Category Archives: Uncategorized

THE FOREVER TRIBE

THE forest is only a shade; once the shadows shed and were-beasts lost are sad; then the leaves are torn off their trees to see the true worth.

No matter where the deer may roam, she looks for a tree and i hold her so sweetly.
I am the tree she depends on. The tree in her heart. I am always there. You are my Queen, i am your river!

The pale blue chalky water stared at the bottom with her shiny black shoes the color of her cheeks. Her shiny white bag that was not much bigger than her body with all her clothes folded neatly inside. Her pretty flowing dress and sweet smile and the pink, frothy lips.

“Dalal, Dalal, do you ever run out of things to do? Like books to read or stories to read to your children?”

She looked at her friend Elie and realized that this man who has been her only friend in three years had always been a good listener. They had arrived at the secluded spot to start their day with a little chatter and conversation.

“You can tell me your stories anytime, Dalal,” Elie said, reading the expression on her face.
She thought he looked pleased, the way he grinned from one corner of his mouth. “I don’t have much to do these days.

I always wanted to learn how to write. So I’ll start today.”

He had already unfolded his long legs from under the wide tree roots, and was looking up to the brilliant blue sky.

“We just arrived in The Forever Land, and the first thing I did was look for the post office, to send my wife and children pictures of the sea. She used to spend hours studying the pictures she had gotten off the internet. And here I am without a good job or money, with no travel opportunities.”

She asked him to tell her about the culture here. “The Forever People are a very friendly and trusting people. And they have this song they sing, very sad. It means, never love anyone but your family. And you never think you’ll find the one you’re meant to love until you get so old that you forget to fall in love. And then the special day comes, and you love again and fall asleep with a smile on your face.”

:: 03.29.2022 ::


FLUTE-THROATED BIRD

I heard a voice say  tenderly by the brook (a flute-throated bird) singing:

‘you have no choice’ and the shore ebbed away singing  ‘i carry you through the river of life’ and worn rock by waters we never knew.

ooh, so it goes! ah, life like blood should we ever know and babbled brooks a lullaby for life and she so elegantly devoured by nature said, ‘i’m One with you if Nature knows.’

And sometimes life is an egg laid and never loved and it makes me wonder… when she breathes does she see the sun  between her breasts and it makes me wonder ooh, so it goes.  

Ah, life like blood should we ever know wandering by babbled brooks of raging love. I have lived many lives to reach the one true love.  But always failed. 


PLATH IN THE OVEN

WASH the moon —-> bring some soap
between dirty words might have been born
unlike fetus’ now dead
How about Boris Karloff:
makeup for monster actor acting
so funny i died crying life
How fruit flies like bananas
weeping finding out how
my grandfather clock is
so full of bugs – buzz me out
she has many roses inside
the sad mausoleum of vagina
i ate a candy bar called
coochy cooh and had a beer
oh hell holding a mug so cold
she got chills holding it
a freezer!
a hug a smile
a smug denial
a bit pale
a Plath in the oven
can we ever recover?
over drive like a smile.

:: 03.24.2022 ::


LOVE HOW TEARS FLOW

LOVE how tears flow of last nights
flowers swaying upon late sun’s light
captured words brilliant hearts
only upon time says what days last
words dying buried inside souls
of Gold.

Love how fear moves all our lifes
soil nuturing us upon morning skies
capturing feelings of our world love
above and below is our blessings
oh give us strength
love how tears flow
how life and death
are a margin of feelings

Oh, dear. How tears
are made of pain and pleasure
how tears are what we know
when we seek truth in life.

The pure hearts shall not sleep.

:: 03.22.22 ::


TEARS IN THE RAIN

The tone the rubber lips the very place to know truth is death.
The ancient paintings the broken the unjust the stand of justice
whose blood is over the whole of the World.

The poem. The Freedom.

See the world at the corner with satiated eyes, the plastic agony of
people as cold fish of materialism to hear alone in silence what
happens with people.

The false plans for a white picket fence or a farm.

Now the strange beauty of love, a wildness of eyes.

Now loneliness in silent woods. The car hides behind cows.
The missing girl — the lost princess with tears in the rain.

That night we are alone with coldness and wet. A silent god
and screams within an ear.

Looking through the glass Through the glass
Peering into the glass Not going to be today Not going to be
the women who are the hero.

