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Saudi Arabian Sheikh, On the Eastern Road, You are the Sunlight, Psalm of the Spheres, The Drivers, Scarlet,

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Night of Years, Black Doves, I Can See Venus, Hello Jonah, Saleh, Apparition, Ho Chi Minh City, This Corpse is Dancing, Mt. Kilimanjaro, Helium, Blinded by the Sun, Butterfly

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Sibylline Heliotricity DOWNLOAD COMPLETE RECORDING Tracks:
Estrella, The Ballerina, Cup of Sun, Tides Part I, Tides Part II, The Solar Rowboat, Quiet Sleeps the Bison, Bullet Proof Vest

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A Collection of Beatles and Spiders

Bathe, Where Fish Learn to Fly and Birds Learn to Swim, Daedalus, song for the most beautiful susan, travelling song, logic, Mother I, A Collection of Beetles and Spiders, Been Driving for a Few Days Now

To read excerpts from his debut book of poetry and prose "CHAOS, THE CLOUDS, AND THE TONGUE".

And next, for your sniffing, snooping poetic enjoyment we here at h-e-l-i-o-3-ciudades-dot-you-no-whut bring two u...(drum roll)...

Tiny Bloom - by the above aforementioned Poet(aster)

What curious choreography whirls in your tiny architecture, what strange perfume
That perplexes each nostril that intoxicates my interior with an unusual blaze!

It is amazing tiny bloom how much room we have for exhilaration, for joy
How I wish! How I want! How I lie! In this immense valley of your effusion

It is on great wings somehow that I’ve arrived before you so many times reborn,
Torn from heights forlorn, from nights endless, nights irremediable and yet again born
into doubts, into droughts of elation, and again airborn on said feathers
completely untethered, catapulted into bouts seasonal, bouts spontaneous
of unmitigated animal jubilation all woes momentarily overtaking

It is that you are here so simply and fully reachable and real
You’ve fallen like yet another feather to this field
So lovely, so light, so alluring! so imbued with might of unknown origin
To overpower me

You are no poppy, no prison, no oily stinging nettle, no briar prickling with thistle
You so unbound within the suprise of each unfolding morning
Continually unravelling, engaging with each and every advance of wing, foot and feather

The bees too have found you! The Cicadas too sing of your mystery and your youth!
What precious pollen hold you in that immaculate evolution
What savory seduction, what pheremones never before known you have!

What persuasive power emanates from your tiny frame tiny bloom!
Tell me! Teach me! Unleash me into your radiance!
Believe in me! To be born from this enchanting instant
And thrust into your entirety, that tireless infinity
Let me be of and beyond those tremulous borders of you!

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Not All Grapes Go To Wine- by D.Sha(ms)

"cuyo diente
no perdonó a racimo, aun en la frente
de Baco..."

Luis de Góngora

Not all grapes smashed go to wine,
not so easily themselves do they find
In elegant nasal gardens with cigar and caviar hue entwined

No, not all grapes smashed go to wine,
some remain simply to imbue already purple toes
with a shade rosier hue
and never to cosy guts ever go
In fact some when smashed herald little juice
would hardly infuse the slightest rosy warmth bacchanalian

Some are grown in spoiled soil and so being
feel that they and they alone are somehow above toil
others by the moleish virtue of some peculiar flaw
having taken corruption from its aggressive constituents
are deemed refuse at birth, unfit for lawful use
banished from potential realms of mythological mirth
and doomed to dead dreams of gilded goblets and regal nosehairs

Others stubborn and unpatriotic refuse to employ their superdoted
(and consequently overdoted upon) graces
in favor of the country, region or vineyard
in which they were deployed
and squish not under foot

Others splash exceedingly when smashed
and mix badly with virile elements agile

Some are smashed on the vine, born wine you could say
inseparable from the leaves in which they are twined
From the soil and sun from which their nutrients sprung

Indeed great grapes spread a truly luxurious divan
So much so as to incite certain seeking souls
not only to abandon the suicide alternative
but in spite of themselves upon experiencing them to exlaim
“Tarry yet, though art so fair!” to the fleeting glorious moment...

Others break bottle after bottle seeking a solution
in which their hue could hide
Some grapes were made only to paint a blackbirds beak
Others smashed were simply weak
Because grapes great make slaves of your feet
then make slaves of even the most distinguished elite
Extinguishing the feeble fires
underneath any lengthy treaty on practical reason
Which is to say they just might flourish in your gypsy brain
like nights endless going to weeks that culminate in years

Grapes great seek great oceans to taint
Great rich bellies to paint

Aspire to launch their aromas and lounge
in lush and reknowned international gardens
Said aromas can be found socializing
in sophisticated French nosehairs,
Can be found exercising their uncanny art
in dense cigar thick capitalistic lairs
atop even the quivering weaves of vintage 1960s Italian orange and olive green mohair cardigan sweaters
bedecking recklessly the amorous night bedroom floor of a decadent Parisienne flat

Great grapes make to dance the atoms of a fine woman's brain
make bloom the tinkering thinkers subterranean refrain
into an unexpected romance

Great grapes make the dead to dance
to spring from the gap in the connoiseurs teeth
unsheathing their ancient saavy swords to spar
as far as in defunct russian tzars olfactory gardens

Let them slay! You would say just to see them,
Let them play! You would say, just to see them Let them play, newlywed upon old Bacchus’ brow
That’s what great grapes do!

But not all great grapes go to wine, its said
some sleep endless on an invisible vine
basking in the warmth divine of an eternal sun
never to be found by anyone!

And contrary to popular belief,
not all great grapes ought to be tasted
need not be wasted on pretentious whims or rich fools’ lips
which is to say some grapes are inimitable treasures,
not passing pleasures

Great grapes light subaquatic monkey fires in a neanderthal brain
make to suddenly rain smoldering phoenix feathers
in an isolated artic circle expanse

Great grapes speak in leagues paint Hermes boots
Paint a deep blue midnight a savory purple
Seed an elegant pageant upon a mute mutt tongue
Breed a broad banquet of astros
upon diligent buds unsuspecting

Great grapes smash again and again
upon the remote recesses of ones brain
bearing new gypsy frontiers
Savage yet refined,
resurrecting ancient olfactory sensation
impossible to define
mined explicitly from the uncanny sap
of Bacchus' legendary and lost noble brow.

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"There are as many paths to god as there are souls in this universe..."
Sufi quote