Dew Pressed Evening Light

From the dew pressed evening light
there by the biding brightly might
of my somber receding life;
as others might lesser me could not
by depressed inner sigh
was and is my stormy life
depression within the fold.
From the earliest of my days
there within me sadness lay
And all the joy of my heart
by the same tone could not fight
for self unless i be torn;
my compassion extended long
beyond the reach of my needing
own — and now as time has stretched
it’s thinning arms i find myself
a stowaway upon the desolate spot
cast aside in stormy water
still my love and beating heart
sails across the vast dark void
to comfort afflicted tormented
souls- of blue and silver sparks
by striking words and thunder talk
the angel my guardian holds my
hand (now that Heaven hears
my tears) Of a day more near
than far when shall i too find
the love as my own to comfort me.

:: 08-03-2018 ::


LYCANTHROPIC ME


THESE LAST DAYS

THE world is on fire and Pisces has died.
“Pray for me” an old man pleads; his teeth are
missing and his dog is foaming at the mouth.

These are the dying days and no one to rescue
the world from thie cosmic ruin of a godless
curse.

I say hold me tight until i feel your dreams
and comfort your soul, my love.

As with all things, this too shall pass into the night
like the embers from our ruined cities.

Tomorrow may be the last, or a new day, the new
dream where all things are made new.

Unitl then, let us hold each other while the nightmare
savages the life from everything we once cherished.

And remember, I will always love you.

:: 08-02-2018 ::


PURSE OF QUESTIONS – IV

AND if we dream.
Quietly as though  the babbling brook
demands so.

AND there by the trees
a hobble-cobble moon goes telling
sweet thoughts.

WITH pine in air
and stiff nipples / expectations like dreams
touching goals.

There are no impossibilities
just fears and blocked roads
by brain we the insane
mostly never overcome!

:: 09-30-2017 ::


PURSE OF QUESTIONS – III

A very busy mind full of broken
shaped happy forgottens
two eyes to see A third
to know

This hand and that tongue
this foot and that lovely
word:

CYNOSURE

IT HAS those many points and
like matrix math it flips/
flops over all other points/
like my thinkingMAYBE
might be a bruise upon
deceptive causes

And those goddamn questions!
poking a calm bed of ants
prickly scalp scratching
ideas LIKE those we all
tuck inside our lower basements
until the snow comes

My fire burns very brightly
to incinerate the weakest won!
:: 09- 30-2017 ::


PURSE OF QUESTIONS – II

touch, touch, touch
this and that.

kiss, kiss, kiss
our landscape of love.

breath, breath, breath,
the brilliant light of you.

As you are swimming within
my eyes and I am too.

A secret rumor we only know:
We think we love each other.

:: 09-30-2017 ::


SERENADING PINK BUTTERFLY

PINK serenading colorish puffBLEW!
Fragile like my heart is on
this-IS most beautiful grouse moor
like evening that i must endure!

Endure i must a few caterpillars
to dance with you my pink propelled
flower-like butterfly!

Yes Robert! Yes! Butterflies are
self propelled flowers!”

To flutter someone MYHEART as you
flitter-do //that the many-who
never so much as do — to take
the time to be a butterfly too!

LIfe as a setting board has pinned
the many-most as chrysalis
— frozen like meaningless
many who never WHONEVER’ish
their way to oblivious ends.

:: 07-27-2018 ::


Strawberry Letter #23

Poetry


ORGANIC BRAIN

Poetry


BLUE MORPHO

Blue Morpho Poem