Monthly Archives: October 2018

I COULD YOU CAN

i could be your butterfly
with a kiss
i could be your never-die
and you’d miss
i could say hello my dear
and you’d smile
i could be all or nothing
but i’d miss

all of me
all of you
all of me

You can keep the diamond rock
and the bill
you can sing a song of love
so i’ll heal
you can kick me to the curb
with the trash
you can call me from the dead
with my head in hands

i could you can
i could you said
i could we did

:: 10-27-2018 ::


THE RA&&IT & THE HAT

WHETHER morticians wear
the makeup of cadavers
or madness is the friendliest
voice makes no difference
you are sick
to believe loud colors
have no mouth
and the trunks of people
grow deeply rooted roads
that have many toll booths
the rich pay for free things
and the poor steal dreams
those dead envy the living
and those alive
feel so dead.

:: 10-27-2018 ::


CLAM-SHELL MOUTH

I kissed your clam
shell’d mouth
you bit back life
We strolled on
down the hill
full of sun and thrill
You laughed
at my confession
and left me
ghost-shadow’d
It was all
a deception
like it matters now

so what happens
to us now
so what matters
isn’t how
it’s all decisions
within deceptions
is all that matters
now now now

::: 10-25-2018 ::


DEATH’S PASSAGES

No longer a thought
within my brain,
the mortician lay me
down to sleep

a scream i refrained
surfaced as white
within my eyes
that none had bought

my vitals he checked
and thumped my nose
as a creep
then:

a bath and massage
no dance but song
two strong hands
then set my face

arterial embalming
then drain/eject
it’s all the same
the cavity —
aspirate and concentrate

The humming thrumming
burning desire
escaped as soon as with
a pop I fled my skin
and faced the choice
to do it once again.

:: 10-23-2018 ::


TODAY IS THE DAY I DIED

TODAY is the day
I died after the clouds broke
their water and still-birthed
the evening.

I am standing outside
by the edge of a mysterious
forest and the wolves are
sniffing the air but cannot
find me.

I am a ghost. And my house
is the tomb I was born within
but no longer contains me.

There is an empty space
within my heart’s shape
that no artist can draw:
all words too broken
for any poet to express
my emotions.

I was birthed on the day
the beautiful angels were
sick and have now died
as God is sick and the world
a breath away from me.

::: 10-23-2018 ::


LIVING GHOST

EVERYTHING seems so real
the dancing trees
the talking clouds
and how you feel

When i’m alone i’m not here
everything’s gray
the world’s a memory
while you’re away

how does it feel
how does it feel
how does it feel

(to be)

a living ghost
within your skin
screaming in silence
while the world
fades away

when everything
seems so real.

:: 10-19-2018 ::


Listen

listen. Of hearts that sing —
wailing aside. Better if eyes
could taste the color love
And in flight with bee
a passionate kiss from thee!

:: 10-15-2018 ::


My heart Speaking

MY heart. Speaking words
have crippled all letters.
A great passion explored.
Destroying all rhyme
and meter.
Is how my teeth have
broken.
Now mumbling.
Babbling nonsense!

:: 10-15-2018 ::


A Moment In Creation

The miracle of Life stooped lower
A human sleeping awoke
The whole of existence
Breathing and laughing
In an incredible fashion
Kissed Spirit and Heart
Explosive expansion —
A universe born!

:: 10-15-2018 ::


The Cedar Box

As my roses are in bloom the cedar box is locked away
with safely kept dreams.
The Light hits the window’s pane shattering forever
into pieces illuminated thoughts; my trembling fingers
touching the floor’s veins — long sturdy planks braver
than my bones, my spine and all pain.
Did you know that when the proud Moon rises from the
descending heights of waning daylight my roses are still
within their magnificent bloom?
And my hands are without purchase for the South spins
and North is beyond my reach.
But my roses are in bloom and my dreams safely kept.

:: 10-15-2018 ::