the floor
for burial!
let their stupid tattoos
peel from their stupid,
educated bodies.
let them sit there
and impress
no one!
convince
no one!
of nothing!

…and let them be blessed as well.
might as well.
’cause next to you, girl
they are hell’s shadow.
the amber film beneath the toilet.

(c)2009 Jonathan DeLucia, all rights reserved.