Tag Archives: #paper

LOVE, FEAR, LUST OR GREED

Love, fear, lust or greed?
A thousand diseases blowing in the wind;
the hungry voices of hatred eating each side!
i caused pain within my life, that i did,
deciding at birth to give care upon
the blue marble i landed upon with baby feet.

i uplifted the crust of Mother Earth,
and swift torrential rush of drama-death;
only mockingbirds sing at night sweetly.

And the starRock light stabs the night
falling, falling, falling everywhere
is the moon and Her Light!

Blossoming memory: well the last days
of winter, of my life which was as full of
dim, mystic musings, and when one day,
my soul was high, and my body was a fountain,
my mind in cloudy wisdom;
as i had been taught a certain
manifestation of guilt, then i understood
the meaning of life!

So i climbed down from the high-place, in
my heart, and in my mind, each life cycle,
chased with the fall of leaves, cradled in
the arms of the earth bringing back meaning of life
each hour of every day.

As i did so, i put in a stasis a profound
tree-spirit; my movements in time could not be
restored, my mind was silent, an image seen
in my consciousness was born of my broken heart,
it was born of care for my precious soul!

But the sacred tree-spirit i brought
to life was proud, it ignored me,
it stayed on the heights of my mind!
i knew that even the past has a home in the future,
that the stars which never fall in the rain,
their waves have no end, have risen in the trees
of my life, and a new dawn was coming.

It filled me with hope.

:: 01.16.2021 ::


SOONER OR LATER THE DISEASE WILL SPREAD

Hey, hey, hey, hey!
The biggest market is pacifiers
You know what goes in pacifiers?
Another mouth to feed.
A vagina to suck!

I went to the market and said, ‘Hell, no!
‘Give me an organic glue
“If only we had time we would have inserted a fucking hole
in my balls. I could have given her diabetes.
Yeah, I could have forced her to eat cheese!
That smells like my wife’s pussy”
No (i have no wife! no!!!!!!)
Going back to nature is not just about foraging:
You have to stop
You have to let go
You have to give up
You have to ask, ‘How can I have this?
I don’t know about water.
I’ve always had a problem with water
And everyone refuses to feed Love.
Life so full of secrets. Then again,
something about water.

You’re searching for more than
What I have. Because something’s got to be
better than this!

Nothing is better than this.

When it’s time to give up, to move on
and to let go; to get to the next level
it’s a little later in the day. Hey.
I’m off to find water. I don’t know where it is
but it’s there.

This island is in trouble: our government is out of control
and sooner or later the disease will spread.

It will kill us all!
In my arms I cradle a gun
It is mine and only mine.
I need a drop to survive
If only I can find a vein
My mouth is watering
with the sweet relief
of Love’s heroin.

But it is not enough. My heart is racing like a fish on a line.

I have to leave but I cannot. My fingers are shaking
my veins are dry.
I need a drop to survive
I need a drop to survive
And the worst of it is I don’t know where it is.
But it is there.

I don’t know how to find it
I’m looking for water or Love?!?

Ohh
Ohh

I’m looking for water
Ohh Ohh
Water!

Ohh

I need a drop to survive

:: 12.23.2020 ::


FOURTEEN

i wish I had more time and opportunity to explain my disgust to your rust-stained sarcophagus. To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.

Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth to your rust-stained sarcophagus!

To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.

Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth and your heart could only love the person who feeds it for nourishment — is a difficult task; so you resorted to Cupid’s slingshot!
But here’s an alternative: follow my heart down the garden path, until my sticky feet block the entrance of Cupid’s grave.

Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.

Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.

Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.
Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.
Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the paint bucket and I will lay it on a canvas of life

It was exactly 14 days since you told me you left the store early.
14 dreary days and I do not think you’ve been here once (not that I
would blame you for believing it).

14 days since I was mean to you, and then you said you’d be back
by 14.

:: 12.24.2020 ::


REFLECTION OF LOVE

As my sensational sensual moments bleed away and are no more seen by the vilest minds
my face deep within the riches of Earth’s soil away from unthought wars!
Unburdened by high wilt of human rine–
as pure Love has championed over darkly love.

And smallest voices as new born children spiritually cries of Spring keeping new born
butterflies afloat, is where Love strives
as droll god-beasts!

Such is the dance of perception as a reflection
through a prism; or early morning dew drop.

Time that not be for us — as purple roses
are sweeter to the but for me: deeper!

:: 12.21.2020 ::


CORPORATE CHEMICALS

SOMETIMES you have to reach out to know
sometimes to bleed to know
— my taste in music is on the smart phone
never in your face
takes me farther than i’ve ever been.
she has Instagram photos of big breasts
but i know how photoshop filled them out
and i slept in my car last night cursing
my government …
wasting money on corporate pigs
oh it hurts my heart as much as she does.
corporate food killing us
soft drinks and candy too — i once loved
what i tasted; it was poison. Now i am
running for my Life. Leaving corporate
Death and corporate medical — pills and psych
talk kills those who are weak.

   we run for our life
   we cry and then die
   before we awaken.

I had you somewhere within my coat pocket,
holding back your hand before you drank
corporate poison.
I will come back when your better.
(if you survive).
Life is a chemical for corporate Lives.
a chemical yeah. defy oh defy…yeah.

