Tag Archives: #poetry

SOMEDAY WE SHALL MEET YOUNDER

The taste of your skin and the color of your heart

i’m crying
i’m singing

when we touched our lips in twilight
i see blue eyes weeping
tell me, when we hugged goodbye
was your heart always beside us
in memories of vain; through years
and journeys and moons and suns,
as children cry out for joy when
it rains when it rains

Love as a dry earth burgeoning that
it did not know// someday when we
met younder the gallop of horses,
the infinite perfume of a dusty earth
that everything you spoke, everything
from your skin that everything comes
back to my mouth.

i’m crying
i’m singing

like newborn bread:
and with you i become born again
in the rain.

:: 10.10.2020 ::


AGAINST THE WEIGHT OF LIFE AND FLESH

Oh my goodness gracious let me tell you the news:
  My head’s been wet with the midnight dew //   I’ve been down on bended knee:   Talkin’ to the man from Galilee.  He spoke to me in the voice so sweet. I thought I heard the shuffle of the angel’s feet \  He called my name and my heart stood still.

When he said, “Phillip, go do my will!”
Well my goodness gracious let me tell you the news:
My head’s been wet with the midnight dew — I’ve been down on bended knee.

Talkin’ to the man from Galilee.   He spoke to me in the voice so sweet
I thought I heard the shuffle of the angel’s feet.

He called my name and my heart stood still.

When he said, “Phillip, go do my will!”

I’m a-listin’ to the gospel man
I’m a-listin’ to the gospel man

Well my goodness gracious let me tell you the news:
my head’s been wet with the midnight dew.

I’ve been down on bended knee.
Talkin’ to the man from Galilee.

He spoke to me in the voice so sweet:
I thought I heard the shuffle of the angel’s feet
He called my name and my heart stood still
When he said, “Phillip, go do my will!”
Just a whisper in the dark
Just a whisper in the dark
Could have been by any other name
You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Till you hear the trumpets and all the angels
marching.  It’s alpha and omega’s Kingdom
coming.

:: 10.10.2020 ::


ANGOSTURA BITTERS — NO SUN NO LIGHT

i can stir you with a swizzle stick     //make a thin neck break: make you
a Manhattan that takes you to Jupiter now \   through the heart rye or Canadian whisky and red vermouth :: we travel the stars buying all the real estate like a bloody Mary and turn your coals into ice or make your spine climb up your back — Maraschino cherry
(swizzle stick) a truce for life up in my room and pull
the world from under you /analyze any faith through the brain
with no antidote — we all know blow-back sometimes for a thrill
but nothings like Earth’s air (we are searching for a place
like Earth to ruin again) light years to go.

Bought a planet called HD 209458 b (nickname “Osiris”)
all they wanted was a few beads and an axe called the “lady.”
reminded me of my ancestors and Chicago.  Now I am soiled by
soul; interplanetary officers joke and say, “he would sell
his mother if she was a rock.”
  So now i set my sights on a region called Empty God.
No planets, stars, or gases.  
  Under my console i keep an ancient alien document
no one knows of — therein lies the mercy of God.
After thrusters here i go.

:: 10.10.2020 ::


Racing the hesitating sun

Racing the hesitating sun

They leave it in the dust when i am a dirty lost boy. Uprising cumulonimbus towers
Clearly indicating showers to drown all the growing flowers aAnd flood the ground
with their power winds blowing from the east
Cold and warm air mingling Like ghosts dueling with the living the air feels fuzzy
and strange Something evil is coming
Curling leaves and swelling wood ..The trees can feel it too \It’s in their roots
and in my blood Quickly pushing its way through This is not good
A storm is beginning to stew Rain announces its arrival
On pitter patter stomp stomp feet Whispering gently from the sky
Before knocking loudly at the window
Begging to come in, OH WON’T YOU LET ME IN
Flooding my doorstep with darkness Eyes open

Lightning volleys down from the sky Searing my eyes with its image
It scrapes its long fingers down my window What is light and what is dark?
My lungs are being crushed from the inside I am falling I am falling
Let the currents take me Eyes shut Silence
Beautiful unknowing No harsh flashing
The clouds are receding trees not reaching for me
No more water between my fingertips
No more wondering what I might lose
Welcoming the cool shiver and soft echoing ripples
I drift back into dreamland into darkness into night Sweet peace.
Gates of Eden

