Tag Archives: #words

THE WALKNG LIVING GHOST

i felt dreams dripping away
how i felt the dream for a
day that lasted years.

i still recall the taste of
my own voice laughing for
pure joy knowing deep love.

until it was ripped away.

you can make this go away
you can make this all go away
until it went away.

I still feel the deep pain
of losing everything.

How i still wish something
i can never have…

and now the colors are gone
how love made it go away
how love made me a loser
living scraping inside my head
until i don’t want life any more:

words. spaces. paragraphs
love, inside my head. regardless of
academic structure i want
what i can never have
and those things i lost sting and
break apart this poetic heart.

Tell me: you can make this all
go away so make it all go away
/die\ become a ghost instead
someone who lives upon this Earth.

You walk across my living grave.

:: 03.17.2022 ::


PURPLE TISSUE

HELLO. i am one whose ached bones
laid in the gutter with tears flowing
down toward knees — we all bleed.

Then as wild wind life came back
into me. Picking up from the spot
where you have died is hard. So hard
but the chorus of angels sing:

‘somebody help this poor fellow
who thinks he can write!’
The angels sing, “fool!”

You see i’ve no rhythm and lose
the beat but keep in time with
thoughts of this heart — everyday
life day or night
never brought home royal life |
someone says, ‘a fool’

every moment is a word to write down
someone everyone anything speaks to me
after hour after moment in soul
in spirit in a minute i seek kisses
guess they won’t fool — kissing mirror
a spirit-tool____ i don’t know

yeah yeah yeah a rock, a cloud or smile

how love drips upon the canvas of life
that moment lasts as precious love a life time

So see: i keep moving onward
breaking out from this prison cell i found myself
free shining for tomorrow so awaken tomorrow
church steeple with lost people
office workers weeping
politicians hurting to be
brave to free all people.

and i pick through these aching bones laid within
the soul of my gutter with tears flowing down
hear oh here i am alone — the one
once more i open a door through fear believing
this heart shall go on.

:: 03.16.2022 ::


NATURE LOVE

BUTTERFLY:

swing your wings a slanted figure eight
make a lover of you outta me

move a mountain
move the air
move my heart
into a life

A perfect shape of my heart
butterfly organ make me cry
how you move never shadows
only pure light

Let’s do it
Let’s do it
under the shade
of a weeping willow

Nature have a fit upon the wings
of never-quit let’s shoot the shit
and make a human more equipped
to see the nature that keeps us fit

so flap your wings slanted figure eight
the lover of nature is One with All of us
and all of you.

Sweet nectar butterfly.

:: 03.16.2022 ::


LITTLE FINGERS

we forget about the summer that was just ended.

It is the time to honor the dead.

And yet, the dust remains.

Drunk upon sadness at three in the morning of

blue lines in a heart of your dark blue seas

Conceals everything that is the opposite of that.

It is a year before I write any of this.

First they must grow strong, then they must grow old.

SO As time goes by, we live and we die.

We live long, but we die young.

Blessed is the sleep of the aged.

Blessed is the man who stays awake.

When I read this, I wonder why a man who wanted to break
the sound barrier is so sad.

Perhaps he was thinking of all the men he knew.

Who died before making it to the top of the sky?

Maybe he was thinking of how great it would have been
if he could only break the speed of light.

it’s life and love for nothing but death.

:: 03.12.2022 ::


Simple Kiss

FEATHERS of hearts!

Rushing rivers through!

Three voices singing
history and truth.

Mystery outside self
expectations inside!

Surpassing beauty
is pure talent —
to describe Love.

I decide: one pure
simple kiss!

:: 03.09.2022 ::


YOUR THIN ARMS

I wonder if your tears have finally run dry, or if they’re just leaking through your ears and your open mouth.

A tear spills over and lands on my cheek. I wipe it away with the palm of my hand, and you look up and see me wiping my own tears away.

You try to smile and lean in for another kiss, but I’m struggling. I’m thinking about what will happen to us if I do get to live. You see my hesitation, but continue, keeping your smile intact. The kiss begins to feel awkward, but still I kiss your forehead. It’s a goodbye kiss. You open your eyes and smile. You make a big gulping noise, and throw yourself into the ocean. The water covers me and I begin to sink with you into the abyss.

