Monthly Archives: April 2023

BeINg SmAlL

being   S M A L L    is  this reality
corporations eating souls, it’s:

I know you and you know me,

Unlike hitler or mussolini
the world has social media

 and evil is eating you and me
 dead is TV and we sip coke
 next to the deceased civilizations
 of a fossilized world

I would have been anything for you
but silos of thinking kills freedom
it’s easier to be dead than alive

and for you:  one and one is three
and men are woman and woman are nothing
they exploit females to kill the family

Oh, how wake is a dead eye in the sky
and our dead leaders roll in graves

So I know your anger — and all you wanted
to be — make it now:  a butterfly
with a ton punch, a God who Cares
and Loves you________be the smiling face
against the evil of exploitation and
love is the truth that expands spacetime
and follow me so you can be free.

:: 04.30.2023 ::


Parfüm der Liebe (Love’s Perfume)

My dearest’s eyes are nothing like the sun,
Her lips cannot match life’s red, not one;

If snow is white, her breasts are dun to sight,
Her hair like fire, red as stars delight.

I’ve seen roses, in colors bright and bold,
But none in her cheeks do I behold;

And in some scents there’s greater delight
than in the breath that from my love takes flight.

I love to hear her speak, though music’s strains

Which holds greater enchantment, ’tis truth I maintain;
I’ve ne’er seen a goddess, but my love walks the earth,
And when she treads, it’s with mortal girth.

Yet, by heaven, I deem my love so rare,
As any that false comparisons ensnare.

:: 04.30.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

The poem “Parfüm der Liebe (Love’s Perfume)” is a modern adaptation of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130, with some variations in wording and imagery. The speaker describes his lover in unconventional terms, comparing her to elements that are not traditionally associated with beauty. The contrast between the natural and the idealized forms of beauty is a central theme of the poem.

The first quatrain compares the lover’s eyes and lips to the sun and coral, respectively, and finds them lacking. The second quatrain continues the unconventional imagery, comparing her breasts to dun-colored snow and her hair to black wires. In the third quatrain, the speaker admits to having seen more beautiful roses than those found in his lover’s cheeks, and suggests that some scents are more delightful than the breath of his beloved.

In the final couplet, however, the speaker asserts that his love is rare and precious, even if it does not conform to conventional beauty standards. The poem suggests that true love transcends appearances and external attributes, and that it is the inner qualities of a person that truly matter.

Overall, “Parfüm der Liebe (Love’s Perfume)” is a thought-provoking adaptation of a classic sonnet that challenges traditional notions of beauty and love, and emphasizes the importance of seeing beyond appearances.


What Love Opposed by Love?

WHAT more? If by love then by heart.

If by beauty then by lust.

One by Soul as the other by action while perjured,

the Soul, that is called blame and extreme,

is but a soundless song bird and sinking sun.

Both lost by Light requesting new days.

:: 04.30.2023 ::


River Creatures Speak

CLOSING these eyes
reaching outside all reality
you come inside inevitably
surreal being one
dancing twinkle little toes
being mice is little woe
i lost the bread crumbs of a path
inside this deep green forest
little feet wet upon green grass
stopping i look: out there, under stars,
i saw myself focus on the soul i am
reading, drawing, singing, i found a river
of rivulets and eddies swirling around me
the frog croaked, “important to be authentic!”
The tadpole, “Express your emotions with hesitation!”
The skies, “Those wo care about you won’t be bothered
by what you say, and those who are bothered
do not matter.”

:: 04.30.2023 ::


I Won’t Because I Quit

I ran away inside  my skin then
i felt my teenage heart boil
Self-appointed judge and jury
caught me alone

Oh self appointed
Oh self lover it’s a whore

I grabbed my shoes and said to
no one “good bye”  — i just wanna
say no oh no more ~!~ i served
the servants and ate the shit they
spewed — oh boy!  

Everything is senseless.
God how I love pareidolia

I had a good day alone along the river
watched the water speaking to me
and how the rocks knocked the water
making swirls like thoughts in my mind.

I saw how my embryo was born scentless
like babies smiling and many dying
by mothers who have other things to do.

Fathers zero in lands like California
and western costal dead lands ~~
forgotten what human is like love.