Rosemary was resting quietly in her bed when she was awakened by the most wonderful sound she could ever imagine, her mother’s laughter.
The sound cut through the night like a ray of sunlight, bathing everything in radiant warmth.
Her eyes sprung open and she turned to look at her mother as she bustled around the room.
She was giggling and bouncing her hips as she prepared breakfast for the family.
“I’m fixing sausage gravy and biscuits, Mom!
Is there anything else you need?”
Rosemary rubbed her eyes and yawned.
She wondered what could have possibly woken her so early.
She had only opened her eyes an instant before.
“Actually, there is.” Her mom replied and then popped a piece of sausage in her mouth.
“We have company.” She winked at Rosemary and continued, “They’re coming right now.”
Rosemary slowly sat up in bed.
Her heart was beating rapidly, almost out of control, but she tried to remain calm.
“Is everything okay?” She asked, her voice beginning to rise in panic.
“I hope so.
I hope so.” Her mom responded as she brought the frying pan of sausage gravy and biscuits over to the table and set it down.
“Pour me a cup of coffee, will ya?”
Rosemary quickly found the coffee can and poured her mom a cup before bringing the pot back to her.
“Here ya go, Ma.
Drink up.
I hope you have a wonderful time.”
“Oh, Rosemary, I’m so excited.
I haven’t seen her in so long!” She said as she sipped on her coffee.
Rosemary’s heart felt like it was going to break out of her chest.
She was jumping around, unable to hold her tears in.
She could not believe her mom’s reaction.
She was jumping and wiggling and squealing and hugging her mother.
“Mom, she said her name was Rosemary.” She sobbed and clung to her mom for dear life.
Her mom looked at her in confusion.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.” She said softly.
Rosemary looked into her mother’s eyes, the tears still flowing down her cheeks.
“Do you remember my friend?
She used to live here?”
Her mother reached across the table and took her daughter’s hands in hers.
“Yes, Rosemary, I remember her very well.
We’ve been friends a long time.
What is this all about?
Is she OK?”
Rosemary nodded her head.
“I’m sure she is.
She was here the day your daddy and I got married, you know.
She came to the church.
She said she wanted to come and meet the young man I was going to marry.
Isn’t that strange?”
“That she would remember that far back and the fact that she came to meet him, well, that’s something else all together.” She agreed.
Rosemary let go of her mother’s hands and began walking back and forth in front of the kitchen table.
She began to wiggle her hips and bounce her shoulders.
“She was here, Mom.
Her name was Rosemary.
She and I used to play together. Remember?”

“Yes, I remember.
She has been living with her Aunt and Uncle.
They moved to Louisiana a few years back.
She had no one here, so we thought it best for her to come and stay with us.
It was so sad to see her so upset.
She has a beautiful red wagon that your daddy made for her.
You loved that wagon, didn’t you Rosemary?”
“We used to have so much fun playing on it.
We used to pretend we were in an old western movie.
We would sit on it and have tea parties.

You’d bring us cake and cookies and we’d just pretend.
Remember, Mom?”
“I can’t believe you remembered.
I’ve tried to forget.”
“Well, I know you have, but I remember.
I remember all the fun we had.” Rosemary’s face was bright red from embarrassment.

“But, she was here, Ma, I know she was.
I saw her.
She was in the garden, Mama, and she looked just like me.”
Her mother closed her eyes, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Rosemary, honey, she’s gone.
You know she is.”

“Oh, she’s dead, isn’t she?
Just like Pa, she died in the war,” Rosemary said, chocking back a sob.
“I’m so sorry, honey.” She sat down and put her arm around Rosemary and held her for several minutes.
Finally she pulled her daughter close to her and held her tightly.

“Rosemary, we need to tell you about this.

Now, I want you to put your arms around your daddy and tell him all this.”
Rosemary began to sob as she hugged her daddy.
Her mother turned her head and kissed him on the cheek.
“I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you, Daddy.
I know this must be very difficult for you to share with our Rosemary.”
“Rosemary, listen to me, you must remember what this wonderful woman looked like.
Can you remember?”
“She was old, Mama, very old.
I was sad to see her go, but I know she is at peace now.”
“It is very hard for a child to understand that, but I think she was able to die with as much peace as you could wish for.
She died the same way as your Pa, without any pain.”
“No, not like Pa. He was in pain and he died with some of that pain.”

