graffiti me

rampage
beige,
caged.
host
bellicose.
graffiti me.

quivering headlights

quivering headlights
birch beech cypress
a quieted line.
murmurs; not words.
malfunctioned.
traffic lites,
roundabouts,
revolving.
Negev dust;
gods groundswell.

sunken nightly

a hollowed hull
rusty discourse
bare.
on the rocks
splintered
exposed.
driftfully
personified
splashed
white caps,
 night caps,
      all caps,
serenely. severely.

Le grande Sahara beach

venus do milo
did you know
you could've
been a
grecian column
or cornice
stone

le grande sahara
your
beaches once
graced by the
ocean blue,
waving not drowning
goodbye
sand

don't  tell
the butterfly

con federation

federate me;
civility
unity
respectfully
             
segregate me;
intolerance
sectarian
division
           
billowing steam
broadcast
hourly,
loudly.

tower
street
both concrete;
feet
under
feet.

is the
conductor
ever
louder
than
the entire
choir?

nebuchadnezzar's den

nebuchadnezzar
got him
a den,
poor judas
got him
some skin.
egypt got
that parted
sea.
9/11
waiting
to see.
reflexes are
guesses,
and we're
all still
counting
on galilee;
walking on...

review view

and just
how long
did you
stare at
The review,
to agree
that this
piece was,
good?
good commentary
good review
good taste
good company
good good.
st.mark's place
where is that
now?
just east of northern Syria
west of eastern Iran

mon landfill

a curators vista;
works
of
a body.
this      wooden table
that      notebook
these    stilos.
a gallery,
collective
breaths;
every consonant,
vowel, article:
the, a.
ad interim
overlooked
allcovered
underrubble,
mon landfill

battybatty

running down
the line,
time.
looking back
to see,
biography.
spell-check
auto-correct
white-out
stain-remover
user, chooser.
atticy,
batty batty.
bookends,sends
submits,quits.
DNA
trail,
breadcrumbing,
family-style
din din.
praying
divine,
blinds.
passing
of the
piece,
silhouetted
by a
candlelight.
birth
rates/dates/fates.
kiss
good byes
by

trunks and crys

trunks
just
don't
sway,
aways.
I've heard
a baby
cry,
rockabye.

pedal/push/wheel

routines
obvious,
oblivious.
pedal/push/wheel.
is a title as
invigorating as
the finale?
what amount
of water
makes a
watermelon?
a human?
a miracle?
flood consciousness.
fluid Buddha

on flame

famously
that
famous look.
you look,
not me.
rolling
that stone,
momentum;
by
a magazine,
lean
into
the
center-fold,
sold.
bought by
an ad,
subtractionally;
no change.
all is all,
the screen,
a dream.
edited.
silent saharan billboards fading

unknown eclipse

I know.
nothing
is new
under that
orange sun.
in the black
of night
two oldies
bump
into eachother,
and i didn't know.

that's where i wanna be

if the
dr. seuss
drank a
goblet of
walden pond
while on the road,
that's where
i wanna be.

Pompeii picnic

nail slides
into wall,
picture
framed,
Pompeii picnic.

inthis

in this
life next,
or next
moment.
i pray
courageous practices
not
complacent prime-times.
subtract self/add services.
unbounded,
unhinged,
love
waltz me
through thee
holi threshold

Abundantly

violence
rained
downward
on me,
my
dream.
revisited;
venomous clouds
sped past
violently;
blackblack
drops,
dripdripdrip.
waves splashed
down
over me
abundantly

spinning; always spinning

spinning
dizzily,
fingers
across thee
globe.
[pause]..spin
topography [what are we]
we thought
we thought
some-thing up,
but simply
register a
billion on
our
frail isolated
fingers;
times seven. oh, humility.
native fur/colonial skin.
nowly;
isolate
and suburbanly beige.
perhaps,
that
faithful
paper boy
will soon
deliver (or revere; paul?)
local
words;          
a door-to-door.
sacred mounds.
beacon hills.

haveyoueverseen

have you
ever seen
the plaza
Vatican,
have you
ever seen
the pillar
Rome.
have you
ever seen
the temple
Mesopotamia,
Athens,
Asia,
Medina.
have you
ever seen
Golgotha
Via Dolorosa
Via Damascus Gate.
a spear
through a
pomegranate,
a needle and
a dromedary.

peering through

peering through
transcendental blinds,
a small club
in Cambridge MA.
flanking your
banks
of that
concord pond.
echoes
ripple
rattle through
golden
New England foliage.
divinity still
lingers
round words
once stated.
through dense fog,
your ferry still carries.

