an angels hand slaps well.

an angels hand
slaps well.
+++13+++

i told her
she was pretty
as hell..

and..

an angels
hand slaps
well...

but doesn't
seem too
great at
catching..

those once
loved.

( who from
grace fell.)

+

i kissed away
her midnight
tears..

they..
tasted like
lost dreams
that ran
astray,..

and became
a Horde Of
Living
Nightmares!!

(Screaming
With The
Voice Of
Yesterday.)

++

she's still
pretty
as hell..

and...

an angels
memory lasts
well..

but i no
longer hope
to relive
that grace!!

(from which
my spirit fell.)


j.stephen.h.

_________________

I hope with this piece that
my attempts to apply a
minimalist scheme did
not detract from the intended
message of the poem.

I think that many profound
statements can be made
with literary simplicity,
IF the artist in question applies
it correctly. (but even that
much like art itself, is also
a matter of taste. So I could
be self-refuting in my view.)


I suffer a rather peculiar
form of madness which
passes itself off as sanity
very well..because
I often use seemingly
rational arguments to
explain away behaviors
that are essentially irrational,
and oftentimes self-destructive.

I Love with Vengeance,
and will never avenge the
love I destroy.

(still...because I suffer
a peculiar madness...
i'd never change a fuckin
SECOND of it.. because
the Pain Defines Us just
as much as That Fleeting
sense of Joy we sometimes
are fortunate enough to know.

Abraham Maslow called it
peak  experience...I call it self
delusion which strangely
enough may be the soul's odd
way of curing itself of
a self-inflicted Disease.)

thanks for reading.

forgive the ranting,

j.s.h.