I was a ghost
I was a ghost in your house we hummed about nectar and searched for all the flowers what once were blooming all around now became but a thorny track that ran up all the walls I was a ghost in your house forever haunting the trim like rusty locomotives and crash-landing 747’s into piles of rose-bush-thickets beautiful and asphyxiating. I was a ghost, wishing breathlessly, hoping...
between your lies, dude
read between the lines lover sister brother to find the hidden razor it was there because i didn’t want to hurt you i put it there to cut you i’m just trying to help you with my harshness can’t you read?
In the dark, a clang shuttered across deaf eyes as light bore out of enigma. Generations in the shadow elevated moonlight into brilliance unconscionable: a blight cast over the homeland that was this underworld called Yot. The warmth of weird touched gently the skin of these creatures in Yot. Each of them with skin keen to each-other’s homeostatic kinship felt the otherworldly warmth of...
the gift you’ve given to me this winter could have never been so sweet and bitter if it hadn’t come this winter when our hearts we smote bitten by moths our woolen leaks our warmth but you are kind— kind enough—to prescribe some of saint johns wart for the wind and cold we coxe from this, our hearts, freezing bitter and sweet this winter: such a gift:...
o little bird i love you
that sound sprung seemingly from the beating bucolic that blubbers blusteringly. thrilling trill agitating audibly ambient, ardently, o auspiciously, o in service to a steady drum, i love you, your feathery hands. i love you, your magnanimous heart! i never saw you, but i like to believe you saw me, and reading from a heartbeat sang: ‘i love you, i love you! o do remember,...
Once I read a flower bloom Pacing small and lightning rooms grounded— Space over swelling petals burn the animated emptiness I extend myself into the words and like a moth fly from the light is empty darkness. Love was a knee let backward in braces. For once I read a flower budding for long brontide realized burning pain— hallow in the sound of eminent din the animated...
The Feeling of Weightlessness
Blue-awareness ever-present secret hung leaflet bowl filled so sure and lame and lame- tongued to bondage denote boundlessness.
Get out with love And please do return If you feel you have to Just please do return Get out with your profound WOWness haloed golden lamb Get out without your parts of me All sold to keep the land About my fortress wide and tall Stay out and love my soil Get out and cultivate cool dry smooth grass and cabbages and flowers Get out and roll down my hills Get out and bathe in my...
For Ashes and Leaves
Over the lines distinguishing hope and fear, An enormous oak always burns. The leaves ember, red ash flies, and All ways calm. Forever: the oak burns alive over all hope and fear.
I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life. IALH HAIL LHAI ILHA PRITHUM MPRITHU UMPRITH HUMPRIT THUMPRI ITHUMPR RITHUMP KUNDALINI IKUNDALIN NIKUNDALI INIKUNDAL LINIKUNDA ALINIKUND DALINIKUN NDALINIKU UNDALINIK Thank you, Shakti. S A R A B B S A R A A B S A R R A B S A A R A B S I A L H H I A L L H I A A L H I A D I I A D D I A I love my strengths and...
Law, v. v.,
Live up to it already: the word means will; the world means do the word.—Sol ar’ Ays begat water, here. Here is the water: the water means love!
I don't know; I'll take the break
Yellow-dead foliage litters winter. notes From GOD left in the bitter notes From GOD: home elapsed into the temple. Old PAPER in the snow; Can I transcribe? Old PAPER in the home; Could I recollect? Can we still be NOW?—Where? Thither I flow through sepia stones. An’on. An’on. And yes.
Aloha, Eloha (an Aubade)
Two drops of pleasure into dawn-sigh open eyes—yes. Black drops into the eyes reflect our amazing— warm-soft, smooth comfort-expression— understanding that love only is, was and shall be—YES. In two drops, quicksilver, the world bursts alive. Light streaming river splashes around our feet— Four drops of gold— Yes!
v886centauri asked: i love your poetry!!
CC, or Lililoly
Light, life, love and liberty through and through endless epiphany on and on soar synchronicity testament to timeless serendipity
Epiphany like this like the word Aoi Blue sky Green grass or growing turnips Don’t pluck me yet, I’m only just beginning to form oh light over me washing out the past pulling in home, home home. Epiphany like bluegrass music to the ashen moth rediscovering the flame Home
To Sink And You
The butter-melting love laps lilac/ lily lemon-rosy hips. Never, ever- ever, festers like an ashen wart, no. In our hearts, Now, only: lone, untied writhing; yellow-yearning rebirth; dashing chains under all-rusting earth; shaking hearth stones again free; brushing away dust; unfurling those newly-old tapestries; and soul mapping magic memories in a darkened, not-so-distant past. These...
the wet finger
All the grains fell though my fingers. I watched so slowly as they fell. I cried so slowly that I just couldn’t hurt; the falling seed grew so slowly that it just couldn’t sprout. I fell so slowly through your fingers; I can’t just watch you cry.
My life line has a closed circuit in the head of the nine diamonds, translucent roses on my head—break; I shall sing though the itching-ache in the blue current between my knowledge and your wisdom: between the stones; between the oceans; betwixt the necropolis of indulgence and the seventh house of heaven. In your innermost heart there is Oxygen and Fire, Light and Color,...
where's my heart or On the growning maturity of...
How did I find it? I swear I saw it over there under the dust in the chest wrapped around your bountiful breasts How did I loose it? I swear I always keep it on me I thought it was in my jeans Maybe I left it in my teens? I hope I can find it in your throat on your lips beside your stomach beating in your round rippling ribcage It doesn’t appear anywhere, but maybe...
Essential I, that is, 1) the red box and it’s content, 2) the yellow box and it’s content, 3) the blue box and it’s content, 4) the green box and it’s content, shall hereafter be refered to as that black box formerly known as Me. I keep secrets from myself in the black box formerly known as Me. I keep desires in there too. And memories. And to-do lists. I...
Tobango, My Motto is the Motto of
In my head there’s this island on the sun where everything good goes to get eaten up by flames. It would be a very pleasant place: the breezes are cool, the water light and cerulean, sand/sun, bright… Clear. Then A big Cloud came and the rain was this black tar. Worrisome tar, Viciously worrisome, Relentless tar. In my head, there’s this island where the sun Is...
I thought I was a man, so I took my final breath and I forced myself to die. Two beasts like rusty locomotives lapped up my milk. I pissed. Home walked me though strange places, and though I was afraid. I felt secure, like a turtle, or a lemon on the table with little pore-like eyes that gaze at greedy fingers with knives. Persuasion’s not my strong suit. I have Nine...
Of late, the Social-Democratic philistine has once more been filled with...– Frederick Engels, Introduction to Marx’s The Civil War in France, March 18 (via fuckyeahmarxismleninism)