A dead rose you say?
No such thing!
Perhaps the promise
died —
the rose remains
:: 05-16-2014 ::
Tag Archives: #life
THE MIRACLE
GIVE So,(a)letchion
so //um//thing sow
itching —
bee(,)see-believing
a-tone-ing
so-tongue[um]-annoying
jay-sush dying
a C r o S S bleeding
His hole -lay spread
-ing (burst-life) morning
the rock removed -|-
corner(stone) bloomed!
:: 06-13-2014 ::
T E X T P E R T — E X P E R T
Textpert expert telling us how it is
a jumbo word manifesto sexpert
I see how a pig could fly
all you have to do is kiss a bug
bullfrogs have all died, oh my!
but the chemical plants
swear on their dead souls
a fish could have two heads
Darwin on steroids drank a coke
and the bomb loves your mother
Tell me a bedtime story
without politics and I’ll die
you are the Textpert expert
thumbing all through the lies
for the world there’s a word
and all the circus clowns have died
:: 05-26-2014 ::
HOW TO DIE
I can’t tell you how to live
but I know what dying is like
and can say take each day
and hold it like your child.
kiss it, love it and never let go
:: 05-27-2014 ::
THE ANCHOR STONE
When you awaken
do you get up into
the sinking —
inside of you?
it’s three feet below the bed
where you rest your head
at the foot of —
an anchor-stone
I can only ask because I know
the weight of that stone
kept me three feet below —
the resting bed
until one day I arose
up into the sun
when I awaken
that’s where I go
:: 05-28-2014 ::
IF I WERE BORN
IF I were a bird and born
with no feathered wings
our skies would give me love
and the gentle rains
should cleanse my eyes
If I were born that beating heart
within my soul I’d find my wings
and my tiny-throat trilled songs
would lift my soul and there I’d fly!
:: 05-22-2014 ::
MY ANCHOR OF THORNS
Despair is an anchor
with thorns —
it drowns the ship
and sinks the soul
and the hull,
a skin that bleeds
A heart — the oar
that paddles ashore
Best to use
a blessed life vest
when a storm —
that despair comes
and wisely glue shut
that gapping hawse
:: 05-15-2014 ::
I SHOULD WISH TO BE
i should wish to be, gain
from conception through
little feet, baby breath too
a clean slate of possibilities
i should wish to be, again
the admiration of loved ones
if i should be — again
what i was before the now
i would take a different path
such a dream i give —
my solemn vow
:: 05-16-2014 ::
PARK BENCH BAKED SEAT
the grief, such a little pinch
a park bench baked seat
we too, bench and me
like the park, solemnly
where do birds fly
— my wonder, undercover
beneath the last refrain
of nature song fades…
surely not within me?
nor the park bench baked seat
which soulfully comforts me
such song (and birds) n’er die
but this grief surely will!
:: 05-16-2014 ::
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