And the Waste Room Tips

There's this wisdom light
that flows through the body...Rejoice!

the bead

turns gold
folding over
curving over
mantle
dripping into fire
big socks
giant socks
full of
marination

bundled
bagged
big socks
tied up
full of marination
ready for christmas ties

big socks
filled with
gold teeth
melting
folding over
over mantle
dripping into fire
over and over
big socks
over filled
tied
filled
tied to
deep cavities
cracking deep
blue tile
wasting room
gold waste
immersed in
liking and disliking
christmas ties
full marination
dripping
into big socks
filled with favors
tied
bundled
in giant stock

pummeled straight to your heart

giant socks
filled with gold teeth
cracking deep
blue tile
waist deep
waste holes
waste room
all the way to earth

the smell is foul
rejoice!

Sleeping Position 2

Closing palms
catch the light
in 2 places
sitgmatic mountains
grow an iris
pulling out crystals
caught in lining
of nearsightedness

diminished
in 2 places
snagged ears
caught in 2 places
pulled out
nearsightedness
diminished
shipped on a bed
oversize haul
out to
stigmatic mountains
dilated
open
diminished

suddenly
the bed
the blankets
the rice bag
under my palm
over my chest
diminish

suddenly
I am left

sleeping positions
12:00 position 1
1:30 postition 2
(left lung to inner eye
right lung to antennae)
2:45 position 3
3:30 position 4
4:55 position 5
5:20 position 6
Position 7 and on
unknown to me

1:30 Position 2
a natural position for lift off
sinking to sleep...
sinking to Elysian Fields...
sinking home...
2 places...
stigmatic mountains...
suddenly...

Sleeping Positions 1

through a night
outside forms
appear

suddenly
the bed
disappears
the blankets
disappear
the rice bag
under my palm
over my chest
disappears

suddenly
I am left

sleeping positions
12:00 position 1
1:30 postition 2
2:45 position 3
3:30 position 4
4:55 position 5
5:20 position 6

Position 7 and on
unknown to me

turning my head
sleeping next to me
scratching and wailing
wakens me
puts me
next to me
to sleep

Nudge Pudge

Ice cubes melting
overhead
cool tongue
slight lisp
for real words...

Makers pint
dryspell marionette
beheaded doll
frozen dry
falling stone lake
Snow
Well done
Toast
Congratulate
Bread
Ode to bacon
Breakfasting on
Old classics
Moat of mildew
Churning buttermilk odes
Dinged matrimony changing scale

You Fill in the Blank

Comfort sounds

excuses sound _______
explanations sound_______

something comforting
in the sound of ______

something comforting
in the smell of _______

comfort sounds _______

comfort smells ________

qualities of ________ smell blank, sound flat, look straight...

What fills your blanks?

Loose Tourniquets

Green leaf ribbons
Spiral orange
rubber tourniquets
splash yellow burst
caterpillar mittens
glow soft fuzz milk
ladled rubber tubes
slipped nostrils
home breathing
milk tourniquets
out nostrils
pour tourniquets
out home
spiral out
screws loose
unhinge
pour tourniquets
out nostrils
wiggle out caterpillar
out loose
tourniquets
wiggle out compression
out home
pour compression
out wiggling milk
milking height
Loose compression

Flossing Venom

Slide the sticky venom
from your mouth
See how it catches
so easily
to pulled strings...

venom puppets
growing between my teeth...

Sneaky bastards
like to hide in tight places...
Between clean teeth
Laid out beneath my pillow
Looking to steal change...

Venom puppets
Hide in cavities
Beneath my sleeping head...

Positions

Positions today
character coin
carried
Positions hands
find character
sketch new
Earth today
Rocks
Positions carried
Rocks notes
Today
New
Positions
Strings
Around
Head porch
Kitchen
Storage
Fireplace
Group
Positions
Loose
Lense
Tied
Around
Positions
New
Earth
Today
Rocks
Positions
But
dance
Characters
cleaning supplies
Storage
Position
Notes
Today
New
Earth
Rocks
Loose
Positions

Red Cathedrals

Shooting stars
You pull me out that way
Out rounded by gravity
Masses of faded image
Rubbed down to ground
Shooting stars in your direction
Visible pathways
That dart your eye
Like the tail end flash
Running through red
Red eyed spiders
Hatching lightening and flash floods
You think last forever
but only last five minutes...

