Now my Gown and Tulle
feel the Wind that weaves a Shade –
and on the roof i cannot tell
since the picture there is –
because Time, a Form, stood a-hiding
and well It did.
Words and Music (my own)
Performed by James Dale
“He is oft-injured by his men
or with their Menages,
‘I think I hear him say:
“His Portents are the Dews –
His Words the Dews – and Mine –
His Ends are Ieya’s.
“I wish this next Scene were ended
with the Destination of my own Fate –
“The Flight of Orpheus, I suppose,
“Off the Coast of Homer’s Folly –
Or Death – to Eternity.”
Futility was King in the play, under the pen of D. H. Lawrence.
I hope he was a reader of Shakespeare.
Well, I cannot write about this.
It is really too late.
There was an early book, and there is always another.
The fact that Lawrence is a poet is very well known;
and many of his poems have been put to music.
i have heard those – sometimes for many times – though
i should hate to go against the dead.
A great deal is being written about D. H. Lawrence
in the second decade of the twenty-first century.
:: 01.26.2021 ::
And big indiscreet
kisses made my dry
thoughts turn wet
-as time ticks
the color of
Mind a wild ray
of ideas flooded
my Soul -the point
:: 07.31.2020 ::
THIS POET WROTE:
while leaves march down an empty alleysuddenly she is barely holding upon the blue skies /of punch red-blue\of a galant southern magnolia sweetand fresh of a sudden burning smellfruit for the fallen souls are we forever together.
far so for father trick of mind/here is a Strange Tale\upon his tomb stone. this POET WROTE
:: 07.13.2020 ::
o f c o l o r fulSOUNDS that died when this novel began as the stars are falling i wonder why have i been waiting so long to be here — where i once said, “where i am going?” All within your sunshine i found the light shining through; the barking trees and dogs crying; this seasonal salad between your thighs /within the sunshineLOVE\ i climbed up to tie all eyes to not feel shame giving angels such surprise –> that i am with you and my editor cried:
” you have been waiting so long;to be where you have been going –within the nectar-sauce of LOVE “
so i finished beating my glyph-heartstaying within you now until the Caesarof LAW has waited this long — to belike-ever your seas could dry upwhere ALL WISH GO;/jk324323423\ within the target of PASSION.
:: 07.13.2020 ::
Beneath this silence is hope
that you should never leave me
And love loves to love
but hope is that you remain here
that my weirdness is a little
me — and yours is as mine
is love; a quivering happiness!
:: 12-21-2018 ::
Standing on the corner
of a street called life
i can see the freeway
and all my dreams
they’re rushing high
they’re rushing by
And a beggar begs for a dollar
the police for a crime
And a judge reminds me
of the nature of laws
within men’s twisted minds
so today i lose it
i lose the hope
so today heaven’s heavy
lead with a knotted rope
And heaven’s lost my heart
— today’s gone heaven’s lost
my heart and mind
so i say so long
with living time
standing on the corner
of a street called life
:: 09-15-2018 ::
i’m not g a y but y o u. ARE beautiful
&. y e l l o w s walk by
on two pink sticks ______hunched black
cowboy hats shoot
AND booked worms abused by Mr. Jones
of Manor Farm are bet’er than
in brick and mortar.
:: 07- 14-2018 ::
The town buried her beneath peach-red skies: less than several days ago.
All the while in the distance, gravel-filled caws in the distance measured a
thickness of time; the casket lid, rained with tears, sank beneath Earth’s longest wave.
Everyone had dirt under their nails and a heavy weight of guilt. Then,
at night on the 1st of May she returned to town on an errand so vital
that she had come unannounced and entered
into the cafe where she last had cried– while holding the hand of her lover,
she sat down at the chair with red eyes and again watched her fiancé bleed
from a wound within his head; his blue sapphire eyes melting as their dying hearts.
THE gunman was wrestled to the ground
on top of a love poem she
had penned to her fiancé . In part it read:
“The town buried her beneath peach-red skies…”
:: 04-25-2018 ::
Only W H EN i am Spiritually
inclined. BUT so many whispered
WORDS OF WISDOM have been revealed by
your hand; “But here i am, with my tears
of joy and arms and heart and even brain/
MIND; me, please. Look at me — just look,
(Said your heart), But i cannot wake up
to the sounds of weeping from the churchyard
or miles into the City so sleep pretty
love and don’t cry //and when your chest
releases heaves i sing all lullabies
all within your tender ear // make
My Sunnyside up and let’s start Over/
Inside a new paradigm, ugh.
:: 12-27-2016 ::