“Daddy, she wasn’t sick.
She was just old.
She was the grandother I’ve always loved.”
“What is your Grandma Rosemary’s name?”
“My grandmother?
My mother’s mother?
Rosemary Johnson is her name.”
“Yes, that’s it, but what is her real name?”
“Her name was Lydia.
I guess I forgot.
You know Grandma Rosemary never told us, but Lydia never told us, either.”

“Are you sure she never told you?

Perhaps it’s something you wish to remember.”

“I just thought she told us because we are named after her.

She never really told us anything.

We never really knew her.

It was always just about my mother.

She talked all the time about Grandma Rosemary and how much she loved her and all.”

“You know, Lydia could be right.

You should be able to remember more about her.

You need to know what kind of woman she was.

Do you remember any stories about her?”

Rosemary’s face turned red and she buried her head in her daddy’s chest.

“No, I don’t remember any stories.”

“Well, remember she had a rose garden in her back yard.

We lived on a farm and had several gardens.

It was her flowers she loved.”

“Yes, I remember the roses.

She always had beautiful roses.”

“That’s because she loved you very much.

She was a wonderful person and I’m so sorry she died.”

“It’s hard to forget how much she loved me.”

“Lydia was a special woman and she loved you very much, Rosemary.

She would be so proud to know you remember her


BANG BANG — BIG UNIVERSE LITTLE THOUGHTS

O’ ZONE burns my nostrils. I was conceived by the
pre-birth of the big bang /my father was no thing you
could understand \ we three created the concept
of what you called God and then we went forward bleeding
stars and planets across the path of our birth. Wishing
we were like your God, we had no point of conception
; it was before space and time. The three of us had our
talent. One for science, the other for philosophy, and me:

THE MIND.
So we did. Created Physics and the color of vision.
turned toward dead eyes.

Created the Landlord of all universes — he a psychopath —
a rat age. They slept in what had once been a gymnasium.
Watched the Son of God die — there were worse things than crucifixion,
there were terrible cries and gashing teeth.

His Soul snaking out at his Ankle.

I was 16 when I was murdered. October 16, 1979. No antidote.

It was a pleasure to burn.

So now, realize: ghosts do not haunt places but minds.
Do you lick electricity and have nothing to fear?
i know you think we’re strange but do you have fears?
We were never born upon a planet but inside glory.

:: 10.08.2020 ::


LEVIATHAN DEATH SMELLS SALTY

IF you cannot sleep you have to swim

across that Ocean of dreams

smoke and trip upon wet seaweed

taking your loved one to town

   the seashell sings

but our human throats are too dry

  but we can cry

we cannot sleep but a strange

feeling up from the depths of

the seas see — we can surely die

f

ooli

sh  sh

apes

remind me of the throw down inside

the bone cave of all minds.

  a beautiful ship should come soon;

sadsadsadsadsad so finally i lost

it so completely bleeding upon the

white sheets of my sails.

:: 10.07.2020 ::


THE SORROWFUL UNBAKED COOKIE HEART

AND snow dream)tears!Shout
i’m an over/undone heart
sweet muffin bird-like
feathers tickle me
the streaked glass-water:
flowers between summer
hearts struck my eyes,
lips so tenderly crushing
stones(h-u-r-t) dreams
oooh, sir!
the proper name you sang
when speaking to me!
so — Victorian girl
)oh god — keeping me
sheeps like lamps
covering dark nights
a water colored canvas
m e a n i n g
love is what we
denied twice.
i broke my soul
in a shout
forgetting
un. der (lies)
i’m a self-crumbling
cookie unbaked
will you eat me?
no. i crumble

:: 03-12-2015 ::


TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL

Bells of St Paul’s Cathedral i love you!
in a dreaming –> slipping away!
you take my soul with you
dreaming something unlike
my life which I never owned!
my heart is a large mouth
but your notes too perfect for my plate!

I love you!

you take my soul with you in a dream
like a song; you ever wanted to climb
up a temple that isn’t there
and sing, “You are my goddess:
you make my heart rhyme!”