edging for

edging for
some scaffold
utopia,
babel of babel.
a ruler is always
a straight straight line.
circulation is orbital
all rivers are deltas,
pendulums are motion
emotions erratic tasers.
one foot, one river,
two
times.
remember that storm?
on the sea?
galilee

some space

some
space,
vast open.
control
shuts
that door,
bolted and locked.
an
endless horizon
allows space
time
to
flatten out
all
the days
beating
concerns.
unlock
that door,
fall into that
open sea.
endlessly silver
blinding
effervescent

drafting floor

third draft
throw away.
fourth,
a stray.
five through ten,
end.
the grass
now
brown,
pink pedals
too.
fertile
words
move

checking

checking
my beating
phone,
not this
heart;
attack.

primary colors

gaunt
slightly
gangly,            ash
sway
back
forth,
windy
lullaby.
few
clinging
before
destiny.
parting
leaf,                magenta
please
fall on
me;
living
souly
between
this earth
and
that sky.
                      primary colors.

sun arise

and
if i
had to
see
through
another's
eyes.

surprise.
surprise.

eat sleep
rise.
blood flesh
tears.

just
before that
sun arise

remind me
again. again.
again.

samaritan
samaritan
samaritan

whispering surprise

a
polling politics
on the backs
of division.
just how
weather-vain?

holy,
teach me
grace's
whispering
surprise.

my tongue
my sight
my hands
my allegiances

samaritan.
the other.
our brother
sister, mister
friend.

news can
be greater,
just check
the source.

did you laugh too

did you
laugh too.
it can be
replaced.
porcelain plastic paper.
usually
it's anger,
order and
corrections.
that too can
be replaced.

right now

right now
I can continue
to write
this grocery
list or try
to reorder
the remains
of this
day.
at dawn
we're all
still asleep,
but what
about
dusk?

metallic keys open seas

metallic keys
weigh me down.
another lock
another closed door.
keys to
a kingdom,
double bolted
secured and locked.
keys weigh
us down.
all these metallic
proprietor-ships,
sway
wooden rafts
to the
open seas.

starlike bloom

yesterday,
i decided
to write down
all my fears
on long strips
of notebook
paper.
hanging them on
each low branch
outside my door,
almond tree.
and waited
and waited
and waited
for rain.
an egyptian
pass over
that ink bleed
and marked me
starlike bloom

i once sat

i once sat
under
the bodhi tree,
contemplatively.
only to discover
I'd sat upon
a hill of utmost
importance.
marching
systematically
under me,
a colony
of
well versed
bellicose
dogmatic
ants.

simultaneously
from one of
autumn's final
breaths,
a
solitary
leaf
falls

manna falling
Himalayan peeks
lifting Ganges' marigolds
sink

Swaying
casually and
finally
gracing my
exposed
sole.

rollicking,
that fallen leaf
reminded me
kalighat home
calcutta, india

lonely mercury

that
pastel
warm breeze
cascades over
dainty
refined
beach grass
all the while
peacock hats
filigree,
flow gently
across
Burgundy st.
,poor worn
down wooden
floor.

somewhere
a glass of wine
spills
parading
across some
periodic table,
mercury

white will
get out
the red.

waters flow
air floats
solids solid
lonely mercury

fixed to move

congested thoughts
traffic jammed
fuming polluting
self directed and
auto-zoned, cemented.

endless ports
endless seas
taxing
waving, metallic graying.

kitty hawk.
patterns
of spatial
orbits, incandescent poofs.

rails turn
metal bends
people journey
into flux, grand central terminal 5:01

fixed addresses
broken homes.

A locust dowry

locust years
and
it's bleak
tapestry.
gaunt
desert
moon;
nakedly
highlights
edges.
even these
siphoned sands
desired more.
miraged me
a million
times; for
having a
conquering
desperate
thirst.
a locust dowry

silence eventually conquers all

silence eventually
conquers
all.
stillness will
fill this
room.
light
filters
through
unclean panes.
and that
window
to the
soul
needs these
things.

and there does

and there does
exist a map
without
lines,
only circles
continents
surrounded by
the deepest bluest
oceans
constantly lapping
upon every shoreline
guided by
pale moonbeam
reflected by
our only
begotten
sun

Ode to Oh greatest lamentations

Oh greatest lamentations
Oh dust covered heads
Oh mournings and pre dawns
veiled covered tears
calamities of those
ancient proportions
as tears roll down like
dead seas, parted waters
miraculous grave
diggers/robbers/raisers
cover to cover
bookended
because
in the end
the opposite of
tragedy is comedy

to go go

No more media
declared the keys
I'd like to be a typewriter

No more pictures
declared the phone
I'd like to be Kodachrome

No more streaming
declared the apps
I'd like to be the radio.

