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