The Hue Of Humanity

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THE HUE OF HUMANITY poems by leum



“A great cry went up from the stockyards and slaughterhouses, and Death, tired of complaint and constant abuse, withdrew to his underground garage.” - Stephen Dobyns



My heart’s borrowed galaxies, almost there my temperance, faint impossible goodbye pulsing like a river wound in my blood.



the blue sets an orange fade

How many times have I walked through the fire

just to end up at the waters of your heart

In the sun bathing wake of a thousand swords

count the shadows



hey kid they wanna burn you until you’re alive scrounging for all the miracles

I will hear thunder and all. You will purse your lips With a muddled crown.

birds diving in the rain

It’s always about a girl who ate up my world.

It’s always about the words you never cared to sell


the shadows diving

I spend days

relaxing

about my grave.

I write my

secrets

on the dregs of endless coffee cups.


Mashes Sands Tide This is to

I the red fish

where mostly families of hermits by the rocks keep company to dead trees and their poetry. The echo and reverb, blue eyes shimmering, shattering.

Nonetheless, albeit the mess, the angels sing along.



i saw the summit of endless possibility your hair was as fire as an afternoon golden sunset i could swear i saw all the shadows around you run so fast away

all the leads & needs baby

an enemy no longer in front of me

it’s a big world out there, you really think you can destroy it all?

i could care less about your style, girl


all i want is your smile

we sunset the beginning chapter to this nonsensical novel

nowadays, there’s an assistant to the assistant

soft top, orange pop

waiting for these bells these unforsaken bells

always the lighthouse on the far end to the left

i think it’s time


it’s time it’s time for tomorrow

righteous feather

the drop of dew is yet to drop

too many people waiting on the other line

it’s still almost midnight



The trains whistle their weep, engorged by shadows they keep. I a fool from A to Z, my heart the sail to sea. Before my love became the reef, a white ibis atop would sing. I eat my vowels up for free, hold my treasures on a tree. Final unwavering spring, the noir judgment all dream. And Christ on an office chair waiting, while we’re stuck in the elevator thinking.



Fishing from the rooftops on my paradise of a mountain where the sky and sea blend, I see the golden skinned ride their bikes wild.



Where did you fall first? Was it in Heaven or in Hell?

I love this painting but, Take out the guns. Add in more light.





A mythical obsession with my death. The end to all ends. A monastery for the lyrics I can’t forget. Whatever shadows fall next.




All Rights Reserved © 2022 Luis E Utrera Morales


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