Expiration reveals itself in time...
and then...
On to a different container...

Shooting stars
You pull me in this way
Like creosote
Giving life to my smell
with your hot breath
I see stars
Shooting in all directions
From then to now
will to now
dream to now
else to now
cells to now...

One special rock out of trillions,
I like to call mine...
MY...
MY...
MY...

It's quiet here.
There's a cricket behind the toilet.
It stops chirping when I sit down.
I'm quiet here.

Then...

Foreign matter
suck me deep into ground
in search for water...
Smells like burning
Shades formed in mid sentence
Filled with hot air
bursting onto the horizon
like hot plates
served to your saliva
Upon waking
from hardened lava
Stratified by my conditioning...
my hike towards something greater...
MY conditioning...
MY...
MY...
MY...

It's overwhelmingly soft here...
Amongst all this red rock...
cold marble
soft sand
and salt stars
vaulted in the formation of my eye...

This exists...
allowing existence...
and I'm here...
Scared to revel at my own beauty.
Scared to revel at my own death.

MY...
MY...
MY...

It's quiet here.

Next 2 days of poems will be posted on Monday

Jungle Soup

I concentrate on a bowl of soup
flushed clear with surprise.

As I look closer into this bowl of clear soup, a story is revealed:

Jungle man paints a woman.
She follows him up a tree
and gets bitten by 2 large snakes
bigger than the  tree trunk.

She becomes as wild as he.

Jungle man paints a diagonal line
on the side of his weathered house.
He does this in a very precise manner,
flipping the paintbrush-

End to brush
Brush to end
End to brush
Brush to end

He finishes by smothering
the end of the line.

Much like a swinging donkey tail.

Beneath My Curtain

Beneath my curtain
moan of owl
wail of woman

GREAT DROPS

bellow
beating heart
kicking baby
Beneath my curtain

SAIL UP

like Marilyn's wail
swimming beneath
my curtain

MOANS,
WAILS,
HOWLS,
KICKS,
BEATS,
BELLOWS,
SAILS

beneath

my curtain

my curtsey

GREAT BENDS

to Powers greater than

myself beneath my curtain...

Blue Mask Well

I know how to carry water well.
First pick water from a well
and carry it with full attention.
Observe its being.
I look at a picture
of water carrying
in the wall.
I'm looking with full being
at its full being.

Back the Glass

Lobster catch rinds
of one word answer
for the ladies
in their back pocket
where colored glass
gets backed
by missing book covers
short stories
frayed on their legs
of Swiss hay
offered on truck beds
full of stacked parenthesis
on board
red powdered blush
laid from a hen
in Kentucky mailbox
spilling over static
medallions name
big voices
on missing covers
racket playing
nets for lobster catch
one word answer
for the ladies
where there is no charge
for the line that
holds my weight
of fish.

Hello

A simple hello contains alot of energy.

energy for the next meal
and a clean home

enough to move mountains
in my home

infused with yellow
flagged messages

tucked behind a grimoire

daring you to gather
onions close to your nose
with open eyes

gathering hair
substantial enough
to pull

open my eyes

I wish not to sleep
in the scent of grease.

Attraction of the Word

A child reads a letter
written by a less than
middle aged woman.

There are 2 sentences.

Each letter is connected
to another letter.
There are spaces too.

The child says the writing
is very good.
It is clear and childlike.

None Lady

Old woman
Grows through leaves
Clovers slip from
Slits in her eyes
Melting like snowflake
Onto her tongue
Taste of mopheads
Flower on each bud
Makes her blurp
Dustbowls hollow
In her cheeks
Carved into
Picket corner
Honking doll drums
In the noontime sun

On axis.

Turning freely.

Yellow Caterpillar

I find a yellow caterpillar
on a kitchen counter...

