Aeppel; LVR

or

Laevus Levus Aeppel

Poetess of the 5th Dimensional Church of Confusion.
She is a full-time contributer to the Ministry in Santa Monica, CA.

Words marked by a youthful spirituality of sci-fi antiquity.

She is currently a writer, art reviewer for OvationTV.com.  She is also actively composing poetry and working on her trilogy, speculated to be finished by 2011. She is available to read poetry at most venues.

View some of her Ovation articles here

“Come cuervos, saca ojos, muerta e risa, desnuda, pálida y muerta, crucificadota, estupida, vulva, torre negra, pornografía infantil, ciencia vieja, esposa virgen, olla y secadora, alquimista abstracta, rota, astronauta perdida, baúl de cartas, callada y dormida, domesticada, violadora, palomita, amarga, viento entre sabanas, dorada, ni la lluvia tiene manos tan pequeñas, luz andante, rara, judas, la letra L cursiva.

Aqui mori.” ~LVR

When he said please, 
the air seeped between the gap in his teeth 
slapping the s against its glass
and whistled unknowingly, a sliver of a thought
like a microscopic thread, unraveling from his palate.
I smiled, my tongue against pearl cylinders, 
unconsciously, my body hints at his slip. 
I must be careful now,
and modulate skillfully
the hand sown lining of my yes. 

~Aeppel; LVR

Experimental Compositions Part III

 

A)

III

The words are lacking
they illuminate
crunching eye lids
my cisterns add sighs
and jests of rosy romances
are my crown of thorns
i fall on the throne
but i eat the grass like a cow
(a voice tells me from heaven)
sustain, sustain, sustain.

B)

III

My sister is coming
her fingers painting the cement of my walls
like serpents, she carves on my door
with her sexual system
oh, my ravenous little runner
my geometric athlete
she knit a wooden home for herself
she chiseled atop her trampler’s cranium
now she can sleep again.

C)

III

In my mind
play me a tune
with monsooning trumpets
vibrating
racketing my torso
by the screeching locusts
such little wings burn me
by their invasive grammar;
crunch your violas
fold them into plates
for my delicious prunes
with their lemon accomplices.
Under the morning stone, I listen
where you are.

D)

III

Name for yourself the mountain
loosen the sun with your eyes
as you wake from the stupor of your sheet
listen to the romance of your omnipotence!