where do we go?
where did we go?
where are we going?

venerated past

triggered by her
venerated past.
hallowed be thy smell
a spirit
whirling twirling dwirling
filling everything's

and of those
other 4.
checked out
glossed over
tabloid fatigued

Drifting sidewalks
sideways
she invites
all to
the table
with that succulent
savory aroma

Perennial

gray newspapers
stand
rusty drained
Perennial.
yellow flickers
filtering; partially overcast

coniferous selves
rarely fall
skipping that cycle
of rebirth; a vibrant fall

lighting lifts the sky
electricity's soul
kinetically gracing
parched soils; harvest

At some point

At some point
everything
will have been
invented

In the beginning,
To be continued,
Appendix,
The end.


Sterile
blinding neon lights
Cascading on
that steely white
institutional flooring

dissecting a dream
deconstructing a miracle
faith
she stands
awkwardly
in that blue hospital gown

What could I

What could I
possibly create that's
higher than
the mountains
wider than
the canyons
longer than
the Nile
deeper than
the seas?

When will I learn
to just put down
the arrows;
it's all bullseye

What last longer
than distant galaxies,
soil, oxygen, or stones?

Is the greatest greatness
found within
palace
congressional
institutional
stadium            
sacred                     halls?

the greatest part of
a trip just might be
the planning      [pre-planning, pre-pre planning]

I still remember all
those ancient miracles
and know their
still happening
everywhere

To Go...

Primarily
Everything's primed
in color

I'll take yellow
With a side of violet
and a sprinkle of blue
                      To Go.....

A Bedouin skyline

Two silvered
shopping carts
collide
under a yellowed
Streetlight

depleted
Parking lot,
three a.m.

Endless curbs
guarding
a decrepit
numbered lot        [better write it down]

faded streetsigns
too tired to care  [readership, an all time low]

Space once
bustling, full.
Early Saturday mornings
commercials
Realized
                     
A modern vista
A Bedouin skyline

Thy river bending

Thy River bending
Running northerly
Eternally; knowingly

How many Pharaohs
knew their namelessly tired
pyramid master-builders; dustily


How many grand
composers
artists
Salvation makers
Educators
Celebrators
And makers
remember their first
step; admirably

Windows
Mirrors
Minerals
Reflect elements;
all the while
transparent
Dust particles
Flirt wherever
They roam;
gracing All....

thee greatest monument

The greatest monument
Lies
buried
Under the sea

And their greatest achievement
Advancement
Lies
Buried
There too.

despite all
progress
Progression
rust marches under
that churning sea

Despite all
accolades
commentaries
Anniversaries

The greatest monument
Only sinks further
Into that
murky pale
Sky of the sea

**a 4th graders rendition of ozymandias

mission driven/driver

Drifting mission
Petrified wood
glancing chartered shorelines

'that horizon has never looked
so flat'

it's the law:
Shut your engine off ; if idling
do you ride or drive
within shiny burgundy dreams?

before the alarm
before the media
before the ride
before the currents
there's a moment we all share
That is what we must all
reclaim

My first attempt at The 80s pop rock anthem

Ahhhh...These streets, are ours tonight
Eddie money's clarion call, oh...
And That sax, comin through......
In perfect....stereooooo

These Moonlight beams tonight
they grip my wheel so tight
As we're Racing down Main tonight.....
And praying, .....just to get it right

^I never asked...these streets for much
But I never dance...without a touch
I can feel that heat tonight..that's right...


**Good evening, and much obliged.
Baby I gotta holdddd you tight.....
Oh yeah...hold ya tonight......in stereo....

..........cuz.
It's you and me like 
.............songs On The Radio.....**

Don't you dare hit them brakes
...we just might stay up that late..
That sun its gonna rise, no mystery
but you and me, well that's perfect chemistry

^^...Ohhhh baby Can't you see
It's so simple to me
Sometimes things are
Just made to be...


^that distant sound, it can be found
you Looking up, I'm looking down.
Like 45s..........Hey-that's alright, were going
Round and round and round...

**

My pillow rests upon your eyes
Perfect chemistry it's no surprise.
I swear to god that when you wake
my heart is what you have to take...3,4.....

^^

**

altar ego..

I thought
I followed
that altar call

Down forbidden cracks
Where thee dirty soil
Remains fertile

              [whisper of wings
               spreading.
               luminous
               horizon]

Down delinquent boulevards
appetites circulate
directionless breeze

Down desolate fields
labor toils
repetitively broke

Glancing over
Up under
that pale azure
Feverish sky

Welcomed
by shade,
unceasing
wings

I
Know
Why
The
Bird cage
Stays

don't yell fire

Don't
Yell fire!!!