It's fat & juicy.
It has a moist sheen.

It jumps off and takes flight in the air!
Whizzing erradically!
Like it's trying to break free
and get out!

Whizzing, whizzing
back and forth...
Making sharp ZZZs in the air!

Out comes a butterfly!
With fresh wilting wings...
still a little crumpled
from being inside all the time...
Its colors are muted.

AND THEN...

It's wings get bright!
and strong!
and big!
and vibrant with color!

It is born with me...
so it's not afraid to land on my finger.

A Burdock Game

Matching places of bur
golden watermelon seed
skipping along burdock lakes
beds prepared by geisers
old ones who expell
golden raindrops
playing chords
on the organ
of smell
as marbles
scramble like seed
toward another game
of cartoon watching comfort
positioned for catching marbles
toward the other game one plays.

Life happens... as we make plans.

Returning Aids

I sent out an appeal
for correction
and it flew back at me
like a boomerang
of soft hands...
in motion...

toward or away?

toward or away?

Towards AND a way
to returning aids... those soft hands in motion for my appeal.

Flattened Chicken

I pounded you
with a mallot of warnings
Wrapped tight with clear,
synthetic, invisible seals
on the best surface
for cutting meat
and keeping clean
My lips
falling off
the counter,
easy to wipe free
the remains
of fresh growth
tossed in the pan
or in the can.

Frozen Ants

Polyp prone
Tails and pipes
Viewings through
underwater glass
Underwater gas
Sea green
Pinhole snoring
Loud snoring
From pinholes
Dark underwater
Wiping out the tide
of safety measured pride
Dark underwater
Blocked out geometry
Above your head
Where cold storage safekeeping
Attracts ants in the heat of
day breakage
Where they die in relief...
In the heavy of possibility
and the cool of likeness...

Will you come alive outside your safekeeper?

Origins of Translated Gibberish

gibberish (German)

engolten (einholen)
meiner (meiner)
frei (frei)
mesteiten (mitteilen)
cholung (scholle) (eisscholle) (erdscholle)
entoltung (enthalten)
joinen (johlen)
menschen (menschenkette)
stung (stumm)
jefushung (justierung)
meichug (meinung)
leichteg (leicht)
wine

Translated Gibberish

To pull in               (To pull in)

What is mine          (what is mine)
My people
My family
People like me
Myself
My own kind

Free                      (free)
Free of

To tell                   (to tell)

A place                 (a place of ice and clod)
ice flow                
clod of earth       
   
To contain             (contains)
Hold

To howl                 (the howl)

Human chain          (the human chain)

Dumb                    (mute)
Mute
Silently

Adjustment            (adjustments)
Justification

Opinion

Light                      (of light)

Wine

In One Day

I'm so full right now
I can barely speak...
so Let's try:

In one day

I traveled
so near.

This place I long to live.

It is mapped here
by a string
so deep
within the cracks
and crevices
that I can barely speak
so Let's try:

In one day

I danced on a lotus in china
Tasted a Russian trio
Trekked through the shire in Mexico
and died in India...

In one day

you drop me
where I need to be
amongst pots of gold
where all is exposed
if you let it be
Angel city...

Contradictions
around every corner
in your being
you drop me
where I need to be
you take care of me
Angel city...

And there's walking!
Alot of walking
with all your questions
and imperfections
driving through public
open airways
you sing to me
a beautiful growing
rubble of birth...
Reminding me this:

what turns me away
is my turning away...

Angel city
You drop me
where I need to be
and when I can't see you
All I need to do is ask...

And you drop me
where I need to be.

I love you angel city... all in one day.

GO

GO
Burden up the housetops
Heart panting on the table for fear

GO in the daytime
before days fallen
is fallen
fall in to the ground
fallen
traveling tables
fixing fear
unto the ground
for panting hearts
set on the table

GO in the daytime
before it falls
panting on the ground

GO traveling heart
panting on the table
Burning up the housetops

GO before it falls
up on the table
in the daytime
on the ground

GO now
GO now

Covering

Covering
the insides of my eye
Swell out poetic
Hooves
Milestones
Tightly placed
Where none dare go
Tell me what you see from here...
An expression
Ornate with age
And many pieces of
Squared eye
Tilted head
Inside my eye
Where none dare go
Willing vessels
Bearing expression
Covering
Where I may go
Through messages
Torn above air
Showing what I see from here:

There is no such thing as inanimate objects.

