Eleven Seconds

Don’t install me in an ambient
I want kaleidoscope
Forgive me in an understanding
That I’m yet to come upon
This could have been my memory
Shaken from the slope
Dropping little apple
Fallen from the tree
Whisper late night
And be me and both again
For beginning with the smallest cloth
I woke up
And eleven seconds.

Cold Fusion of the Mind

Cold fusion plugging my artery
Making its way into my brain
Locked in embrace
With two swines for dinner
Make me a salad if you please.

And a winedrop
Caressing the glass window
Spilled over with a passionate moment
Left a gray cloud
Hovering closely
To the carved portrait on the wall
With graceful messages
In times of need
To all those who took to listen.

And I never left the door open
To invite all the neighbours
Though they took all the mail
And ate the fridge dry
I wore my best suits
And tied my own tie.

Who listened when the podcasts were turned on?
Will the beet juice stain
Each keyboard with fury
Slowly running down the lips
Of the sweetheart
With eyes of translocation
Heavy on my mind.

Take

Take what you want
Need nothing more
For remembering
For singing song

There was no audience
No standing pride
Call of the monkey
Song of coyote

When the willow
Grows over your head
Look to the weather
Summer’s soon over

Find me in
The falling weather
Temperature dropping
Frost is coming

Always remember
Take what you want
Nothing worth calling
This singing song

Fighting For A Softer Edge

If you give me a softer edge
I will believe in your touch
For in the grasp
Of a summer day
I remember all these dreams
And I can hear the buzz
Of the honey bee
Singing in my ear.

But if the edge continues to hone
I’ll find my sharpness cutting knots
Deep within my root stricken back
Holding me to gnarly strength.

I am the fire
Should I be struck
For I awake within my heart,

I am the dirt
That crumbles with
A slipping fist no longer clenched
No longer fighting back.

Breathing Grand

It has been hard to admit
That my words have lost meaning.
Even the breath
That inhales to explain
Where my full self has departed to
Has lost its strength;
Faintly attached
With two softly drawn cords
Like a spider web
In early morning dew
(Too delicate and lost
To be trecherous and hard),
Whispers inside myself
Have fallen down.
This weakness has touched my message
– Ice crumbling at the brink of water –
So much so that my eyes
Are no longer opening
With meaning and fury
For they have bid me adieu
While rainwater is expected
To stain this grand scheme.

Collected Page (day 3220)

My page is not full
The lateral movement
Convulsing into jagged lurches
As inspiration
Tangles its heavy hand
On each seam it finds to bend.
So this wind will blow
Until fresh songs
Dance around tempting,
Gravity and reason
Forcing their hearts
Into a dance
That my mind will swing
And remember
A collection can be so empty.