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Neen and Grampa, Love You Always

Neen and Grampa, Love You Always

webs

webs

Angel Robin

Angel Robin
MANY of these photos are courtesy of my SoulMate, my Beloved Eternal, Robin Taylor.

We Meet Again...

We Meet Again...

Lovers

Lovers

VirtuosoBabe

VirtuosoBabe

FreddieBrianBabyKitty

FreddieBrianBabyKitty

Cathy's Babies

Cathy's Babies

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Grassy Morn Mourn



A dance at Dusk's deep melancholy tears:
Her colors blur to shadow, ache my Heart;
my Soul, she mourns a Sax a lover played;
his mouth, each note inside her body, stained

to live a Dream ne'er realized in this Life
a dawning mercy teases Moments' tears -
You understand, you feel a body's ache,
a rouged slice, an agonizing stain, (a Muse to Then);

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

or could it be we shared a LifeTime,
might be you and I did dance -
mayhap swampgrass pressed our feet
as we stepped, soundlesly, 
upon Dawn's dew-damp green?

could it be our Secret whisked us to this Here, this Moment Golden?

candlelight illumines your face;
your roary raspy notes stroke my heated thrashing thing they say's "Sleep"

could you maybe be
more than Music Heart's caress,
perhaps

a caress sweeter than ever another you've known in this present Dream?

Thursday, November 13, 2014

tiny death



FauxFlowerGirl at Dusk of a cough-in a Dark she imagines only she knows;

                    a sneeze or an orgasm suggests tiny Death

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

comet dream's tale



O!
To acrobat my Wings,
to glow Gigantic Flam-ed Eyes;
Fae-Siren, Fire-Tail-Costumed Libertine,
NightSky be my Stage...
                                                                     
                                                                        Join me?
 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Heart sank with a foreign Sun twenty billion years young;
my Soul lifted later - she rose in Rainbows' iridescence- 

all colours bled into each other
a blinding brilliance brought to Life


only Beings blind to colour know the pain of in-between,
(exquisite agony one feels in shivers 'pon these Mountain peaks)

                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                                                         
            that Shadow-speak within you: may be Comets for my every Breath

yet

 We are One upon this Stage
One Love surrounds this swirling scene
We are One upon this Stage...
Open now the Curtains, Wide...

                                                                         



Sunday, October 5, 2014




a Dress from a half-remembered Dream...
or a half-remembered Life;
a Quest of those Woods -
was my Spirit here,
when the Robins spoke and we all understood their Song, their Flight


?

Do we all wish for Fly?
If so,
do we escape Her,
she who steals Leaves, to break beneath our feet?


?

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Hello, dear friends. I hope you are well and enjoying the onset of Autumn, 
or the Season which surrounds you - 
may it be thy favourite.

Where are you? 
I would love to know where is your home,
your area of our shared Universe.

I have recently returned from The Moon.
I am in the process of unpacking my gear, my Lunar Poetry.
As I speak to thee,
I consume MoonStroked liqueur.
I look forward to sharing excerpts
of this exotic nectar with you soon.

PeaceLoveSmiles to you all. 

Many thanks for Being here.
 CherylFaith 


Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Dedication to a few (Twitter's) Players, BeLoved upon my Mind's Stage

Dedication to Players BeLoved upon my Mind's Stage  

@DonDraperSCP @madmenparty1969  @MadMenFamily @ellenchristine  @RogerSterlingNY @ryderlee577
@MatthewModine  @selkiec @Ysabeluna  @rsrikanth05 @NimpLoom  @wisegirlsrule @arthurphillips
@SethDuerr @BCDreyer @OscartheOrange @SimonDrax @KafkaFranzz  
@robbies_oasis @AloeMantis @MarliskaB @bexxyd
@evviefeather @AloeMantis @OscartheOrange @WhoEstWood

And...

to several other friends whose names have failed to 
fit, to conform to make one-hundred forty characters or fewer
or to
reach my achy, stressed-out brain
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Absinthe:
 