While
Soaking
their
Soil
in holi
turmoil


Igniting
An eternal
match.            [1 or 0; for or against]


Don't
Yell fire!!

While Stoking
Their
pyre
With Holi
Hegemony

Lighting eternally
Sacred words.        [My Word versus Yours]


Don't yell
Fire!!

With a
Ragingly
Hot
Tongue      

Burning every
Syllable                [call the fire dept.of the soul]


Unsplinter
Thy vision

Disarm
Thy
Arms

Silent letters

Boxed up.
Those letters and
epistles.
Loss of words.

And those
Neon Revelations.
Reveling, revealing
Near words.

And those
nods
Murmurs
and collecting
plates
No words.

not on the winning team

not on
the winning team

Have you
ever seen
the eyes
of a decimated dream?

not on
the winning team.

have you
ever seen the eyes
a desperate pregnant teen?

not on
the winning team

or

-entire villages burnt to the ground
-factory floors now without a sound

-classrooms where nobody learns
-the poor bent over while the elite take turns

or

-minimum wage so down on its luck
-sweat shop laborers worse than stuck

-votes that never seem to add up
-public transportation seems always to be stuck

not on the winning team

A glare off

A glare off
That window pane
Fracturing
Light's long laborious travels

That smell of black
tar
rising
steam

Light / Heat
concrete as
ocean blue seas and
sky

Words shaken and
piled upon that old
oak table

Thoughts pressed
Upon us all;
gravity

expressing
elements
within
A/An/The
sphere

on that
8th grade
periodic table

deep roots in a Delta cotton field

Deep black Roots in a white cotton field


Context
Yields a
Higher
return

Pupils
Hidden
Behind
Colored
glass

Pin the tail
To
the
Timeline

It's where/
What
You'll stand
for

Silence
seeks
The
commonly ordinary,
Hustling
Over that
Jagged
crest

It's
Outside
the nave
Where The
Light
Shines brightest

Do hearts
Have holes
Larger than
The roof?

Lower down
Your humanity
And
Mat your heart
to
thee frame

Rafters resist
As
Heat rises
Holly springs,
mississippi
            [ida b wells]

and the deep blue sea

I want
To be
An ocean liner

But
lonely
out at
sea

I paddle my
Oars
Endlessly

The Architecture of my wobbly words

Metaphor   metaphor
Bad   good
Simile   simile
Standard  satisfactory

Repeat

Cliche
Irony
Pun

Repeat

Play on words
Alliteration

Repeat

Adolescent phrase
Obvious remarks
Predictable

Repeat

'Write it
All Down
then
Question
All of it'

Carehealth

I went to
The best hospital
To be
treated
By the worst
Physician.      [have ya seen that episode]

Waiting wounds
Cess pools
Sterilized rooms
Why all those shades of blue,
Ash trays and triaged carry outs

Mercantile

I've already
adorned
Those monuments

And walked
Those long
Footprints

And it still feels
All
The same
?

same vendors
Hawking
The same
Counterfeit
Merchandise

Spit
Dust
Storms

And Here
we are
still
Shopping
      around

Fog and disposition

It's
That fog
Of discontent
Hovering
And
Covering
             Light

It's
The mildew
Of the
Critic
That dampens
        Everything


That soul-saving
gospel choir
beckons a
call and
Response,

I just might
fall
Into your
Melodious
Song...

Sometimes
It's only
Made
Me sadder

I've leaned
Into yellow
Despite
The
Gray

once or twice

I know
What's best

For I was
A:

Baby once
Student once
Teacher once
Newlywed once
Contributor once
Patient once
Lover once
Friend once
Learner once
Partitioner once
Rebel once
Critic once
Observer once
Commuter once
Performer once
Tamer once
Displayer once
Artist once
Comic once
Customer once
Seller once
Sinner once
Saint once
Believer twice

Sideline/headline

It springs
from those
Traditional
folklores,
Familial
narratives,
and Structural
flows

couching individuals
Into cozy          {sunburnt beach chairs}
categories,
orbits

Branding the
Herds, sizzle...

Yeah, yeah, yeah
We know:
Sociology 101

,political parties,
Religions, nationalities,
Class, race, neighborhoods
,etc

drawing
Arbitrary lines
Of demarcations

people
line up
Sign up
And follow  

Lapping it
up and
Down.        [popsicle or poodle]

Prophetic leaders
occasionally
    Come along.......

