Don Lambo' Profile

Love is shameful, but only so
when love has been ashamed
A gate torn down in unison,
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When fires frothed between the wakes
forgotten past the hill,
despite their blindnesses, I waved
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With nowhere to go;
a pleasant end from hello,
is always then murder, a fellow?

I knew by the plaid;
he’d always been mad,
but driven to murder, a fellow?

Whichever one sees;
why would I keep a friend
who could murder a fellow with ease?

Every verse had been unforgettable, 
But apart, each verse is a fray 
And presently, I can’t seem to spare a word, 
So I’ll write her a novel someday 
  
We’re willing to hurdle the obstacles, 
Because an unbridled day is ahead 
And at the end of the day, I’ll write it by night, 
Then say I was sleeping instead 
  
It’ll come once I’m ready to recollect, 
I have fragments, but the entire design 
I foresee every line, inspired by diamonds, 
That are rough until I make them shine 
  
I don’t believe in unfinished destiny 
I’m on borrowed time to bide, 
And I promise if you promise to wait for me, 
So I can patiently wait by your side. 

The illusive autonomy of pain,
that veils the vital pair:
Ubiquity of purpose, and
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Here, they say, encased by brick
and copper buttresses,
beneath a ragged banner --
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That blinding iridescence
of unfolding intellect,
and knowledges, unbounded;
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I lived on dread; to those who know         
The stimulus there is
In danger, other impetus
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Much Madness is divinest Sense - 
To a discerning Eye - 
Much Sense - the starkest Madness - 
’Tis the Majority 
In this, as all, prevail - 
Assent - and you are sane - 
Demur - you’re straightway dangerous - 
And handled with a Chain - 
  
Such Sadness is a joyous Hymn - 
When sung specifically – 
And Joy - forlorn Disparity - 
A sordid Lullaby 
Those who balance tenderly - 
Glow - but still unseen - 
Smile - a fluorescent pall - 
With symphonies between -  

I heard tomorrow’s dirge today,
and passed it through my ear
It was the blackest tone, to which
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