Nectar for Goddesses, Gods, GoldBirds, Goths;
DreamBread for Players ~All~
- sated may we be,
beneath Moon's bright eyed Night we are but One,
all of plane same, upon this Grand Old Stage,
Divine
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
****Inspired by @madmenparty1969's recent Party, where 
ethereal Absinthe slaked slick our thirsty Minds

Sunday, July 27, 2014

aviant Hearts

For Dear Friends whose conversations and photos, tangible, as well as Mind photos, 
Inspired a few Words to fall from my fingers onto the page:

my aviant Heart bursts; 
ethereal flames stroke the Sky
 Sonrisa Sonrisa, thy glorious Beauty serenades our Souls...
hear Her Song?

slowdance in Her arms upon Sea's blackened eyes; 
and I see thee: my tranced khol-ed Dreams 
form our Music, always old, always new; we don't die

we waltz;our Hearts beat One more aching rhyme,
 come from Timeless harmony,
luted upon mountains toward our pulsating line between Worlds;

step into me as I fall into you; we fade & we fly;
Life is Heaven; Life is Hell;
our MoonDreams share beats as we turn,as we turn,as we turn...



Friday, June 27, 2014

excerpt from "Tapestry of Muses"

Courage came with no small thanks to thee.

The spinning sphere of Time's recycling cuts
Devours my Mind, unsettles me to tears;
My loves, my Dreams, my fears' merc'less assaults
Unravel me then spin me Home to whole -

I remember your eyes' intensity in Rain's rhapsodies,
the Wisdom Lights you cannot help but utilize to study Truths;
I remember your voice's gentle Music as you Read,
soft shy grace coloring potent Poetic ports;
I can only imagine how you must, at times, suffer the ache
Of thoughts too deep to think, to feel at once,
Time's cruel face as you reign in Jewels, who settle, softly,
with seeming ease, into sentenced corrals, into Life! -
into Immortality's embrace.

I remember you in Rain, in Snow, but truly,
an Autumn Sky's spectacular adieu,
one enigmatic, magical October Eve;

and I pray you suffer never -
I thank you for your Soul's/Mind's shares
with all my Heart...

My gratitude Immortalizes you
Immortalizes who I am, if ever I've been anyone;
if all this stage is but a World,
no greater Gold has blessed my Mind,
than a lithe dark Light, winding his way to a train.
A Poet's Heart felt the embrace of Universal Minds,
The Greats.

Should my eyes close now
to open in another Time,
I shall remember your Mind's fingers, freeing my Words 

**for an Immortal; for thee, AP  

note:
 Myriad men may share thy glorious name, but
a singular "Arthur" blazes thru Time's Soul
with Words magique to move bold Readers' Minds
from Brooklyn's Heart to farceurs' entomb-ed Gold 

Saturday, June 7, 2014

a kafka bug suite: a Kafka character dream

movements I
purple bubbled "p" pops; tis letter number three in "sip your drink, mate..."...
everything slants shrilly once again;
I feel me slipping...falling---
pity, as Purple stands Royal,
like that Creature in your glass...
purple letters create too much noise...
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Movements II : consoling Violets

Limbo'ed Raven-Folk reside in card-hotels;
those who do not fear.
those who do not dare to fear-
they visit -
we kiss them through a tiny violet window in the grove -
candles flicker, blaze the orchard;

our card-hotel sign screams, "Open"

Violet screams when forced to see
these purple letters follow me
I must console my desperate friend -
(I drop her into your glass again)
now breathe....breathe  -

We will pretend our bravest selves
to visit where the Ravens flow in
Violet's Rivers, 
beside those card-hotels who stole her name -
I think she'll dream upon reprieve -
but
Will she dream a new return?