And get
Entangled in
Their scaffolding

pleading individuals
To wake up
To live
from
within*          *(tragically cliche, I know)

Live with
Gumption
Divinity
Authenticity

Usually the
opposite
Of what
strictures
From
Upper-
management
Preaches

cause 'it
Just doesn't
sell well.'         [Plastic roses]

Our fundamental impulses
Should always be
For things
And
not Against.
 [a lazy man's logic always starts: against]

But we've been
Trained to cheer
loudest
from their
overpriced
nose-bleed
sections

That collectively
fearful
Impulse
to be
against
all Things
different,
Plays into our
susceptible beings

However,
we're born
to be
awake:
Serving Servants
Genuinely

There must come a
Time when
every Person
has to wrestle
With this;
                   a Jacobs ladder

Unless.....
Slumber settles
us
into a:
                 Hiber-Nation

Not
Conscribed
But
to be
scripted           {with an I-pen}

And to
Nakedly
stand and ask:            Am I awake?

shaking
Into our
awareness
just might
be
heaven
on earth

This awareness
Breaks down
all
temple walls

Seamlessly Becoming
A
Public display of
worship

There will always be
Steely, metallic
Megaphones
That broadcast and
Snare
their messages:

of compromise
Obedience
Intolerance
Justification
Domination

But there's that spirit
A holy of holies-
That ghost
whose
Greater
mightier
Meeker
Lovelier
Gentler
Kinder
          ..........That soars above all

*written from a young adults perspective*
-stay golden.....

Bull and serpent

When I was
20
i wanted
To change
The world/a bull

Now,
At 40
The world
so subtly
Wants
To change
me/a serpent

Fertile
boomerang

30s  or
Our 50s...
Or some other Era:     {silent cinema}
             to reinvent
             be born again...

and silently
it
begins
with
that
small
fever

that sprawling white canvas in that dry open field, mid July

And this just
might
Make all
The difference

Infinite
Baptisms

this side

But

I'm on

this side

Of the

rope

cliff

chasm 

My toes 

consciously

Touching

The 

Opposite shore 

Of your

Waves

Aways

Leaning...

In

Over

Forward

?

Frankly...

I'll justify my move,

Far

Away

From

your

______________, __________, _____________, 

__________

My tooth

My tooth
Does
Not
Ache
today

Today
There
Is no
Ache

Aching
Nimbus


Today
There
Is no
Rain

Morning
Dew
Does
Not
Rain
Today

Bitter

Bitters
water
body
Alchemy


Bitters
Fire
soul
Angry

I know what you'll say

I know what you'll say,
It's OK

I've trained for
this.

I don't know what you'll say
And it's OK

I've practiced
For this too.

These moments
Aren't unique.

C'est tres normale.   [random French insertion]

*We Interrupt this program
Count to 10

A.M. Baby blues

Drink all night
Sleep till noon

This ain't no saloon
Your In our room

Baby

Cry all night
And wanna fight

Don't paint the town red
Your in our bed

Baby

Feeding frenzies
Last all night

This ain't no diner
Lil half pint

Baby

Vultures

Critics'
Standards are
themselves

Trained
In degrees

Surrounded
In tweed

Lower that drawbridge
And let
Mother
nature
in

Tap tap tap

Murmur Murmur
Murmur Murmur

Hum
Hum hum

Engines run
Motors spun
Diesel lungs

Pit stop
Last stop

Promotional splash
Receding shorelines
Sunburnt cash

All added up
All padded down
All around

Edges
Corners
Straightaways

Reel to reel
Tap, tap tap
The film slaps against
That cold steel
metallic
Projector

End of show
The show never ends
While The train bends

Legacy

Legacies
Trophies


It's for the museums of
The drive-thru Windows

It's for the Greyhound stations
Of Diplomatic dysentery

And The big macs of haute
Nordic reindeery cuisine

The megapolis discount malls'
Food court trays and disposable forks

Coupons, check out lines, weight loss plans, glossy celebrity news, eye glass repair kits

Microwaved life
Hurried to be
Hurried

Last train out
Of metro west,
But your headed east

All the time
Parking lots filled
With concrete curbs,
Guardrail me from west
cosmopolitan Sludge

It's the next best thing
It's sliced American cheese
Wrapped around the telephone pole

It's for the foam stained
Microphone
Of pop culture

It's the neighborhoods
that have
No voice
No contract, no monthly plan,

Simply pay as you
Go

Brought to you by...

