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AWAKE THE SLEEPER

THERE is no shock like that of waking up
within one’s possessed skin to fully realize
we are only visitors and not from the-here
I talk not of an academic approach
which requires only a mind-thought
but the unequivocal knowing and feeling
that we have possessed the animal-human
parading as less than what we are
and some succumb to their skin-suits
and have shed their light-hearts
and run amok in primal urge and
have the doer-evil deeds of darkness

Truly there is duality
in our current experience
— and a very fine line
between madness and sanity

[There is more…
that can be said…]


WHEN FEAR BROUGHT ME ROSES

I CUDDLED my emotions
when fear brought  me roses
and knew that such ways
— as me
can play an instrument
— psychosis

Simpler to just praise it all
the good and bad
— and sad and fears
an occasional bottle
— of broken tears
then to wrap it up
and embrace the birth of death
++()++


THE SCHOOL OF FOOLS

THERE in an instant
once labeled
becomes a thing
other than itself
before — a clean slate
maybe more
now caricature
of ‘this’ and ‘how’

The linears need
their lines and rules
to fit preconceived notion
into their folds
but ‘things’ are not
and rules do beg
to smother and kill
the ‘self’ — many holes
::::


I CAN’T SAY

I can’t say
what other people
think of poetry…
But I know that
it speaks to me
when it’s truth
    –//–


THE ‘BUY-IN’

IT is…a remarkable thing
that which is organic
has a thought but is just flesh
and to feel! — what sorcery!
The ‘buy-in’ for this world
that others from beyond
wish to visit this rock of stuff
is that meat-talks…feels…
and has the spark of divinity!

::-::


IMPERIAL GARDEN OF ABSTRACT THOUGHT

[AS a wish just to me
I choose to speak —
in abstract poem
so here I say
to you the brave…]

MOSTLY shiver in my veins
beneath coiled rivers
in steel-stained vanes
how could she ever know
broken records shattered
polyvinyl grooves within my soul
beat the skip in troves of love
catch the dove within it’s peace
twist the neck of lover’s pain
and whisper neatly blood-red stains

[My apologies if I gave confused
— in return I have to go
that Imperial garden
of abstract thought
so I leave — shattered soul]

:():


LIGHT’S WARDROBE

AH!, light’s formal wear
stars, pulsars, nebulae
comets, gamma-ray – stay away!
just the trimmings might I say
but when the light must entertain
out of the cosmic closet
— it pulls away
the skin of human into a suit
gender — what to pick!
consider the role that you wish:
male skin so brute and rough
— to the touch!
Female-elegance to impress…
Impress I say!  All the way!

:::::


SINGING SWAN SONG

YES there is a light
that bright light within
so warmly burning
eternally so warming

Yearning…

And so you catch a star
gently swinging from afar
and fall upon your head
— softly-bump your heart

And all your pennies falling
across a peppered-ground
tears so burning
— but not a sound

Dry-heaving sobs inside beating
fearful once it’s started…
and uncontrolled reeling
across the ground scattered feelings

But when it’s over – yes it shall
that inner strength releases
sunbeams of perpetual soul-light
and then shall you know —
the immortal soul you are…

unbreakable…
indisputably strong
unshakeable…
singing swan song      

       ::)(::


CONVOLUTION

I EXPANDED this line between space and time
(and) time and space between lines EXPANDED I
So funny how life circles into balls of light
(and) light balls into circles — life, funny-So!
Madness I see in such visionary sight
(and) sight, visionary! Such “in-see” I — Madness
There, I take my leave as the white coats are coming
(and) coming are coats — white || leave! Take I — There!
0/
 O


GO ASK ELECTRIC-SIRI

THERE’S one app that makes you happy
and one that makes
you wish for more
— and some that make you
want to give it up
and in a carapace you scream for more
so you go and ask Miss Siri
when she’s ten feet tall…

Poor Siri…
when you wish for more
a request befuddles her so!

Some may ask, ‘who’s on first?’
she will say, ‘ correct’
other’s say, ‘Sing me a song’
‘I could while away the hours’
Siri you could be my mushroom —
if I walked the grassy knoll
and light my rocket if I could walk
the dusty surface of a brightly-Luna

‘And my head I’d be scratching…”
So needing my auto-correcting sword!
‘While my thoughts were busy hatching…’
And I’d go chasing rabbits
— for my sorrowful poor electric-Siri!

‘if I only had a…’
You wait a minute — say no more!

::-::