.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Intermezzo (in a bug-pub) 
a "bug-pub is a solution for those who cannot stop the Meta morphoses

"you've poured more than a solo query to the (very ugly) bug," declared 
two tense-worthy causers who live in black shoes;
heir stiletto heels in a bunch: (our profound "pretty ponds")
afloat with plasticine piles, protruding beetles
climbing, creeping through thick-fuurred sticky Night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

movements III  

"tormenting Violets"
the kafka bug
he be a bloated - bellied guy -
He rolls round toward her purple door
"I love the sound of the Word,
"Violet," he oozes,
his wirey hair askew
askew in a silent whirring wind
we cannot see

all our worlds askew at once
all our Words cyclone, torment Violets, 
pass, whistling, through each other's rounds -
May we catch them, ball their electric dream hair into sense,
heal Violet's insomnia?


magenta dustballs rise like lies 
afloating round his head as he eats exits.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

more Stories en suite: further excerpts from tentatively titled "Dreams Burlesque"

now men sleep -
the wakeful ones are Felines who comb thru Sky-stained Night; 
tis like to Morne, this painted azure MidNight -
paper cut-outs pasted high to look as if a nubile Cloud - dance plays
to enter slumbered Minds
(nothing is right; nothing is right)

teeth, claws, glowing eyes, flash Fire
(gutters-full)
guttural street-wise throat-strained-purrs,
their sane - in- somewhere - faces  leer;
they hear the tenement dwellers' schemes

(if they could know scarred Felines' schemes,
we'd all be one
 alone be gone)

all Minds be gone-
 

these Cats in Dreams
these Cats in Dreams
the gutters bounce blue placid Sky  -
no Moon at MidNight 

but
we learn:
  We ride to 1969 !
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


otro movimiento (for Mr. "People")

Upstairs live the immigrants
Sicilians, here since 'sixty-eight 
the old man thinks he's Home again
his wife: she grieves alone at Night
she lost a son.
Where's he run to now, sweet boy?
Her husband's off to see his child,
to eat that smile he needs to Live;
Disease alights his greedy eyes,
bright with wine of vineyards gone -
his baby: where?
where's he run to now?
Mind you, Dawn breaks soon.

(mind you: Dawn breaks.) 

"Why is Morning broken, Daddy?"*
"What you talkin 'about, eh? Mornings no broke...Look at that Sky, my son. She isa perfect, no?"
He muses while upon the back of the chartreuse bug
(flash! upon an old Carousel);
he rides the insect's steely back;
He muses, rides to rich Sicilian fields;
his shuttered eyes, they know The Where -
a tear alights his dying eye
"Please, Midnight, stay; I'd see my boy,
My woman, too, yesterday so pretty..."

The sleepers toss;
(tenement heat scars the approaching mourn even further);
their Sleep disturbed by phantom cries,
their floating angels left behind in their sweet Sicilian embrace;
 boats have no real mercy, only Myth;
once Her Sea closes: complete surround;

 Boardwalk's exhausted Carousel emanates rot, but keeps her rhyme:
 no other way to go but 'round
for faded Carousels -

once you've mounted, all is gone, 
you've left behind your violet vines...
(Wine spills into these dirty new gutters;
"these people know not how to Live...")
but:
"he couldn't do it either, my boy;
his very Sleep stole away his Breath."**

The Carousel enchanted his boy;
had he remained in Sicily... ?
 

Bright, garish caricatures move ghosts move garish bright caricatures

("Next! Passport!" his Momentary Mind photo)