They're moving

It's moving

We're moving

I'm not on drugs.

Collecting Fractions

I've been out today
collecting
Leaking out of open
windows collecting
Light scratches
Fractions formulas
Leaking passing over
Collecting free
Filters passing over
Light scratches
Passing free today
Over collecting
Leaking free
Reading fractions
Formula
Free formed
Body
What if
Light scratched
If I were to
Open
Is it full
tonight?

Tin House Lady

I heard a woman read tonight...
and delighted in the simple complexity
of her flavors...
That sharp edge for taking note
of what goes unnoticed or rather
unsaid and framed so that
I can distinctly recall
an image clear enough
to say I was there...

a delightful surprise
to my pallet...
so that is what clarity
in the moment and the word
can bring...

But what I really noticed
was the "eeeeeeeee"
where I would normally
say "iiiiiii",
and the small, sharp
quick turns in head
and the slight hop
with each exhaled word...

and what I really noticed?
the smile that crept on my face
as I listened...

and what I really noticed?
the smile was honest.

Dead Owls

I'm trying to listen.
I've talked so much
that my voice has
become muffled behind
cotton stuffing-
the stuff you're stuffed with
when you wake
to parrots
reciting the news of the hour:
life has escaped
our definitions...

I admit to
cotton pulling
this understory
of dead owls
pinned to my sleep...
Tearing open my ears
wide enough to be stuffed
with parots.

Butterfly Catcher

How memory
Speaks through
our speech
Building coral reefs
In understanding
Like hard water
Through a faucet mouth
Minerals then layered
and chipped free
with a steak knife
which has outgrown
it's taste for beef.

How memory
speaks through
Our speech
ground down to
High powers
Of reasoning.

How memory
Speaks through
Our speech
Ground down
To fine powders
Of seasoning.

A flavor
blown away
by a strong muscle
for listening.

Wide Eyes Watching

Lone mother
In a womb
Tied to pieces

Lone father
Blinking blind
Touching fine
Locks of golden
Skillet blues
Slapped on
Your face of
Many mines...

Pancake womb
Tied to many pieces
Slapped on
Many mines
of bulging
Can take womb
Shake up wide eyes
Watching deeply
Wide eyes
Wanting deeply
Wide eyes
Caught in question
Wide eyes... reaching in.

Stone Fish

Stone fish
Pellet eyed
Whiskey curls
Lapped up
Triangular
Fittings
Between molten
Folds
Compressed
To clay moldings
Borderline
Cracked
In heat
Below my feet
Filling teeth
With sweet corn
Popped
Between molten
Cobble stone fish
Pellet eyed
Screaming sleepy
City sax
Ringing trolley tracks

Nameless

We sauntered here...
Chattering about some nonsense
rippled in our genes...
Which person you speak in
dyes your voice
with colored hues...
tones I've heard so much,
I don't hear them...
Colors arose
and someone said
white.

Who called it?
The question arose
and fell upon
a passing sun...

A glimpse
of a real hand
in wild shock
of pure light...

It's many times here...
These hands...
are many times here...

bare.
shocked.
found moving
caught here...

a passing sun and
a shade changed
frozen hands
on a block of wood...

and we tied up this
time of hands...
we tied up this
time of hands...

Into many lines
between two points...
Straight.
Fine.
Definite.
Delusional.

Points then scattered about...
Many lines...
Many times...
and somewhere...a star forms.