I can't read your lips:
Talking head
Punch-lined host
Remote controlled

I can't read your texts:
Profiled
Networked
Obligatory

I can't watch your news:
Over Stimulated
Over informed
Over sponsored

I can't sit alone:
Billboard
Beeps
Broadcast

Aglow indigo

Maybe it's your
Psychology?
Chemistry?

Remember,
It's not
me

Spirit transcends
Flesh transcripts
'It is written',
              But where?


An angry glow
And
A Cooling indigo

If

If
Renting
Is
the
new
Existing

meanwhile,
rust
Silently
Slips over
hexagon
screws

These chained
parking lots
              Cheapened everything


Alimony to a
Rent-a-center,
Pensioners of the
super sized
and Entertainment centers

Oh ye,
Lazy boys
And Girls


The economics of a
Fast Cash center
The splinters of a Particle board
The coach shorts of pleather luxuries

Then, is there buyers remorse
When it's all
rented?

What proceeds chance?

If you'd
taken
a left

And I'd
taken
a right

Chances
are....
pretty
objectively
lucky?

What events
Aren't Predicated
On the heels
Of a million
'Only
ifs'....


Car crash.

If only
You'd
Walked

Town

I went
To
Town
To
Find
Some             clues


I asked
The baker
he said yeast

I asked
The constable
he said peace

I watched
A fisher
while he caught
a shoe

I watched
A dreamer
while he caught
the flu

I heard
A stranger
Tell a lie

I heard
A preacher
Tell the sky

'All this physics
Will embrace,
Clap real loud
Fall into place'

Waving particles
Particles that wave

Much expected

Oh, Where
do you
go
Mr. fly

In this hallowing
wind
rain

Casually
                  I
open up
the screen
and out
you fly

Is there
freedom
in your
wings?

the good book
says, 'to whom
Much is given
Much is expected'

What did you
Expect??

In that wind
And that rain?


And you just
Might ask me:

What did you expect:

opening
that
screen
in
the
middle of
this
hallowing
rain?

Some-thing

My refuse
Refused
The commode
This morn

Mourn,
Forlorn,
A Storm

Perfect thy
posturing

Vacuuming
The crumbs
No more

Circum-
Stance
Dance

All this
Debri
Added up
To be
some_______

Drive/r

When they
Call you
Genius,
Goes it go to your head?

When they
Call you
Imbecile
Goes it go to your heart?

Smiles
Disguised?
Hugs
Disingenuous?

Ideas run over
A thousand times

That Must
be a
Busy road

Between
Your
Head
And
Your
Heart

Detour

Waving not......

Waves
Grace me

Waves
Embrace me

Teach me
To ride

Curl
crash
snare,
Undertow

falling walls

Bound by
what...
I've seen?
I've heard?
I've thought?

Bound by
who...
A throne?
A pulpit?
A network?

Bound by
where...
Culture?
Customs?
Causality?

All walls fall
Walls all fall

Silence is the music

Not so sure
This time

Tears;
Does each eye
agree?

Is this
Sympathy?


Metaphors
Have run
Dry

Radio died long
Ago
That songs still
Spinning

I tried to
Give you
A
Name

Rushing
To fill
In the
Blanks

Silence is
The
Music

swaying

A thousand
And one crashes
All
At once

Or
One
By
one

How do
You
Prefer
Tragedy
?

Gravity
Pulled you
From the
Womb

Winds
Will howl
And
Toll
For
Thee

Symmetry
Symphony

The horizon licks both ends
With a jubilant
Smile

route

every night,
returning
Home

you've just
forgotten

day in
and
day out

same street lights
same attire
same posture

You,

prodigal
child.

bargainings

'Says who?'

Referenced
alluded and referred

Pointing backwards
a million and one
footnotes

100% guaranteed
No substitutes
No returns

One way
No turn around
No road blocks

sure fire
firewall
foolproof

going once
going twice
going
around
and
round

Axis
and/or
allies

Cyclops

If you
expected
                    perfection
out of me,

You'd
gravely be
                   displeased


If i
expected
                    perfection

out of you
but,
                    that's what i do

hold

,baby;gently

uncertainty;quickly

alarmingly still.


beyond reach.
bearing
open arms

Here:
invitation
to the present.
hold

Cloth of life

cloth of life
so new
and
so clean

and look at us here
so        
                 threadbare

the spent and
the new    can
weave        such
spectacular
tapestries

****

There once was
a young new prince
who refused to wear any of his new clothes.
He thought, "if I unwrap this lovely new attire they
will only wear out, and cease to be new."

"But these clothes are of the finest and
a gift fashioned just for you," stated the wise old King.
"Intended to wear, and experience all your seasons."