I hope that you’ll find your way back to me. Follow/

You open your arms for a hug, and I walk into them. The world around us, while still extremely wet, I knew how it felt to stand within your thin arms.

:: 02.05.022 ::


ONEWE

WE are kin of the soil

but dig with bare hands only what needed and no more

what are my bones function?

there is the answer but I am forbidden to give it

i am to swallow all this raw meat

and what if the meat is maggotous?

what if the meat is breast cancer?

what if the meat is smoke-polluted?

what if the meat is mold-riddled?

what if the meat is wet from someone else’s shit?

how am I to know the truth?

never will I know.

is this why no one else takes this thing seriously?

and what is covered with a bit of tar emriculated pavement —

not tarred but organic and tarless emriculated — as my knees

like lemons when I kneel on it — I have nothing to fall down

to lose so I kneel in her tireless, humid, viscous astringency —

and all the arteries of my body cry out with their own unique melody

when I kneel to receive my fecund material gift from the dirt –

and this body now crushed in this specific form is the very image

of an ultimate answer to my continual dilemma of achieving what is

defined and defined is that it’s onewe are kin of the soil

:: 03.05.2022 ::

(*Onew Condition: the ability to freeze the atmosphere with a lame joke or gesture; to be excessively clumsy.)


SILVER CORD

Such were the words.

An old poet friend came to me, in 2010, to write poetry for a compilation I was putting together.

On that visit, he gave me a composition, the title being:

‘Silver Cord’.

I asked what the poem was about, knowing that I was going to write poetry about dying,
and a theme I was sure I wanted to explore.

He then told me that, this poem was also about the love we all hold so dear.

The poem depicts our link, from the beginning, to the end.
A relationship forged in the fire of human desire, bound together by a golden cord.

The poem is personal.

As the love-connection is inter-twined in the poem, it also represents my own.

The poem reminds me, at every opportunity, to love, and even if you never see your loved one again, you still hold them in the golden cord of love.

I am so glad, in my final days, that I can tell you all that I have loved and have been loved by; that love and that love will always be a part of me.

I had often wondered why the end of life happens in the way it does; why a person can die in the arms
of someone they loved, and know that they were loved.

But the poem has answered that question, and reminded me that the end is only the end, when we love.

Our life is just the beginning, our love is a golden cord, which links us all, and there is a joy and a love that goes beyond any pain, beyond any worry, beyond any ending.

We find beauty, harmony, and love where no one expected.
In death, love remains a relationship, not an ending.

I hope you enjoy the poem, now that I have managed to record its beautiful melody!

You, dear life, will remain in my golden cord!

P.S. I had left the poem here on my website, a few years ago.
I feel, it is time to bring it back.
I am sorry if this message seems cryptic.
It is my final gift to you.
My love to all my family and friends.

P.P.S. A special thank you, to my close friends.
You are the only ones who know the truth!

Signed
The Carnival Clown


RUNMINATIONS ON LIFE PROCESSES

SOFT slipper, coffee, cat *fed*
reading sad news i laughed
how the world blew its head
And anchors held their breath
must ask Musk about Mars
they’re sending pointy spears
into that atmosphere soon
Noticed how the sun changed
once we ran under its light
now burn scorned at its white
yellow used to be a thing
dresses, glasses, cars
and flying machines
/then cern came\ …rewind
things happen before their done
walked from work to home before
6 am and fell into a dream that
couldn’t be seen : i can never
count from infinity to one
but could really turn it on
/phillip are you awake: sir,
the universe needs to know\
[in the basement waiting
for the white van to come]

:: 02.22.2022 ::


The WAR Machine

Filed under: me | 73 Comments »

That is what i feel when i am
half empty.

That is what i feel when i am
half full.

that is what i feel
when i am
more than what is around me.

And when i die

it will all fade away

and as it fades away

i will feel again.

~ // // // // //

That is what i feel when i am
half full.

That is what i feel when i am
half empty.

That is what i feel when i am
more than what is around me.

And when i die
it will all fade away.

And as it fades away

i will feel again.

^^

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