Get Up With It

Meddled bread rows
Banana bread eyes
heart shaped cake paws
close-up and detailed
metal flaked trim cake
squeezed out
piping and icing

Get up with it
Hound of horses
Flattened and smeared
to half real figures

Tissue flags fly
posters for a guilty meal
of sundown wreaths
and ornamental knocks
for target maps
in a range of baked
good music is everywhere

Have Patience

My stray bookends
Toolplace low bit kitchen
No chairs
Low to the ground
Low lit
Blocks of wood
Flat on the wall
Rounded around
A corner room blue
Sky blue daylight
Coming to shoot the grass
Tied up with a rainbow
Squiggle
Angry clown twin buddy
Button cream puff
Clouded
Spiky thorn amebic creature
Baked in mud daylight

Withholding

Yes, I feel as though I've been withholding...
This feeling that my dear ones are a blessing...
the humanity contained in my eye could make a heart break...
my heartbreak.
That I am so in love with the other
that for a moment... emptiness...
and then nowhere am I.

Withholding the tires wrapped around my neck...
and the rubber silt in my chest...
Breathing to be let out..

Withholding...
Withholding that...

In this word is my mind
and the sound goes missing...

Withholding that...
My hand glides across this page
and my fingers do a few shakes
back and forth and there goes...

Withholding...
the crickets I hear...
the rug beneath my feet...
the breathing... and there goes...

Withholding...
the words cross a page...
and I'm missing the sound
from which they came...
Withholding.

Terra Australis Incognita

Two identical drawers of tableware
White deep & shallow...
Opened with a golden knob...
The size of a marble.

Each drawer
Containing a poem
Tucked into the back right corner...
Similar mouths shaped on each page...

"I sound" - the same.

...a diagonal pattern of words - little symbols - pointed out by a fawn.

SMALL PICTURES intimately connected
to picture taking in the Arctic.

I am shocked...
These mouths shaped from before.
These mouths shaped are not new.

Kongming

A 3 tiered hot air balloon house.
3 levels.
The bottom level is for toilets.
The middle level is for dining.
The top level is for sleeping,
though the air is quite loud.

I slip a basket weave sleeve,
the size of a modest castle,
over the entire balloon house.
The air becomes very dark,
lacking views.

Upon removal of the sleeve,
the hot air balloon house
appears to be
a white rice paper lantern.

Under the Pavement

Under the pavement, mother...
Under the pavement, my mother...

The wind carries a group of seeds
to this place
There grew a forest...

Under the pavement, mother...
Under the pavement, bare mother...

The wind carries a seed
to this place
There grew a city...

Under the pavement, mother...
Under the pavement, bare mother...

The wind carries seed
to this place
Here grows a net...

Angel City, mother...
Under the pavement, mother...
Under the pavement, bare mother...

You carry my feet, Angel City, my mother...

Touchscreen Thumb Dance

I stick my thumb through the fence
and the links clamp
down on them like
sneaky monster jaws
yelling -
TAAAAP!
YOU THUMB, TAP!!
I WANT TO SEE YOU DANCE, THUMB, DANCE!!

and my little thumb
does its little jiggity-jig-jig
tappity-tap-tap...
It's taps it's way
all the day...

tap tap tap shuffshuffle send

Train in Vain

Now carried by a train - a coastline current
of bored children
walking narrow aisles
confined to narrow tracks
rythm blanks
between mangled machines
revelations of breath and sky

And a simple question thrown over my shoulder:
rock, paper, scissors?

Back out in the fields
speckled slang-slung shoulders,
hunched mountain backs
of quenched DO-ers...
Tight pocket pinching greens
called sweat-slung chance,
big-break broken limbs,
wheel-eaten legs,
mouse-chopped hands,
screen-sucked eyes,
chopped heads of
let us be on automatic safety
pilot flipping channels
formed to water analytical greens
predicting the future claim formed redemption

the ONE

the ANSWER

Lures you into narrow aisles
of narrow aisles of
thinking too hard about
thinking too hard about
thinking too hard about
thinking too hard about
see how straight this is?
thinking too hard about
thinking too hard about
thinking too hard about
thinking too hard about...

narrow aisles confined to narrow tracks

oh dear

the power of limits...

The Sound of I

I word
I letter
IIIIIIIII
I word
I letter
IIIIIIIII
Occurs
of the
head.
I.

