Tag Archives: #meaning

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 ::


No Title

to all the poets who suffer: who wish the next word
is the last drop of eternal pain

i say
You are safe within this Pantheon
of pain____________and,
are the skies more blue?
Does a brook sing across her
banks and over soft rocks?
can you hear the robin and
her discourse for the day?
And during evening storms
Mother Nature’s greatest silence
is between lightning and thunder.

::02.10.2020::


/AS WITH NICOLAUS COPERNICUS\

My neck has stretched above the clouds
the Adamic Apple tickling stars —
and my Love is here and there upon
every footstep i have walked.
Life is not just Pain.
Nor just Love.
But fear and Joy
Morbidity and a shade of nudeness
IF the Soul is inclined to explore
God’s backyard. Cowards! Most of us!
To shade your shame within religion
or a sense of higher ground for weak
voices. Shame. Shame upon the lot!
The Sun is brilliant.
and still your mystery!

:: 04-03-2019 ::


THE PUZZLE OF THE BUFFALO

THIS dream.

I am walking through a tunnel between the streets.  Air as thick

as my misconceptions of life.  The gutters are gone but my fears

fulfill the deed.

A passing light of brilliant orbs dazzle me then I am walking

across a cache of weapons and I see my feet amongst others.

The wolves’ den.

“Who are you?”  One asks.

I am a dream walker.

“Are you crazy?” asks another.

No.  I am here for reasons unknown.

“Kill him.” says the one with shifty eyes.

Why would you wish this?

“He’s a pig.”

No.

“Bro, do you have buffalos running around within

your head?”

Yes.

“Let him go.”

I love you all and please learn from this:  if you

do all that is told then you are not living a brilliant

life as you can.

And the buffalos will trample you one soon day.

I wake up.

:: 09-17-2017 ::


FORMLESS SOMETHING

Immaterial – formless;
the imbued by Spirit
and body is more!
That patterns determine
rain, snail and flower
and more by zero
but most by Soul!
And innumerable
Infinities that come
and go!

:: 08-17-2017 ::


ROSA PARKS

BUGS yuck!         To wear a sweater
in summer some say
means rape!       Water fountain
germs upon my lips
when i was a boy    invited my friend
to the theater!     He took the door
labeled: colors and he had the best seat
up above in stadium air and I hate humans
wish their eyes were all inside their ass
and their nose inside   my heart: to smell
revenge! Rosa Parks!
And Blake is segregated    in the hereafter life
of post-regretful life
Private citizen against
false witness life says,
“tired of giving in!”
She comes back as fire and makes false sincerity
all liars: witness  ~~ the brave
puke fear in the face of weak life!

:: 07-01-2015 ::


STEPS

The step I took
forward met
my leaning shadow
to step upon one’s
head is meaning
thoughts shouting!
The step I took
backward sadly
upon the dead shadow
never said I love you!

:: 03-14-2015 ::


ANCIENT EYES

IF with ancient eyes
you could see
the grinding passage
of human-time
And the cycles
that dance upon
the hearts and minds
of all-in-kind
What say, for your
tender-sanity
— might plead
to be released
from the criminal act
of human folly
         ::::


I REFRAIN FROM THE THOUGHT

I REFRAIN from the thought
that death of love is for naught
that shores ebb away
from the tides of luna
All without meaning or thought

Let me dream of a reason
if I may have eons to think
that logic dictates feeling —
tears are salt and not honey
Is life bitter or death sweet?

— // —