Tag Archives: #hidden

ECHOS INSIDE THE TRUNK OF A TREE

What, sir, what?
He looked at my face.

“I think your name is Viola!”
He exclaimed, waving his hand.

He acted quite surprised,
when the Queen’s Viola herself
crushed into him, almost, as she said,

“My dear man, it is here, quite naturally,
that we keep our mysteries. And to keep mysteries
and to give secrets…I did you the whole
world over—in no time while you slept,
when, instead, I lay down beside you
to keep you company, quieter than the others.

You slept, and when you awoke, again I went to sleep.
When you awoke again, I again visited your bedside.
And then it was too much: my legs were too tired,
my form too pliant, my reveries too pregnant
with yearning, too exhausted by dreams to make
much of these close, fumbling tokens:
my sacred braid.

After that, you were conscious:
I helped you dress, and then—
you carried me off to the balcony,
and here we are, tonight,
where I took my first great pleasure:
I acted, rather than spoke;
I play, rather than set to music.”

THEN, magically, heavenly, Viola is able to wield her
musical instruments to render the fallen body of
a trumpe, a siren of ancient seas. As though, the title
of manuscript like the benediction, ‘Ubi Stancendo’
cannot be bought with gold, like a Talmudic scholar
who has escape from Heaven to Hell.

That was the first date.

: 10:35 PM 4/7/202210:35 ::


RAIN AND LOVE BEFORE WE SPOKE WORDS

RAIN AND LOVE BEFORE WE SPOKE WORDS — so, uh:
Bleed blue ad my african brown eyes
–> listen up brothers and sisters
the black and brown man and women (the khoisan)
are not
prisoners
( i love ’em
wak’a white people-ka )
we native American people side with
those who lost as us //and we still
dance and have our culture \\\
it does hurt for white people
to say they understand.
WE ARE THE PEOPLE of color
who wish all PEOPLE TO BE ALIVE
AND LOVE. I reach = take this bread
and save Nations of all this world.
Save me == you save you. Save us
stranger if you please. Native me.
Save us. Save us if you can stanger.
If you please….

:: 09.14.2021 ::


MY ‘LOST’

where, my ‘lost’
should
choose to hide?
when my ‘lost’
gained
the hand I tried
so tried to hold
it left (or died?)
where my ‘lost’
shall I run?
the memories
of love
or the new ones
of pain and shadow
if I run (and I should)
toward the sun
what fires but that
to cleanse my soul!

:: 10-05-2015 ::


DEEP WITHIN

THAT which dwells
so deep within
not placed there
by God or birth
but through the pain
still unresolved

:: 01-25-2014 ::


THE MASK

THE mask you see
gently just for thee
where once tender
fingers touched
and pale face
once adorn…
It has no eyes
save the ones
— of your soul
And if some tears
— it could shed
oceans it would fill
Such a love it has
for your porcelain skin

::01-21-2014::


I AM IMBECILE

THE X in me
does not feel
so much so
that I never ask Y
Sensing confusion
the hearts of weak
clearly cannot C
Murmurs of dimness
so often that all I ask
is to B left a-loon

::01-18-2014::