Baritone Waters

His sound waves into Her ears

His root can’t deny it

Her mind wanders to defy it

Their vines intertwine the bones

This moment is real

It is as real as day

As real as the Sun makes rays

As real as the Earth and Moon gravitate

As real as the sky brings rain

He is Her Cain

He opens wounds

Removing the disease of the last one


That last one who

She fell as The Fool

Ancestors watching Her burn into new

On Her bed of fire He blew

From the flames came the truth

To the ocean They go

To the motion They move


©Keota D. Picou

photo source



I’m so glad you came

Spoke you out

Nothings the same

Should we be ashamed?

Hail No

Time’s a made up frame

They don’t know

It’s all the same

We watch their lessons play

Shout to Me

Their faces shout to Me

Fingers stretched

No breath left

I shake my sweat

Their eyes scream

My heart

My hell

My love

They’ve kept

For them I pluck the strings


Phoenix and Owl


The Blackest Boots

If she’s a little exhausted of a type like you…

She might just take a walk in her favorite boots

Through the dust as they fall

Kicking the rocks in the sand

Grinding her heels into the sockets of skulls

Relieving the destruction of man


Verboten hands

Just like the disease in children

They wish they can

Sometimes you need a demon to smite a monster

At times you need lava to smother the flames

Here she laces her boots

Over and over again

Written by Keota Picou

Echoed by Owl of the South

Sunrises are romantic and soft

Late October mornings feel like arms around my waist

The early sky whispers in my ears

All the answers to reflections I question

I wondered if this cloud knew

Sunsets are passionate and wild

Like a caress on the neck

Something more than a bite on the lip

The night wind chills my skin

Just like the trails of a lover’s finger nails as they pull me in

I bet the moon feels our secrets

I see the crows like to watch

I know the wolves can hear me sing

And my lover chants to the owls for mercy

I will not choose the universe’s sunrises or sunsets

That perfect seventh hour found me

And I intend to be fair

I remember that need

Waking up to morning dew on the skin

Feels like love

Which is the most righteous sin

By Keota Picou

Photo Source

Silently Loud (II)

I would like to be photographed as a silhouette. So they will see all of me.

Every inch they will have to read. And every mile in their minds they will have walked with me.

Yes they rationalize to hold me in. I break the boxes. I damage floors.

My gut is stretching I suppose.

Call me Phoenix

Photography by Nilo Burkhart

Model: Keota Picou