Bicycle Crater in Mexico

A collection
of young bodies
throw bicycles
into a ditch-
green,
natural,
preserved
in Mexico.

Collections
call away
by appearance
of false law
fading to reveal
a GIANT-HUNGRY-GREEN
cricket devouring the skeleton
of a bicycle!

The collections
regather a preserve
voiced together
by a string of
broken beads.

One young body
feeds on a water trough,
questioned by one of the same.

Another young body
somersaults in an
old schoolhouse.
Sheer in appearance
of false law.





Collection time
Gather preserve
for young bicycle thrown crater
of green Mexico
giant green cricket
devour bicycle frame thrown crater

Raking Leaves

A 3 million minute mile
Of wasted paper
Bundled in your tights
Breathes a justification
Cuniform gilded
Blankness
Beyond the measured
Scale...
Mention... Dimentia
Toppled over shortforms
And long hands
Snakelike and wormy
Full of holes and deliberation...
which be will the next be...
Consistent wanderings of the imagination...
Mechanized clocks tuned to the urn of time...
Bless this wishing well...
So deeply burrowed in earth...
So perfectly rounded to the sky...
And it's own inner resistance.

3 Pianos

The Gate:

This piano clothes the whole
length of a white tiled wall... about 25 linear feet.
It's top just barely reaches the ceiling and it is
black lacquered and shiny... very fine.


The Restroom:

This piano is short.
It is 25" above ground and 5' wide.
There are dry chalky toothpaste stains
along the centerline- frame & keys.
There is a waterspout
coming out of the middle frame.


The Delicacy:

This piano slightly smaller
than the previous one.
Most of it's keys are
a brown like toffee candy.
Some are black and others
are white like white rabbits.
This one plays well.

Recession Haircut

I woke at 4 AM this morning to a DREAM which stated:  "The grounds you reach for IS the grounds you seek change in."

Baby bird,
You sing so sweetly
in a word...

Babyyyy~~~bird.

I found a little shrine behind the bushes...
A little house with a large bulb in each room...
There were dolls and elephants...

A little lady snuck up behind me with her wishes.
She spoke to me of her sick husband
and told me this is where she goes
so that one day
she may come home...

This made sense to me.... AND...
I found out where to get a recession haircut.

I came home to fireworks again...
and crickets.

The world close to me sings
when I'm silent enough to hear it.

Baby bird,
You sing so sweetly
in a word...

Babyyyy~~~bird.

My neighbor picked me some thyme, oregano,
rosemary, and sage...

I said thank you, I will have good dreams tonight.

Today needs no embellishment...
Today needs nothing more than what it is...

I'm not ashamed to say - It is good.

Is chinese capitalized?

I, I at sometimes detachment who humility I
Why yes! One I, I there I Chinese
when tradition when life in. Like when
I sometimes in an I there I worry.
As legends a one in the, the how when
step when, when step since in slowly.

May in Chinese by when fear what my.
The a in forgiveness one I after while.
Most Chinese normally tradition I so
I, I life as it tradition. How I each one
two we Chinese in the Chinese a every after
I'm I a Chinese. I'm a I my there...

I some just suddenly it clearly I've sometimes...

Although I my I, the when I Chinese
do the when as, as I as many
when. When the one I one it's when...

So sometimes step by sometimes, sometimes
step Chinese. Just we
Chinese insanity I'm I step! I for keep!

To for although sometimes Chinese,
how I when feeling I as
before everyone Chinese. I
what in I before I the when...

May I whenever flying there
for I again in Chinese, each
in we. I amidst in here's
maybe one there the now.
Study these 6 the 10 Chinese
a changed E Higher mistakes
secrets spiritual fifth.

Illuminated Flying Packets

Speaking of railway signs
of worldwide
Lonely planets...
A small boy picks up Mexico...
We are all waiting
for a name to be called
and I sit here...

The drama this: I thought I knew something.

a Faint language, alien to what is known...
The lines run my palm,
a red hand... endtrails.
This loud lonely planet
Hides...
A circular ring...
A hole...
An eye...
A Zero...
A nothing...
An infinite line...
A continuity...
Curiosity...
I don't understand these things
and it feels as though it's on the
very tip of my childish tongue.