A lie like a mushroom within the freak
mind of life — forget me forget you
we made it out of the womb!  yea!  
yea!  !yea.   Glad to meet you too!

She drips blood between her tights
asking for a date tonight.

:: 04.27.2023 ::


Surreal

My soul aches with sorrow and despair,
No fame to claim, just blemishes to bear,
I eat meat, and work for a corporation,
Living a dream that’s yet to come to fruition.

I try to be happy, but it’s all a facade,
My mind’s a mess, like a winter blizzard,
Like dogs racing in the snow so white,
I flee from the world into the night.

It all feels fake, like a tooth pulled out,
My tongue exploring the gap, with doubt,
I feel so lonely, my heart unglued,
Wishing to be with you, in the clouds we viewed.

In the skies, where we could kiss,
And make up for all that we missed,
I’m not like them, just a plain old soul,
Pretending to be human, to fit the role.

I long to be in nature’s embrace,
Let its beauty, restore me to grace,
The hills and valleys, renew my spirit,
And wash away my sorrows, I hope to inherit.

May the sun’s rays and the gentle breeze,
Bring back my smile, and put my mind at ease,
Oh, how I yearn to be one with nature,
And find my true self in its gentle nurture.

In its embrace, I’ll find my place,
And leave behind the human race.

:: 04.27.2023 ::


Clocks In Spring Time

Clocks are omnipresent, constantly ticking, urging us to stay on schedule. Spring, however, is a different story – it refuses to be bound by the limitations of time. The hands of Spring move slowly and steadily, devoid of the mechanical jolts that govern our lives.

Spring is not a machine with gears, weights or springs ticking away inside it. It is a delicate, slender and unencumbered thing that evades the heaviness of our time-obsessed world.

When Spring arrives, we can kiss our beloveds without the tyrannical hold of clocks seeking to govern our every move. In Spring, time loses its grip, and love can bloom freely, without the ticking of the clock interrupting our tender embraces.

:: 04.27.2023 ::


The Balloon Man

Amidst the season of mud,
The small, limping balloon man
Whistles a tune so soft and slight,
And Eddie and Bill, they come running.
Marbles and pirate ships left behind
For it is spring, and the world is full of wonder.

Puddles here and there,
The strange old balloon man
Whistles his song so light and free.
Betty and Isbel, they come dancing
From hopscotch and jump rope,
For it is spring,
And the world is full of life.

The goat-footed balloon man,
He whistles still,
His song so faint and sweet.
And we, like Eddie and Bill,
Like Betty and Isbel,
We run and dance in the spring,
For the world is full of joy.

:: 04.27.2023 ::


MAGNIFICENCE OF BRILLIANCE

Within fiery brilliance, love burns true,
Casting all shadows away into oblivion,
The only One, the only True,
Magnificence of trade, essence of fusion.

Finesse of soul and heart,
Is what Creativity imparts,
A dance of colors, a symphony of sound,
In its embrace, our true selves are found.

As passion ignites and dreams take flight,
In the tapestry of life, we weave our light,
The celestial canvas, painted anew,
With every stroke, a love that’s true.

In the depths of darkness, love’s beacon shines,
Guiding us home, through space and time,
And as we journey, hand in hand,
Within fiery brilliance, forever we’ll stand.

:: 04.27.2023 ::


Flesh and Tree Barks

As her garments nearly slipped away,
A curious tree outside
Tapped a branch on her windowpane
To glimpse what was inside.

On the hill sat a lecher,
Half-dressed in his easy chair,
Clutching his limbs as they quivered,
As gentle as they could bear.

Meanwhile, a faint beam of light
Trapped in the tree outside
Flitted from his lips
To her breast, like a fly on a flower.

She giggled with a soft, abrupt sound
That shattered into glittering shards,
As her feet slipped under her chemise
And she pleaded, “Please, stop it, Bard!”

Yet I laughed at her cries and moans,
Knowing she truly savored it,
And her eyes quivered beneath my lips,
Closing softly with each little bit.

As her head fell back, she exclaimed,
“Really, this is too much!”
But I silenced her with a kiss,
And she chuckled, wanting more such.

Her clothes were nearly all off,
While outside, the inquisitive tree
Rattled its branches against the pane
To glimpse the secrets it could see.

:: 04.26.2023 ::