His Lady weeps alone again.
she lost a son.
Where's he run to now, sweet boy?
awake!

~~~~~~~~~

Morning means the Felines and the chartreuse insect must make haste - 
 horses round the Carousel,
...stray thoughts for which we have no Time;
 turquoise horse rounds down once more, 
his eye a nightmare villain's game, his whinnies: prayers:
"... the chartreuse bug will never again climb aboard
to steal 
my passengers..."

** thank you, Sir D.F.Draper, for your encouragement,
for the breath you blow through my aching Mind.
no idea why these words flow now, to thee- I worship Words.
Thou art a Muse.

I treasure the "copy-editor" endorsement on LinkdIn. :) <3 CF

** for "The People," to quote a dear wee one April May 2014 on some calendars

Friday, May 9, 2014

from the series tentatively titled, "Dreams Burlesque"

Chartreuse insect's secret move (sigh); 
Eighteen billion new bugs borne unto this dying morn; 
Dawn brings Her break. Birth and death in every Moment.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

further excerpts discovered from the tentatively titled "Dreams Burlesque"


now men sleep -
the wakeful ones are Felines who comb thru Sky-stained Night; 
tis like to Morne, this painted azure MidNight -
paper cut-outs pasted high to look as if a nubile Cloud - dance plays
to enter slumbered Minds
(nothing is right; nothing is right)
teeth, claws, glowing eyes, flash Fire
(gutters-full);
guttural street-wise throat-strained-purrs,
their sane - in- somewhere - faces  leer;
they hear the tenement dwellers' schemes

(if they could know scarred Felines' schemes,
we'd all be one
 alone be gone)

all Minds be gone-
 

these Cats in Dreams
these Cats in Dreams
the gutters bounce blue placid Sky  -
no Moon at MidNight 

but
we learn:
  We ride to 1969 !
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


otro movimiento (for Mr. "People")

Upstairs live the immigrants
Sicilians, here since 'sixty-eight 
the old man thinks he's Home again
his wife: she grieves alone at Night
she lost a son.
Where's he run to now, sweet boy?
The husband's off to see his child,
to eat that smile he needs to Live;
Disease alights his greedy eyes,
bright with wine of vineyards gone -
his baby: where?
where's he run to now?
Mind you, Dawn breaks soon.

(mind you: Dawn breaks.) 

"Why is Morning broken, Daddy?"*
"What you talkin about, eh? Mornings no broke...Look at that Sky, my son. She isa perfect, no?"
He muses while upon the back of the chartreuse bug,
(flash! upon an old Carousel);
he rides the insect's steely back;
He muses, rides to rich Sicilian fields;
his shuttered eyes, they know Where -
"Please, Midnight, stay; I'd see my boy,
My woman, too, yesterday so pretty..."

The sleepers toss;
(tenement heat scars the approaching mourn even further);
their Sleep disturbed by phantom cries
their floating angels left behind in their sweet Sicilian embrace; 
 boats have no real mercy, only Myth, once Her Sea closes into complete surround;

 Boardwalk's exhausted Carousel emanates rot, but keeps her rhyme:
 no other way to go but 'round
for faded Carousels -
once you've mounted, all is gone, 
you've left behind your violet vines...
(Wine spills into these dirty new gutters;
"these people know not how to Live...")
but:
"he couldn't do it either, my boy;
his very Sleep stole away his Breath."

The Carousel enchanted his boy;
had he remained in Sicily... ?
 

Bright, garish caricatures move ghosts move garish bright caricatures
("Next! Passport!" his Momentary Mind photo)

His Lady weeps alone again.
she lost a son.
Where's he run to now, sweet boy?
~~~~~~~~~

Morning means the Felines and the chartreuse insect must make haste - 
 horses round the Carousel,
...stray thoughts for which we have no Time;
 turquoise horse rounds down once more, 
his eye a nightmare villain's game, his whinnies: prayers:
"... the chartreuse bug will never again climb aboard
to steal 
my passengers..."

** thank you, Sir D.F.Draper, for your encouragement,
for the breath you blow through my aching Mind.
no idea why these words flow now, to thee- I worship Words.
Thou art a Muse.

I treasure the "copy-editor" endorsement on LinkdIn. :) <3 CF

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

scorch

I breathe out Fires

I open my mouth:
Out fall tiny living firestorms

Burn away my Words
They scorch the Air
where once my voice would dance
or
otherwise take form.

Cinders be the thoughts, the feel;
Ashes are the Dreams.