A castle on the Rhine
and somewhere Germany calls...

This here is dream language...
the one that I know and get lost in
like quicksand and dry fog
which has clarity to the taste...
Of accepting things I can't explain...

Loudness causes communication problems...
crisp sound right now...
crisp sound right now..
and then you crawl out of my skin
and awaken fibers which stand
On the edge of enlightening rods...
Supporting the structure of my dead weight
upon a seat in a big box
and I'm back here again...

What lightening electric shoots
out my thumb
my palm
this window
and song...

Sleeping on a Ham Hock

- All of existence in my feet and the tip of my finger...

People unknowingly spit poetry at me all the time.
What about us who ache for poetry in our bones...
We need to be fed.

What about us who hear jazz in every sound...
What about us who hear God...
Poetry abound...
We need to be fed.

What about us who dance for the sake of dance
for the sake of poetry for the sake of necessity...
Because we cannot help but dance...
We need to be fed.

What about this cry for celebration...
Cry for celebration of gifts
we cannot help but use...
We need to share...
We cannot hide it...
We need to be fed.

To all lovers in hiding...
We need to be fed.

Don't hide the food you've been growing in your soul...
We are hungry here.

Be aware of the time for harvest...
The time is near...
Near to breath...
Closer than a heartbeat.
The time is here...
The time is you.

This is what I'm given stomach for...

Blue Whales Beneath an Island

I wrote in the sand tonight
and swam with the breath of the ocean
falling from my throat
sent off a paper wish to see
my shoes swallowed
by a mouthful
and found them safe and sound
I wrote in the sand tonight
cursive prayers
to the touch
sealed in grains
sound to the touch
of my finger...
and by the end
I said Thank you
lying on a dry dolphin
while two heads pass
laughing about a story
of a billionaire who
fell off a cliff riding his segway
and by the end
I leave laughing
how I follow the big blue whales...

Forest of Legs

Forest of legs
Like the inside circle of hung rags
Sweet sucker
Don't u dare roll over my toes
They're breakable
Scratch tape of caution
Fenced protection
For natural delicacies
They're breakable
As are our legs...

These real stems held by
manufactured sticks
Made of its own...

Leashed puppies know the forest legs
Strapped feet bound to nothing grounded...

A broken arm cast at 90 degrees
And calves fatter than fits the face...

Beef jerky... The orange color...

Saptak

Floating half crossed stairs before me
An elderly presence to the right of my shoulder
I eat to my left munching on sickness
Head turned away towards the heavens in my ear.

A fishbone curved to a point
slipped out of its skin
for a shocking dip into the sun
swelling through all the seemingly solid stares.

A faint lift of a pinky fingernail
just skimmed of cream
whipped of fingerprints
embedded in a child's story.

Inside the cage of ribs
bbqd and spicy
Beige and brick columns
Straight spinal support
Shooting to the door
where the music makers stare.

I don't understand your language
but I know my heart's vibrations to truth
predict your beat by the swelling
of a secret...
and this reaches all.

Hat of Pins (continued)

On the ground
she spins and spins
On her crown
this hat of pins...

She spins and spins...
and spins...
and spins..

With eyes half open
or half closed
A strange sensation
in her toes!!!

As she looks down
to her wild delight
What does she see?

HER TOES IN FLIGHT!!!!

SHE'S SPUN OFF GROUND!!

Hat of Pins

Old maid and her pins...
Old maid and her pins...
Day after day...
She wakes admiring her hat of pins...
She gawks and awes...
Her hat of pins...
Her feet so soar...
She walks no more...
She wants so dearly to wear this hat of pins....
And places it like a crown upon her head... So soar...
And bald of hair...

The sun she fears, this hat she loves...

There is no wind, there is no rain...

This hat of pins,
She loves so much...

On her crown
This hat of pins...

On the ground
She spins and spins...

"oh my head!
What shall I do!
The pain I feel
So through and through!"