A gift
royally decreed
to be lived in
and
simply just to
be


The prince starkly declined
under lock and key
and sadly
no woven tapestry
[and the King silently passed away]

****

Constricted orbiting

Orbiting
.'yes, this is your calculated career & your your  right!'
.....tethered;    well, "career on!"...& win!!!..

Angling
....still circumferenced; encircled/ wooden wagons
.thee edges shall scrape like bars [penitentiary]

Juxtaposition
....discounted partiality; smirkily afforded
calculated white picket fence-chicken shit

Pretender
...Mr. or Mrs. Word Custodian, check your cloudy filters
.....another justified believer; safely saved; safe; safety

Impropriety
that fancy context will eventually run out of yarn;
however, even the horizon can't hold the light's ray

more compost'n.....

What do you wear while you sleep?

What do you wear in your dreams?

Where is the fissure in your sidewalk?

What do you think about your dreams?

What are your thoughts as you dream?

Is there green grass?

Bathing’s temporary,

And poor Mr. Giraffe how long is your waking day?

Winter yearns for spring

Summer yearns for nothing; contently/yellowy aglow

How did an orphan get the right to name all of those things??....





Another shovel/Havel full:

faith is a line

cast overboard

so much turbulent consternation

this sea never rests

unfathomable depths;

a deep and peaceful joy

And a lil more manure

your mouths a graveyard before you speak

entombed with bitterness

embalmed with agony

words are veterans

fleeing as refugees

from the Hiroshima

of your tongue

and your opaque window-frame

with a permanently  

closed for renovations

sign

hung across that broken heart 

Mental composting....grab a shovel/Havel

Mental composting......

Improvising is so, so hard to do.
As a child, it was the name of the game. And I just can’t figure it out.
Is there now just too much control, too little time, or larger and larger defeats to a smaller and smaller Id.

Idealism got rear-ended by reality and now walks with a dreadful limp.

Consequences were once less of a prime factor and now we count in prime numbers [ode to a minivan]

Calculations riot my decisions that once used to be made in absentee.

Things that used to be bold and underlined are now lowercase and italicized.

It takes more volition to say nO than yeS in this new World Wide Web……in this new wild wild west…in this new world wild web…..[airplane mode is redeeming me]

Artifacts retire, air controlled, behind clear glass in some asymmetric museum; relics constructed and assigned to a greater value.       

                                   

Where do ideas go to retire? {No, the library is more a hovel for unaffordable housing}     

   

Is there even a shelf life on ideas? [expired; flotsam] [can canned ideas sit on the shelf too?]

[and those sprightly wise ideas that will always propel into forever tomorrows, where are they?? a museum on an academic campus? somekindof personalized mental museum with a great loaner program??]

Maybe those elderly ideas go on bed rest? Or prison? Or on a locked hallway on the top floor of some hospital? 

And better yet, who are the curators?

love's ANTI-zero sum game

only
between
Divinity
and Me
sits squarely
Idolatry

call it by its surname:

self promotion

no room
in the inn
no vacancy
full of
ourselves

anything
less than
love
of another
or
creator

will
gather
dust
on our
shelves
   forever

renew me


like
the
morning
dew
off


Mt. Ararat
Mt Kailash
Mt. Moriah
Jabal Al-Nour
Mt. Zion
Mt. Everest
a Temple Mount
Mt. Fuji
a Garden in Eden
Mt. Olympus
a Bodhi tree

walking muted through these city streets; space

look up..look down

look at phone…glance around

back to phone

..normal pace

..…...act cool, rouge, hip, scowl….

from

different tracks,shoes,continents but

look accessible.....edgyly accessible

look smart…..interested

caring…..look caring……

smile…..look away…..

..pace yourself……all this space….

look down…look away…..

look at phone, check time, check weather,

check time, check calendar, check social umbilical cord…….

[space these out sparingly]

look around

…..nod, smirk, understanding……..

judge, indignant

indifferent, back to judging…….

crack, puddle, gum

grim

………..look overhead/s, look under sky

look down at your cellular phone

looking down at your cell phone

looked down at your phone

will be looking down at your smart phone

will have been looking down at your mobile

÷ & +

concrete,

a slant of light

dividing these [no adjective]

streets

arteries,

a single drop

always parting

earth

hues,

off on a horizon

partitioning a

color wheel

>

> 

‘I didn’t know that was there the whole time,’

exclaimed the

fleeting

exasperated

red and white

flashlight.

the doldrums and duties

shifting  

that cheap

plastic

on/off

switch.

              [the mountains, the air, the trees, the seas grow darker 

                                                                           and larger]

everything so confined

projected

              [peering through white linens rolling on the line]

Click:

*a-lightbulb*

> 

‘I didn’t know that was there the whole time,’

exclaimed the

spent

prostrate

black and white

match.

constantly

contending

the

4

elements.

