Teach me the moment of that.
The moment we collided
In an orchestral orgasm,
Ecstasy of fragrants and essences…
And soft music blowing
Leaves in a swirl about our thoughts
That hang like spring rainclouds.
Teach me the moment of that.
Where I walk on the balls of my feet
Through soft summer warmed sand.
Seagulls walking quietly, lazily,
Hand in hand with sunglasses and oversized hats
That smile at most all things,
And run home to.
This is a love poem to my own self,
All hairy and indulgent and breathing rapidly.
Because from the tips of my toes
To wisps upon the back of my neck
From the shape of my beak
To the curvature of my idle fingers
I am in love.
Constant thoughts that flutter through
Idle spaces of my mind
Keep my constantly occupied
With being me.
I love that it’s a gear
– Never ending clockwork –
Cycling through unidentifiable patterns
Undeniably grand
Our late night plans are always the finest
Delicacies like chocolate, popcorn,
And maybe even corn nuts
Fill up my dreams, the happy times
Times I spend my other time
Working towards expanding
Stretching it out so that even
Crunching noises become ecstasy
So my love, my true romance
It is my utter pleasure
To be yours forever.
Your breath is my breath,
Your thought is my care,
Your bend is my fold,
You are me, forever one.
There is nothing that I can do
To change the minds of stubborn fools
Even if I were to try
My wiles on their brute for a while
I’d find my thoughts stuck between
Their fist, my faith, all compiled
And to which end that I seek
Should make it dangerous, us to speak
I seek not, which not begs of me
But which the stubborn fool’s to gain
The day that I died
I rose to heights I’d never imagined
I screamed at the clouds
For breaking my ascent
And snarled at the trees
For leaving me behind
The day that I died
I put two left socks on my right foot
I wore my pants a little bit low
To scare old folks
And throw out literal puns
Like the madman I was
The day that I died
I gave mother the biggest hug she’d ever had
She felt within her own arms
The rise and fall of my own heart
She cried great tears that washed away villages
And carved out the mighty Fraser
The day that I died
My heart went to Tibet
Where it sat upon a flagpole
And could do no harm
In times of need, it was unbounded luck
To those who wished upon it
The day that I died
Not a piece of green grass died
Lush was the planet
As the stars made way for me
To call into eternity
That which cannot be given a name
The day that I died
Reverie floated about
Where we lost moments that chided
Our deep complexion of humanity
And all about the silent house
Peace was found existing
Letters budge my soul
They dig deep
They remind me of a moon lit sky
Shining down on my half inebriated eyes
A little goblin that wrestles with trees
Dark and settling in
Just holding form until scripts are written
Letters make me remember
Not just my latest flirtations
But memories of my soul’s soul
That existed when plastic didn’t fill
Empty holes mines didn’t dig
Long ago, filtered through memories
So remember
As letters float on by my closed eyelids
As fat cats dodge rat traps
That morph their edges into lost doorways
It’s not just whispers that shift unfiltered frequencies
It’s corpses and serifs, un-written and un-scripted
Un-animated in a midnights grace
That pull my toes tight in a grip of pure delight
Could you hold my hand
Unzip the past;
Let the edges break off, away.
Could we lift the moon
– High up above –
To share it’s calming embrace.
Could our souls entwine
Wildly mixed with time
To the edges of our daemon
Listen…
Commas chase the apostrophes
Through long grass
And stars
And seagulls waking me
In embraced
Goodmornings
To lull my lines
Into happy sentences
To glimpse
With ears wide open
Into four digits
Blinking
Silently
My eyes roll sideways
Like the criss-crossing trademarks
Scraping the residual, back and forth
Back and forth, while I,
Lounging through my toxic caffeine
Rattling at 128 beats per minute
One houndred and seven miles per hour
Kiss the seawall goodbye
And plow my way forth
Into the great North
Lines worn into my curled hands
Write stories about these barren lands
Cris-crossing my page
With dried, sweet smelling sage
Listening to fading sounds of the band
We smiled and held hands
Walking through the rain
With a dollar store umbrella
Bending backwards at the knees
But that’s ok
Because we’ve got our Vancouver
Take away coffee mugs
Gripping tightly to the warm feeling
That’s slowly enveloping
This Saturday morning
Satisfaction