Alto Lee Thomas, Jr.

I reckon that your eyes and lips have long been known to me.
I would know you by your eyes alone.
Your lips, when parting by degrees, unleash your voice to me
In harmonies like angel's songs.
...

I stand before the open grave
As dirt, by handfuls, slowly trickle down to coffin's lid.
We greet each other's reddened eyes with tearful smiles
And gaze down upon the remnants of our longtime friend.
...

As curtains rise,
Lain paralyzed
He is first apprised
Our star;
...

When comes

The chill
...

Purified by trial
And suffering;
Pain paints,
The clearest picture,
...

Life is short and unpredictable …
So strewn with pits and faults…
Wars and sorrows,
Death and stress….
...

From nothingness in dreamless slumber
Three-quarter-year devoid of light.
Thought wakens spawned from gurgled voices
Whispered … yet … similiar sources,
...

Life's essence ebbs in metered spews of frosted broken breaths;
He trudges up that final slope, exposed in mottled flesh.
All failing thew on grinding bones, this winded rusted train,
Masks agony in coats of hopes; his body's last betrayal.
...

At last, he's turned the final corner
Of the blur, that was his life.

He peaked at such an early age
...

Man, I got it sooooo bad that:
If I was kidnapped,
Rendered unconscious,
And involuntarily
...

"Shhhhhh …."

A distant fluttering of wings
Its whisper sets my heart to sing
...

Weighing sums of new emotions,
The stuff that binds us to our tears,
Ensnares by comfort's numbing notions
Cloistered thoughts from mounting years.
...

The scent of sweet magnolia breath,

Revealed in fits, when spring's breeze sneezes,
...

Dat’ bastaad masta’

Creepin’ drunk to da quatahs’
When nighttime come
...

I've witnessed color's many wonders.
Savored the scent of angel's breath.
Begged forgiveness for my blunders,
Embraced the loving side of death.
...

The mystery so long concealed

Has come at last to be revealed
...

The very sweetest child;
Who at her birth was laid upon my chest.
I swear then, as now, her flitting heartbeat
Was ever synchronized to mine...
...

As darkness falls, a silent figure slithers forth on stockinged feet
Muffled steps on hardwood floors breached bedroom door without a creak
Uneven steps mark the time as lips seeks trough to slake this squalor
Conscience left postponed for now; as lava runs white hot and shallow
...

There sounds the chirping mandolin,
And, in sympathy, chimes violins
Our symphony did thus begin
That takes me back to you
...

If the circumstance was different, love,

I would 'waken to your touch.
...