Saturday, March 29, 2014

for Arthur Phillips

Words from Twitter for Arthur

  1. Dear , I've now read all of your wonderful books, please write another.

  2. Thank you, Stephanie. You're right, I really should get on that...
  3. , Word-Magician unmatched, C'mon,Good Sir Phillips. Out with it, please; The Waiting's teeth ache, bruise my fevered brain !

for Don Draper and for Karen, my dear Friend...Simon, also you

Twitterings... of desperation and Friendship

@DonDraper_NY...mi hermoso angel diabolico :) @Selkiec, my dear angel friend....

curtsies 'midst patchouli clouds, her furtive form fades in, drifts down.
"Catch me," she giggles;
 her MidNight tresses trail, tred Time, as mermaids tails...
serpentine-lovers, sweet hashie smoke;
nostalgia drowns me in your eyes' profound pools
hurt mounts moves, a'healed my ache/ our tears, our smiles: we're but ALive...
BUT
I'm down...down...down... 

     And Thank You so much, Simon. Love to thee! CherylFaith
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Tula's embrace

"Tula!" scream my Soul-strings, whispered ache as I thump ground
Your old eyes pierce me, fire-flowered spikes,
but oh, so long my yearning for this land,
your flick'rng memory, 
your blessed dirt beneath my wings

I knew I'd lived inside your arms -
in Stone you testified ...
Try to remember
Close thine eyes

Cierrate los ojos a ver si nos puedes recordar*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mothers always sought the deities; now they Realize
Who (She) reigns above insipid surly tourist Dreams
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I visit you by riding high those cycled rainbows,
my eyes closed;
my Soul ablaze
my Heart aLive
I feel so graced to stride with thee

*Close your eyes; let's see if you can remember us

to be continued

Thursday, February 13, 2014

tease (Bourbon - Teased Chocolate)

floated in through the Storm, clothed in blue-grey Clouds;
I felt no fear, no fear, no fear,
only honour:

I see your form move in:
move away, go away!

move to here, disappear!
please dance; spray your Joy; 
let  me see you;
I need your touch only to prove
that they believe  
please believe me

but
only smoke doth define thee...
 as ice crackles 'pon the ailing roof
Her Truths become lost Songs unknown;
?
your Sister sang that Song last Night,
opened fog-full doors; you flowed in like bourbon
kisses on
dark flames
buried fire.
LightStorm, SnowStorm, Winter-in-the-eaves torment-
sorrow as the huge Sea sings;
 She howls as strangers
bring in cloudy arms, round shoulders clothed in blue-grey smoke

I pray to thee: my Sisters be; hold me to your Hearts;
I love too deeply; my Heart breaks over
these Storms She sends with whispered Hopes;

please tell me how you want me to caress you
your pain cuts me til Her blood anoints Her Mountain caves
Your slave am I; I be they Slave

o honour me, sweet mournful Soul
o honour me, these Lives, untold til Moments
come
thy Mind aglow
upon thy Heart
I taste thy seeping Life
you share
you honour me
you honour me
impossibly
I sleep
I toss with star-drenched Seas;
Her tears doth fall

** "...little ripples in Time, maybe breakthru of subharmonic that may have been or may be in the future; little disruptions hard to quantify, maybe you see these,  but I don't, but maybe..."
(quote of The Large Kitten,  My Valentine...my SoulMate...Happy Valentine's Day, my BlueSonicBoy)

(weirdness received on a NightCake drenched in frigid, perilous Beauty. 
May all be safe; be warm; know you are loved for you, wherever you may be! 
Happy Day of extra-Love, although every Day ought to be... 
Happy Valentine's Day to my SoulMate, who reminds me to "...let the weirdness in..." (Kate Bush)

Thursday, January 9, 2014

armour

I have been blessed to realize:
Certain people in the Circle hold candles,
old wispy angels, inside their bright bejeweled eyes.
When perchance these people's auras enter mine,
I see no other aspect first,
before their eyes seek mine or mine seek theirs;
My fears are tempered by their tiny armoured iron suits,
whilst they waver, ever-so-slightly,
                                                 comforting my demons in moon-stroked allies 



thank you, Alison; thank you, Karen : for your links in my Circles for your Hearts for your friendship