Julio Peralta-Paulino
http://pages.ivillage.com/thewriter2004

Julio Peralta-Paulino is currently working on several writing projects.   "Blue sestina (Beat song of love)" there is a changing gypsy frequency a current that is my only ideal weaving as wishes through urgency this storm is my alphabet flooded by the pounding evening without pearl certainty of revolution & there is always cause for revolution never lay beholden to the same frequency as that ever burning sun gives lay to evening & moon cycles turn the shapes of a tide's ideal feel it in my hands the birth of babe's new alphabet sooner than you can heal or hurry past this urgency i pour what my lungs have borrowed from a storm's urgency to create intention with designs of surreal revolution the sounds rush as reality streams of my alphabet without spelling limits of speed or dreams with its frequency & it's a wonder that again transforms my ideal i am the mask i am the face stealing from evening i am the hollow void of evening & i bend in to beseech upon your urgency i will surrender to the new ideal only to seek out comfort in another's revolution & find there a similar type of frequency like some olden day's common time alphabet to compare with hieroglyphs into the evening i string beads of the new born alphabet the sounds seem narrow yet it is a wide frequency describing life & love with this slow urgency i need no war to walk through the doors of this revolution while mine & your mirrors only confuse my turning ideal & these reflections incite your own ideal time high to recite a little alphabet time to time the true revolution despite the calling fall of evening & the coming fire of dawn's urgency through the blue alive with a loving frequency inside the heart's small alphabet is that simple frequency roaming sweet through outside howls of urgency between ideal & unsure revolution of moonlit evening © Julio Peralta-Paulino 2004 "Subterranean Sonnet" something mechanical forms to inform something bold as ice that will not melt an eternal rest neath wintery storm as the hairs fall from a once mossback pelt bodies soon cool & seek comfort alone as kings asking for affirmation to tighten the tourniquet of rough stone with quick turns to blind all sensation feels perfect you might say complete as if van gogh drew from us when we were pear trees all alone & worse than medusa's myth for perseus is gone and we may freeze thru these larva years without touch of love or lick of sun's warm poison from above © Julio Peralta-Paulino 2004 "Thirst" flat dreams hook the feathers something turning radical and pale beneath the heart of a waning moon the wandering light country night...dylan singing ring of fire... underestimated ash from my cigarette falls on the walking floor while the flesh of cake hardens and i wonder if purity is melting your charge-words are awake my coffee cup empty © Julio Peralta-Paulino 2004 "Dust Upon That Sea" the container is dressed meanwhile the nude is buttoning the milk her eyes are dragging a look at apparitions the cup chambers are filled with honey and armpit hairs grass in the outskirts of the square is growing sleveless flowers stand bored without the humming of ungloved bees villagers are hiding the virgins from the all too anxious midwives the cow says i cannot know animosity and smiles the moon is a changing voice that talks in scarves mind night rolls into the poem yet the ancient shoppe only deals in elastics the imagination tries to be flexible visions ride on the blue nodding waves the ether is eating up the drinking down agent perhaps everything is the way it should be © Julio Peralta-Paulino 2004 "The High Seas" an itinerant breeze itches within billows of the high seas as long forgotten corpses corrode a vessel stabs the salt filled waves onward across known waters beneath clearing skies clouds scatter afar with decrescent exuberance while some thoughts lay as if law uncomfortable by the shore and its lines my heart still tangled in her hands inside personal imageries where the overfalls occur and reoccur overtaking the present madness love awaits the gambler negotiates an ocean to navigate memory said traveling, trailing a song that was sailing © Julio Peralta-Paulino 2004 "First Days of A Fall" i am going to say this once for you please do not forget to remember me as winter makes the sunlight hours few stray days of blue shift to a darker hue to better balance the long night's sally i am going to say this once for you beware that everything sold is not new to hear the weather told is not to see as winter makes the sunlight hours few thin splinters of rain predict what is true forecasting a future that will flow free i am going to say this once for you first days of a fall stall to speak a clue please don't forget to remember me as winter makes the sunlight hours few life's enterprise lessens without rescue until we listen to love's simple plea i am going to say this once for you as winter makes the sunlight hours few © Julio Peralta-Paulino 2004