You’ve never seen a part I won’t show you-
tell me how you feel.
I dare you to say what you need to say
only say the same words
I gave you.

You take my soul with you in a dream like a song
I’m still alive! And even the walls believe
that I am yours-then you stare in the mirror
and everything is gone — and you scream, scream:
you feel me I’ll sing you mine!
And it’s in the color of my eyes-and I cry.

In a dream like a song I’m still alive!
And even the walls believe that I am yours-
and you stare in the mirror and everything is gone
and you scream, scream:
you feel me I’ll sing you mine!
and it’s in the color of my eyes

So sweet angel, tell me how you feel.

:: 10.05.2020 ::


I AM NEVER BROKEN

IF i could speak to the world
just a single thing
it would be not to worry
i won’t remain useless
i gather around my faith
a broken heart of life
Father in Heaven
a golden chute for me to
fall into but i fight for
this life upon a crazy world
where i have no voice.
My heart, my head and hands
are my own and i make them
shape them into the Life
i Live.

I will get there one day.
I pray.
I will get there one day.
I know.
I will drop down to my knees
and pray.

I know i am small but it’s
all i have here in flesh
and blood and pain Father.

I am NEVER BROKEN.

:: 10.03.2020 ::


SMOKING CIGARETTES AND SPIPPING COFFEE

Many-colored and candle-lights; high beyond the soft trees a fresh country
leans heavily toward the night, far beyond the sea’s shady shore.

Beams, o’er wide fields like a white star, \till from the earth’s crown drops the thunders. With breaths that stay the night, with sounds that never are hushed, with golden night-glories or amber the perfumes that I catch/, and wild nights of laughter: and by the deep sea violets and ladyship’s, with the smelling rose, and perfumes of forest; and rarities that we saw in open Heaven, and the drink of Oia, on the sweet chestnut tree,
with which the feet of Aphrodite might be not shackled, when the lust of Him; as some deem I.

And so we lament over him, with our wreaths Pallid, wan, or but paled by love’s heavy sighs, lovers whose burning lust is over; who shall still desire now thy embraces, or feel the beauty of thy cheek;
who shall fancy even now that the bonds of love are off the tongues of thine; or that all the charms of thy face have lost their force, and are swaying at the wind from thy native garlands?
And what pities the future lover, if even of l’amour’s kiss they have bewailed and of sweet love’s cloying aftertaste they are not ill pleased; if there should still be that sighing longing, that sighing sadness, that sighing passion, that sighing sigh, that sighing waste of life?

And what more pity if I should too that same sorrow too should befall him!

And I see that love weeps, in wailing. till her outstretching fingers take him to her bosom and tie him tight to the heart and mind of the one.
Now then, take thy ease with love’s passion, as a fair angel, whom God makes with an ecstatic gleam and white hair; his love’s upcast bird-chaser,
His love’s lady-mistress, His love’s wife, or maidenhood.
But seek that pleasure not with a partner, of whom one is no more than a plaything. What kind of thing is it, these men with whom we do marry, to whom a common fellow-countryman is no more honorable or good than the butcher or tailor, or shoe-maker. What kind of thing is it,
for whom is it either to worship God, or to lie in death’s burning sands?
If the sweet to taste was here among us, and the earl’s daughter would choose me, and not him, what with the big open eye, with all its blood-shooting sight, the mad gaze of their wild eyes!
And the round forked tongue! and the crazed face!
With the hanging lip! with the snarling teeth!
With the long hair! with the strange uncouth sign of their
Cocks and she-birds!
What would become of my high rank, to be taken, in my home country, as a commoner with one of those low fellows, whose fear stems from the spleen, and whose blood stems from the kidneys.
For I am rather wild and awkward, egotistic and impractical, desirable in their eyes, and hurtful in their lips, but if it were this way, I should be quite happy.
Would he ever require my foot for aught?
For my breast for his belly? My seat for his horse? I think not. Should I have my house, my servants, my arms, and I am well armed, yet I should still groan to see that from some far foreign land was by God taken a young and ambitious kinsman.

To perish so cruelly, so without hope would I ever be glad of any harm coming to him.

:: 10.03.2020 ::