The sight of old resistance.
Vultures are living souls.
A car yes, blue cloud.
A flying trail runaways into evening.
A faceless youth a guileless submissive.
I think of Degas how he moved.
The ticklish and playful strokes of the needle.
The giant fists of past and present.
The whispered pleas I am asleep am I
More lively the supple breeze.
Shrill night the grieving of loveless minds.
Exhausted groups crashing into each other.
Blood-thirsty men from reality strangling hallucinating
Mother heaving out her new babies.

While Liquor stains the gap conjuring the sun, his defeat beside the shadowed bed.
And as I enter under that roof it is with tender kisses of the flesh.

I think of the scrapers of little hearts who spit at my shame.
What and how the night has passed.

The old man looked long over the blood over the whole Of the world.

The poem and the freedom to see the world at the corner With satiated eyes.
The plastic agony of a person.
Cold fish of materialism.
To hear alone and in silence what happens with people.

The false plans for a farm now the strange beauty of love.
The wildness of the eyes. Now the loneliness in the silent woods.
The car hides behind the cows.

Tonight.

:: 03.20.2022 ::


WEARING YOUR FACE

Someone said I wore your face only you could still like that when i closed my eyes  /the last song died and the yearning remains.\

Saying i love you much as the storm comes what color of your eyes cling to your face. i took us to the sea so you could look at me while within arms like a group of living and dead old ladies who wish to dance with me.

How he made a grave  within the street upon the road to nowhere this body, this corpse a mirror of my beauty of loveliness in the world — how you look inside the mirror more beautiful than ever.

Inside this golden unwashed grave the very teeth inside your mouth could not know how to lie.  Hover inside galley nights of sliding seasons of an immense yawn grabbing aspirating  horror.

Then we walked across the ‘again’ and every little pebble stumbled, every little thought.  Every little secret upon your lips and a drop of tears living life as there’s a God watching how we fumble along the way.

Like a hole.
Inside hell.

:: 03.20.2022 ::


NOTHING SURVIVED

NOTHING survived.

 Yet i live.

Or is it that everyone
survived but i died?

Walking the chalk line
of homicide-art upon
a wet empty alley
in NYC I wanted to smoke.

No funnel of light.
No friends or family
members greeted me.

Just blood, brains,
and fear.

My face.  It left me.
Yet my hands were in
my pockets.  

If this be death then
death was kind.

Across the way, a diner.
I saw people-things
through the windows.

“gimme a cup of coffee.”
You look sore for the eyes
said the server.

One of her arms was missing.

The girl next to me had
something terribly wrong
with her back. That one eye
stared beyond me; made me
turn around to see what she
must have been looking at.

“Make that a scotch instead”
I croaked.

Nothing survived.  Yet I live.

:: 03.18.2022 ::


O U R O B O R O S

a strung-out song

a pit-angel trap

green as money

without feeling

sang the fat

evil thought

ramming inside

the white cave

of my dilapidated

skull.

how can any artist

sell out for fame

is beyond me.

i know i must be

mentally unwell

but need for money

was never the cause

for my derangement.

I blame my dreams.

My dreams are

OUROBOROS.

a divine pain. Inside

my throat.  Beneath

my head inside my

stomach. 

:: 03.18.2022 ::


T H E B U G D R E A M

deeplying falling kissing wishing
hoping loving hugging believing
how a butterfly was a bug
inside a bag of tender skin

like me

lasting, blasting, feeling, crying
destroying, allowing oneself

to die____like you like me

We are all inside a room called life
dying climbing tearing the walls
wishing we could escape

no such thing

Our creatures say there’s more outside
but no one has seen the after-life

so like a bug inside a bag of tender skin
we dream we can become the butterfly
we love:

to fly away.

:: 03.18.2022 ::


HOW I LOVE YOU

MEMORIES MELT into nights
as flowing rivers of hearts
where we met

Bees buzz singing
‘she loves you’
and flowers wilt
as dry tongues

Some leave others arrive,
to a country of hearts
breaking states  —
 how nature adores all

Be mine be wondrous as skies
above as below such feelings
how you never loved me i should
hate you but never could

 how nature adores you

Memories melt into nights
flowing knowing some things
could never come true so i
sing how beez buzz singing

‘how i love you’
within strings big as drawing
pins writing songs where voices
stick inside the intractable mind.

::  03.18.2022 ::