                    [sisyphus scaling the tail of the dragon]

everything’s a struggle

tuggingly

                   [gotta take the stairs; elevators broken]

Click:

*A-lighter*

> 

‘I didn’t know that was there the whole time,’

exclaimed the

depleted and

stark

classroom.

all this

matter

subjugated

to these

barren

4

walls.

                   [that black & white analog clock]

Dissonantly

Distracted

                   [the dove through these glasses 

                    through that window looks, free]

Click:

*ubiquitary*

> 

....a cobblestone journey with friction-less heels; wobbly at best (a foot/feet note)

This is the tale of:

Too many hats.

‘My neck is killing me’,

mumbled Everyman….

Balance must be

 his perfect chemistry

of

just too many hats.

Everyman swayed

down the jilted lane.

Higher than the flower beds

on the second floor,

all these hats jumbled and soared.

Swaying left and then right

all but preoccupies both day and night.

I know just what your thinking,

‘Just how does he sleep,

Or bathe,

Or get through the door?’

All those details a tale can ignore…..

It seems rather harsh

the weight and the scale

-if only

Everyman knew this same tale….

He’d stop this

dizzying
high-wire act

Indeed.

Stop acting these roles

and

just plain 

and

simply

be.

Just before eight,

while the streetlights a glowed

Everyman awakened

and ended his

show

He shook from his core to

the heels of his feet

and off flew 40 plus hats,

right there on the street.

Everyman sauntered

with a sigh of relief.

hey remember when?

Hey,

remember when..........?

When I remember….....

a

memory
             negative?............or

a                           positive?  or   a   false   positive?.......


i-witness; by-standard/s

Tales   

change,   grow,   yawn

(cat poster.....)

Recall memories

Total memories, recall.

All the tenses:

A tri-nity

space needle………….yippee!!

How much space on the head of a needle?

…………………………..Actually, sorry;

i misfired a memory….

There be but 2:

past and present

may I

override that last…….-yawn…..

OK, well…………………

.......................meow…..

Two horns raging

equally posed    !  ! 

Matador…………….

Yo 

Mat or door??......

No.

Future..??

                                              

                                                There-! That ring

hung

in her nostril…

oscillating from each breath,

Swaying past present to past

to present to past…………..

Tenses/time/

Sequences/preference

Don’t sneeze into a microscope…

Do bifocals work on a telescope?

The dandelion doesn’t ask which way the wind's gonna blow??...       or does she.............?....

the musings of an April fool

4/1/16: the musings of an April fool

While watching the premier of CNN’s Eighties series last night, I started thinking about how generations, like cycles, are merely reactions from the previous generation/or actions. That whole cause and effect theory….snow to snowball to avalanche to placid lake to clouds to rain to snow....

There’s a trance one enters when glaring into the glass tube of a washing machine at the local laundry mat. That continually spinning and constant swirling and dizzy twirling around and around and around, hypnotically. That cycle. It’s taking that perfect immovable sphere of the Tao and spinning it like Pat Sajak, whirling forever forward from a forever forward first mover.

A Hail Mary is what it can seem like for us practitioners down here on planet earth. Trying to connect our mortal flesh to our immortal soul; connecting with the Divine-from us here; on the vine. Do our word-chained prayers photosynthesize into a lightness of being? Are we in the end zone? On the field? Still in the game? Touching down…..

Sometimes when relieving myself on the toilet I’m tempted to sit down on the plastic transparent waste basket next to me and just for once-Allow myself to express things in a completely different manner; I think about this a lot; changing our routines. Just let it go-right there in the waste basket; however it pleases to fall…..what’s been holding me back all this time?...

Be it a click, a tap or a swoosh-every few seconds, the changing of our screens to newer content, newest images, the next site, newer breaking news-too much stimuli.......(as you stare at this blog, ha....I'm that whitewashed tomb) The disappearance of Adulthood. 

Our eyes flicker like a Clockwork Orange, pinned down and forced a constantly changing stimuli. 

Concentration and focusing are those by-gone highways filled with their decrepit diners and vacant motor lodges; it’s the superhighway for now, their with bright,shiny neon billboards...and aint no time to spare.

Can I just say that instead of the news always having to be breaking on our screens, and always flashing in emergency red letters; let’s call it broken news. ‘It done broke a long time ago’.

The older I get the more I think about the weather. What do the elderly in the Sahara think about?

If the rich dream of a convertible red sports car for midlife crisis, what do the poor dream? Or the working class?...