Month: April 2024

• Tangier Roads

  

  In a cold and dark windy hallway called my deepest sigh
  I look out upon the swaying, bubbling sky
  champagne sunsets turn to ebony nights
  with a big hole filled with a creamy, clouded moon
  deep-seeded memories skirmish in my head
  another day, another dry heave to the wind
  the pots are rolling with the boiling
  steam rising up to paint the walls wet white
  and I down in the stratosphere beneath my floor
  hard to look up and listen to the fuming world
  painted with the illicit acts of the damaged mind.

  

  By

  Aaron Echoes August

• The Last Love

  

  I found her

  she came out of nowhere

  some angel called beautiful

  holds me under the sun

  calms me through the storms

  loves me through everything

  no matter my faults, my scars

  she’s my last love

  the only one ever meant to be

  beautiful beyond beautiful

  and I hold her in my heart

  every single day

  if she knows it or not

  even when we struggle

  even when we fight

  even when we hurt

  I know when the clock comes around again

  she’ll be there on the other side of the sun

  still loving me

  as in our very first kiss,

  so we walk this world troubled

  side by side

  hands clutched in 2 a.m. dreams

  and she is my last love, my forever love, the love I was born to see.

  

  By

  Aaron Echoes August

• Rosaria Radiation

  

  And it was the crack of a symmetrical dawn

  lepers hanging clothes with no sleeves

  legless pants

  heartless armor

  the sieve where all the heart pulp runs through and through

  straining the anguish with a lightning-tied spoon

  4-leaf clovers come raining from the sky

  and he drives his Mercedes into a crowd of 12 oblivious jabberjaws

  The madman drank tea laced with the rosaria radiation

  and now he’s a drunk moose on the loose

  toting way too much baggage

  and dulled antlers spit-shined by the man in the moon

  that circle of meteor-pocked cheese

  that rolls through the sparkly galaxy

  all around our human minutia of dawn and pain and anguish

  and slices of Snow White’s poisoned apple pie

  and every alien addict crop circle

  spins like witches’ eyes

  on a psychedelic trip in some thick, green forest

  chasing Hansel and Gretel with an electric staple gun

  collating the folds of their skin like clockwork

  and the tears shed in the hills

  rush down like the world’s greatest flood

  disaster ten-fold obtuse

  those angels of deceit, lavished with wet, weepy memories

  and the passion that burned like the most vicious lava

  And there’s a fat, orange Koi fish

  swimming in a pool so circular and blue

  and every dirt heap is but another mountain

  to rip your crampons into

  and climb to Heaven

  to spit in the face of God’s guard of Oz

  then singing a melancholy yet smashing tune

  about the blindness he feels and sees

  toward forgiveness and love and inequality by the ocean

  the composer from Beach Bum and Rum California

  ever etching his mind into the wires that run rampant

  amongst the drunks, the princess poets

  and all their invisible beings on Pad Street

  the place with no signs for hands

  or a pen in which to paint

  the eternal ache

  of holding on

  to bare bones

  and no flesh

  in the sinister quiet

  of lonely places

  like the foggy docks

  or the steamy forests

  or the buggy riverside

  with all its ebbing currents

  preaching the sermon of beautiful emptiness

  in harmony with the dirt, the love, the wet life

  the chiseled core drips down through the dusty siphon

  of all these tubular engines whizzing by

  the sights of all minds buttered and plastered into holes

  that mean street brick and wooden coffeehouse,

  a quiet, cradling tram ride to Cardiff,

  staring out the window, with no warmth or warning of her 

  

  By

  Aaron Echoes August