"what cursed god,
Hates me so,
That I should get
This horrid blow?!"

"why, why, Why! Why meeeee!"

On the ground,
She spins and spins...
On her crown,
This hat of pins...

Why she will not move the hat,
I do not know
That's where she's at.

To be continued...

Rhythm Partridge

Sleepy eyes
Sleepy eyes
10 lb. cookies
Hallf open lids

A Rhythm Partridge
flew on my head last night
and made a nest.

This is what it collected:
Garnet & moonstone,
Rubber band band,
2 cookies with salty caramel,
helicopter belly,
2 babies made of grass,
2 babies made of wood,
a young yard of swiss chard,
2 cups of seaweed,
hope,
happiness,
love,

and a wish.

Cooking Up a Sculpture 1

Imagine this...
Your prayers clothe my body
And make me yours
My movement your movement
Your touch, my clothing
Cold light.
Bathe me with your paper prayers
Soak me in your wishes
Slow walk sagging wishes
Shedding wet paper skin placed upon me
To form another...
Blanket.

A body on it's own
Drained of wet paper water
Dripping sound
Bounced off empty
Baking sheets
Dropping sound
From body to body
Sound body.

In Bed with Faith

Here it is.

I’m searching.

Look here.

Two moon above a valley.

We cross the middle.

Harness that eye.

Do not err.

Two doors mirrored in the middle.

A torch for the sway of myth… a dark starry cry.

We told them.

Jewels line up… lit and fired like a sharp tasted apple.

A spinning reel of metal

holding spoken drumrolls,

Training wheels.

A child’s communication

with the unseen .

Open lines.

Thin strings

Stuck to any body

suckling a handicap.

We wear this workshop of time

Folds, past lines

To an iron town

with fine water…

Where the cost

Of bridge crossing

Will tan.

Baldessari Bowl

Frou frou frilliness

Garish gonorea garters

A leg of lamb

Stewed in a pot

Slow cooking barons

Awaiting tight cheeks

Exploded in fancy

Nylon icebergs

Tipping their way

Through Donovan munchies

Wishing a way to hell

Through no fault of your own.

Wait till this rides up the line

A crinkle up a leg and elbow

Knees under the table

Needs bushing around

Hunted socks slithering

their way around fashion.

Wait till this lights up

a carried fancy for let down

Wheels waiting for someone to drive

Wheel whirring  to yield

Nowhere in circles

and says I did it cuz of you

and I'm not a wheel like you

and I'm not you...

you wheel!

Figuring a broken wheel

With a broken wheel…

Crooked apes.

We all come from the factory

and wish to be driven...

The spoke tied in tongues

That have been buried

Beneath my desire to drive

What I cannot…

And the stiffness lies limp

Like a spaghetti noodle

Down my throat

Decomposed crickets.

We rally round the stiffness

And say we don’t see…

Nothing escapes the

Wonderment in your eyes

Blared through bushes

Stiff as a dog

Spayed and nude.

A Meditation for Tea Ceremony

Braille.
Read black
Broken cups
The Widow's hour
Glass chipped
handles...
with care.

Written like braille.
Rough hands
Read with taste
Red faced...
this song of cracking.

A Plan for Tea Ceremony:

Drunken teacups.

Diving into mouths.

Pink tunnels of love.

Dripping with hunger.

For discussion of old tea bags

And dirty water.

Saucers.

White saucers.

A cup handle turning.

Rotating bottoms.

Handled in circles.

Into a clock.

Stop-and-go dance.

Handled cups.

Tip-rocking hands.

 

Belly of Moths

Terror.
Belly of moths
Bloom to fireflies
Sparks to heat...

Butterfly burnt toast...
Scraping burnt flies
On toasted hearts..

Foot bath
Floating moths-foam
Swept in corner...

Bare budding moths
Make nets of my disguise
My protection, my hiding...
My delusion.

Moths in my belly bloom to fireflies.
Illuminate my insides
I've never seen.
My face.
I've never seen.

Illuminate me.
Illuminate me.
Illuminate me.
Illuminate me to
No owner.