Ullus Partum Est Verum In Ipsum.

My poetry has no form, because like poetry, I am formless. Everything I am is changing at all times.... so in this mode, all my poetry is but a glimpse of a single moment, or feeling, or idea.
You are getting a snap shot into someones soul at any given moment. You are getting a peek at something that is already gone. Like old stars, we only see the light from something already altered. Like old stars poetry gives us a way to trace back feelings and connect..... on a very human level.

Search My Poetry

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Damn It (LunaVega 2010) (Subject:Love)

Damn it
Iv done it again
let my heart out a little
now its exposed to the light
and it hisses and moans
because its kind of used
to being alone
and now he wants it back
and its like an attack
a panic that spreads
through my piston-like veins
when I think of the chance
we could be together again
Its a big chance
one that could hurt
one that could maim
one that could defame
the little flag called love
that bears his name

Damn it
Iv done it again
I can feel myself
opening up for him
exposing my weak spots
a perfect place
to throw a dagger
called lies

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Careless Archers (LunaVega 2009)

ashes all over this desk
burning petals
sweet smoke
heeding to needless gesture
from my lamentations
undeveloped dreams
vigorously work themselves
to the surface
just dont know
how life got like this
but I will ride the tsunami
with no fear
contempt is gone from my heart
better to not walk with
the childish
the good books say
erase hurt and allow stains
to remind me of lessons
small scars
from pectoral rumors
dealings with the silent heart
wearing it on my sleeve
an easy target
for the worlds careless archers
reason was sound once
now it manifests like honey
slow to anger
its sensual tastes
poison to a hearty soul
arrows and stones
I will weather
till a equitable lover
makes himself known
and I will take off my armer
for him
and lend him my arm
so he may see my blue blood
running through out
and understand my honest intentions
leaving myself open for injury
with his possible perjury
I will wear but this thin cotton
to deter the vampuos nature
I will lend myself to fate
yet again offering my sanguine self
honest and forth-right
on that alter of the heart
including in my letters to god
heartfelt prayers of forgiveness
asking only growth and goodness
for great hearts whom stole my air
weakened my resolve
and left me in muerte

I will not give up so easily
on love

I will not give up so easily
on love

I will not
give up
so easily

on love

Fell Into Place (LunaVega 2010)

life is strange
your heart tells you one thing
and your mind another
but your heart is always right
and that is where poetry comes from
and now I am forced to form sentences
because my heart deems is so
like its making me tread up hill
in some wintry hell
so here is what it wants me to say

I cant help but accepting the natural course
i cant help but being who I am
and you being you
and me being forgiving
and you finally saying whats true
when i saw you again
and our eyes met
it was like a gear that was slightly off
had clicked into place
I had such a wobble in my soul
unbalanced without you in my life
and every damn time I tried to deny it
the wobbel would get worst
and I compensated and rigged things well
so that to teh outside worl
I looked like I was running fine
but my soul was telling me the entire time
"give it a chance... this is not done....its meant to be"
and I cant deny your hearts strong gravity
I cant push you away
no matter how badly it hurt
and I will be so careful now
and plant my feet in the dirt
and instead of being a line of ivy
I will be the steadfast tree
but you can cut my twig
and still see the green
which is really red
I am growing now without you
but I would rather grow together
my soul told me the other day
"Be honest with yourself, what do you really want?"
and I looked onto the night lake
and saw the ripples reflect the distant lights
and I thought to myself
"I want the other half of my soul back"
so you see
I cant help but be me
and you cant help but be you
but oh god....
do we have a lot of talking to do.

Your like hunger pains (b)

I wish I could write something
that was pure of verse
and poetic and not trite
but I cant concentrate on
or any type
of rhythmic prose
truth is
your like hunger pains to me
a constant ache
that cant be fed
a parched tongue
with no water to cool cracked lips
because I find you in everything I do
it cant be avoided
because my heart wants you hear
and I cant
and I dont want
to erase everything of you
I cant see a white car
without my heart skipping a beat
I cant drive past the school yard
where we used to meet
I cant fall asleep well
without your scent on the sheets
it hurts like a puncture wound
to the heal
to have to walk past the area
where you live

but now I see that you feel the same
the whole time part of me figured
you had murdered my memory
buried it far below ground
but this whole time you kept it alive
your quiet eyes
that cut right through me
like a butcher knife
I never knew
you felt this way too
have to figure out
what changed our tune
what wobbled our record
what put a knock in our gears
take things slowly
and figure out
who we are
i like to say it
it feels good coming out
like song

your name is like a touch of honey to me
and you know how i love honey in tea baby....

figure things out
as we go
decide how to fix
this mess
called love

and feel your heart beat
through the warmth
of your shirt
and love you like I always have
even when it hurt
balls in your court now
prove to me I am
a petal
worth the thorns
because you are still
the knight of my heart

Monday, March 22, 2010

Sparrow (LunaVega 2009 (c) ) (SUBJET: Fantasy)

There once was a smooth white ball
that floated like a feather to my lap
and it was incandescent and silent
and vibrated with good cheer
and I touched it with the tips
of my fingers
delicate swirls of ink did suddenly appear
and they formed into tiny words
"what ever you want"
and so I set my hope in there
and imagined a cage
but no cage would appear
instead it turned into a sparrow
that stole a strand of hair
and it took to gentely sailing off
with a little part of me

Friday, March 19, 2010

It Is What It Is....(LunaVega 2010) (Subject: LIFE & LOVE)

I see children walk by
and I see mothers holding babies
and I see fathers clasping hands
with mothers
and I see toddlers toddling along
and I think to myself
where do I belong?
I have only felt the urge once
when I looked into his eyes
but that ember was murdered
with all the lies
and now I look at children
and just sigh
because I dont see myself as a mother
without him by my side

Monday, March 15, 2010


long ago....
the word WOMEN was good.
fertility was a sign of life
breasts were a treasure
because they gave life
full hips
gave pleasure
brought forth
new beginnings
infants crying
a miracle a man
could not make
with all the gold
in babylonia
or summeria
or in the Olmec lands
the female
was appreciated
it was concentrated
in culture
that WOMEN
was GOOD.
but today
women are so thin
they can not
hips so fragile
you dare not touch them
for intimacy
bodies constructed
in a laboratory
trying to cultivate
only flattery
are now
for cum shots
on a dvd
of sprouting
the divine seeds
and yet at the same time
the same men and cultures
who subject us
to this duality
include in their paradigm
of us...
the blessed virgin
kind and forgiving
innocent to the core
pure and
doe eyed
and martyred
on the daily grind
giving our dreams over
to be smashed to a pulp
and lifting those men around us
How amusing...
at night...
oh how the tables turn
to play the part
of mary magdelin
pleasing and sucking
and licking
and fucking
we are the nasty lady you desire


Oh it was WE who took the apple?
brought the terrible curse
and the first verse
Yes..... I see how it is...
so easy to blame a women
who is busy nurturing your children
playing father
when the father
is NOWHERE to be found
dealing with hypocrites
and idiots
who only see the packaging
hands for weaving
jacking you off?

Where is the super-conscious?
Where is the mitochondrial inference
that should be passed down
in our being
that women ARE GOOD?

The archytype of women?
Where has it gone?
Lost to gender roles
or gender confusion
or maybe indecision
from mysterious and
to pornography
dildoes and filthy toes
slicking out from silletos
in a dark strip club
sold into bondage
in factories
and brothels
where has the good
and respect
from the WORD

Into the ground I guess
where all things
return to
when they die.