Category Archives: #attic

MOVING TONGUE

There’s no crowd in the streets and no sun
In my own summer – Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!
(Shove) Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!

(The sun) So yellow a million years ago

God moved her lips and pulled from the woods
an ear and a mouth and a hip and sold it to the men
for a tale for eyes that must be A body for a suit of clothes

A head that must wear a hat

They brought the tail and shook it with their water and their jokes
“There’s a tail here!”\

The fiddler pounded his foot The fiddlesold (The sun) Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!
(Askew)
God moved her lips / And pulled from the woods An ear and a mouth and a hip
And sold it to the men \ A tale for eyes that must be sold
A bit of jealousy
And blame a bit that should be named
After a little plucking and grubbing
So, it’s the woman’s way
It’s in the dirt or else it’s dead
Sow the seed and keep your mandrake
Longer A body for a suit of clothes
I think we move moved crowds and
leve time-space alone.

:: 05 07 2021 ::

MOVING TONGUE

I think God is moving its tongue

There’s no crowd in the streets and no sun
In my own summer – Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!
(Shove) Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!

(The sun) So yellow a million years ago

God moved her lips and pulled from the woods
an ear and a mouth and a hip and sold it to the men
for a tale for eyes that must be A body for a suit of clothes

A head that must wear a hat

They brought the tail and shook it with their water and their jokes
“There’s a tail here!”\\

The fiddler pounded his foot The fiddlesold (The sun) Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!
(Askew)
God moved her lips / And pulled from the woods An ear and a mouth and a hip
And sold it to the men \ A tale for eyes that must be sold
A bit of jealousy
And blame a bit that should be named
After a little plucking and grubbing
So, it’s the woman’s way
It’s in the dirt or else it’s dead
Sow the seed and keep your mandrake
Longer A body for a suit of clothes
I think we move moved crowds and
leve time-space alone.

:: 05 07 2021 ::

I think God is moving its tongue

There’s no crowd in the streets and no sun
In my own summer – Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!
(Shove) Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!

(The sun) So yellow a million years ago

God moved her lips and pulled from the woods
an ear and a mouth and a hip and sold it to the men
for a tale for eyes that must be A body for a suit of clothes

A head that must wear a hat

They brought the tail and shook it with their water and their jokes
“There’s a tail here!”\\

The fiddler pounded his foot The fiddlesold (The sun) Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!
(Askew)
God moved her lips / And pulled from the woods An ear and a mouth and a hip
And sold it to the men \ A tale for eyes that must be sold
A bit of jealousy
And blame a bit that should be named
After a little plucking and grubbing
So, it’s the woman’s way
It’s in the dirt or else it’s dead
Sow the seed and keep your mandrake
Longer A body for a suit of clothes
I think we move moved crowds and
leve time-space alone.

:: 05 07 2021 ::
I think God is moving its tongue

There’s no crowd in the streets and no sun
In my own summer – Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!
(Shove) Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!

(The sun) So yellow a million years ago

God moved her lips and pulled from the woods
an ear and a mouth and a hip and sold it to the men
for a tale for eyes that must be A body for a suit of clothes

A head that must wear a hat

They brought the tail and shook it with their water and their jokes
“There’s a tail here!”\\

The fiddler pounded his foot The fiddlesold (The sun) Shove it! Shove it! Shove it!
(Askew)
God moved her lips / And pulled from the woods An ear and a mouth and a hip
And sold it to the men \ A tale for eyes that must be sold
A bit of jealousy
And blame a bit that should be named
After a little plucking and grubbing
So, it’s the woman’s way
It’s in the dirt or else it’s dead
Sow the seed and keep your mandrake
Longer A body for a suit of clothes
I think we move moved crowds and
leve time-space alone.

:: 05 07 2021 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – XXX

MY part a half of whole
a thought a slice of more
that my life lived and soared
my part your half our one
an emotion that wave of ocean
that my dreams becomes Life
and as one what more
than one and whole?

:: 04-03-2014 ::
rev 07192020


FLAT-DONUT FLYING DELICIOUS ENIGMA

LOATHING a cheap thought i sought
wider walls of discernment — i broke
my spinal-cracker back by the blow-back
{shoot, darn-it} dams are made by beavers
:looks like you give a damn
my thick binary-filter of Zero & one
: like , over mE___ hon-knee i
scraped my low-lyin’ heart for many
Human-sad years; i just want you so
; it maybe babe drives me a bit mad:
—///synth-comm :093492034 — disconnect |
interstellar comm link uncoupled: charges
apply during FTL (Faster-Than-Light) Travel
outside Federation parameters. [Remember:
we are dangerous to anything other than
humans — and how we still treat ourselves!]

:: 05.19.2020 ::


A DEEP STATE OF YOU

“i’m listening,” i said.
“Well?…”

The words said:

“TELL me how a star can fall
Show me how to avoid it all
Touch my fish bowl but never
Never push me over — WATER!
The nostalgic drink for life
LOVE! — an elixir that
causes changes i’m trying to
hold it all TOGETHER!
i’m puppetized by you
Inside a deep State of You
I’m pauperized within me
Holding on holding on to
you-owe-you just you –”

U N G L U E D___!

:: 03.22.2020 ::


TRYING TO PULL JESUS FROM HIS CROSS

i have walked within your
thunderstorms & broken nails
upon the wood of your maple
casket — makes me sad

called a dove the vulture of
all hearts (oh my)
hauled dirty stares within
the sack of my brain we all
refrain from bruised egos OH HEY
says the middle finger of my MOUTH
you can only lose
what you never had
and i broke nails
trying to pull Jesus
from his Cross//+\\

:: 03.11.2020 ::


THE JUKEBOX ATTIC

My smiles are all inside
a jukebox attic of your
forever never-forgiving
bone cave mind!
I have a chisel sharp-thought
bringing me freedom
and you wish your highness
could bring every man
to his knees.  I forgot my
parakeet who speaks
all the seedless words
of your tongue.
To wait for a simple sentence
conjures an ink-dipped heart.
I’m just a tattoo kiss
upon your heart.

:: 03-23-2015 ::