:: 12.18.2020 ::


INCREDIBLE SPECTACLE

WHEN i met you by the ‘Never Possible’ my feet were flames of sun by the meadow Moonbeams dancing upon my lonely tongue Saw a maple leaf fall twisting twirling propeller-swirls all within expecting hearts.

Incredible spectacle devouring my hungry mouth: this speed called love is above medical. When a leaf does not say what i mean i become a single filed formation escaping — running for my life from my heart.

Never possible calling me / i had your smiles within my pockets and found holes where my pennies fall upon the sidewalk____

(You better make this call)

that’s where your pennies are when a leaf does not say what i mean i become a filed formation escaping from my heart

Incredible spectacle
a speed called love above medical.

:: 11.23.2020 ::


POSTS

these guest posts left behind
after feeding the mind
from the best of books and with a
potent sense of humor
man! she’s done an angel’s work
like a hurricane
she’s perfect, fearless,
somehow it had to be just right
and so it was
everything came out like the mill
like a violin through a steel pipe
her chest and voice
who in the hell can sing like that?
now’s she got the way
to ride the winds,
rope in by a moment
and bam! there it is.

she made it, the same way the world makes it
each one standing shouting for change
like a piano wire dangling over a hill
like someone who’s seen and heard
better things yet neither not of this world
just a stroke of brilliance
so life changing that her music permeates
the walls, the kitchen, the hallway,
even the carpet
sometimes she waits, takes a big inhale
and plummets to the floor.

:: 11.16.2020 ::


SUMMER SUN DRIPS ON ROOFTOPS

summer sun drips on rooftops let alone
seven divided by seven the digits line up
the age old math equation:
nine is the chosen number;
lithographs and insects steal souls
rising west i fell to my knees
playing snake with demons
how dare i dream
decimating everything!

As long as i crawl i’ll survive
one day you will take my eyes from me
leaving my tongue unfed
just then the world crumbles
the worms crawl their way back into
my pores and i will turn back into dust
but i promise you

it’s okay

she’ll make it through the night
as long as the human heart beats

:: 12.04.2021 ::


DEVOURED BY THIS NIGHT

THE other day i was passing a certain gate as rain fell as it will in spring ropes of silver gliding from sunny thunder into freshness; as if god’s flowers were pulling upon bells of gold.

i looked up and thought to myself:

Death.

And will you with elaborate fingers possibly touch the pink hollyhock existence whose pansy eyes look from morning till night into the street unchangingly? The always old lady sitting in her gentle window like a reminiscence partaken softly at whose gate smiles always as the chosen flowers of reminding me?

And it felt as if life as a curtain caressing the bottom and i realized that the back of my head was already the red rose but i laughed aloud and when i looked behind i saw a horrid twin with red hair from some diseased shade: who was standing watching us from the wood side until she saw her wayward twin and from the trees spring a golden fruit made of bitumen with hair whiter and flowing like ravens feathers whose bright eyes saw exactly what they looked at.

And one nagged black beauty who had apparently lost her black beauty as soon as the white back of my head turned white then all black beauty fell in sync with the waning sun devoured by the night.

:: 10.17.2020 ::


MANY TIMES, MORE THAN TWICE

MANY times, more than twice have I seen the ghosts of family, friends and then some whose faces that I did not know.
Quaintly, with ethereal elegance they are silky touch, feather breath, and opal eye, outside of the tick-tock of father time. It is most inappropriate to ask of them to state their business or intended pleasure
extend your politeness over scorn I say. But if I may make a brief apparatus is there a paper in the room, a hall-cabinet or a desk on which a white sheet is available? Might I do with the sheet as a summons?
The respect that one owes one’s guests becomes tested with boredom, oft times probed with practicality of thrift for there is nothing useful to be erected in the holder of the sheet.
Only when it is needful to be done is the one supposed to write in it. The space for writing is too limited.
Must the words be in black to be read? Must they belong to make any good or neither would it do to pay homage to the white sheets anymore? Might I pour out some ink, some thread to fashion myself a gnomon of sorts. Searching the paper to be free from ink might I try another opal eye, like my mother and the razors my grandfather used?
To groom his hair, and his kinks, each time they wore them down, but never ending. Might I even fawn over a ghost. Might I shed a tear for no other reason than it would be distasteful, and uncivil, to not do so. The wrong that is done to ghosts, which is, who has time for them when there is death’s work that need be done?
It is said the uncle, being thin, frail with a rasping voice, would sit silent and tired; sleep nearly all day, never greeting the other relatives, as the family has dwindled to once, two at most.
That he would be found some hours before sunset, with no water and no food beside his dead little cousin. Who was his spitting image when his lips would open he would tarry another moment?
Recline again, only to open them and wander the empty halls, awaiting. Someone who could help him with his chores, is the scene I imagine. A half asleep and suffering ghost who will never rest as long as
he continues to obey the order of his keeper, waiting until someone pays his due respect.
Now the spirit, like some phantom to the nighthawks of the wind and the greens of the apple trees.
He moves as lightly as the wind.
He dances like the light of an airplane.
He looks to live yet again.
In a white sheet, with a black script which could read nothing.

:: 09.26.2020 ::
/maj. Rev.\