After a while the flies find you
Sinking into skin
Like love letters I’m waiting for.
I try my passive eye
With a lazy wind
Covering my imagination
While three ewes
Run circles,
Their heads down
Wishing for longer grass to hide in.
But my exhaustion
Just watches two blackflies
One on each wrist
Searching for that perfect place
To bite in
Just like the lover
I’m waiting to hear from.
My presence will outweight
My disregard here,
Just as the sun knows
It outweighs the wind
And there are no flies who care less.
Category: manly
My Suffering
I am not a descendant
Neither an ancestor
I walk only
Upon land un-owned
I hear voices
That I may not know
And recognize patterns
Inside my zone
That don’t jive
With my dreams and goals.
So then shall I be reborn?
Shall I find within me
The God I shall be?
Listening and believing
Actions and ideals
In perfect synchronicity?
My barefeet stumble,
My pattern outlayed.
But I still step softly
In spite the growing
Disillusionment
Bearing down upon my
Alighted brow
So that this God in me
Is the God that you see
And my suffering
Is not the God that shall be
In you.
Slave’s Still Fight
I am immense
And stuck
And broken in my battle;
Giants tearing trees
And Titans throwing boulders.
How do I convey my meanings
When I am unreasonable
Living inside a dream
Of everyone’s meaning well.
Does my habit become your habit?
Do I lose myself into you?
Does my soil sprout many plants?
Can I hope to grow with you?
For my beast of rage
Within my deep breaths
Is evermore, everclear,
And hoping for more tomorrow
For my heart fights back
My heart fights for freedom
In a change
That cannot grow faithfully
To the slave of a great wrong.
Alone, Within
I believed in you more as an Oracle
Tongue tied and misery
A vision of perfection
I could not attain alone.
What does it mean to be alone?
I have clouds that tell me history’s greatest moments,
And flowers that share with me great healing.
I have sheep that teach me what patience is,
And goats who are with my to play,
Dogs who speak as they are my best friends,
And cats who are my ancestors.
Alone is a construct
Just as freedom and atomic are.
Just as balance and beauty claim to be.
I am not alone if I keep my eyes open,
My heart open, my ears open.
I am not alone if I am welcoming
And I am not alone if I am one.
What does it mean to be alone
Within one’s self?
Did you find it in full Lotus,
Or Tadasana?
Don’t ask if you can sit with me
For you have sat down here long ago.
I believed in you more as an Oracle
Than a maiden who has lived clear through it all,
Answering all questions with wisdom
I’ve read in ancient books,
As if your born again Nirvana
Is leading me on your path to my own.
I’m unruly,
And this is my own.
I smear my own self along pages
Just long enough
To clear blot my way to
Unsensible un-reasoning,
So that all I need is an Oracle:
A busy sign post with one flashing light.
But all I’ve got is a schoolbus,
Flashing lights of warning,
Danger signals of distance,
Red signs to Stop,
And a safety seat with a seat belt
That doesnt bump too much
As wheels turn
And this bus driver
Takes me further within.
Rose Petals
This is not a trail of broken hearts;
Fallen crimson rose petals
Reminding me of each cycle
Lost and reborn
Sun and moon dance.
This is a ripening and maturing
A ferment and bottle conditioned
Led by the golden tears
Of Springs fresh showers.
A frosty morning
With birds calling from branches
Yet bearing,
And a sly cat whispering:
Good day Sir, come along.
Time Spells by Fragments
Time has begun to fragment:
Lost time, woven time
Shared time, alone time.
Time better spent,
And time well spent.
Time’s fingers tap
My beat
And scratch raw
Skin beneath my beard,
Transfixed upon
Scaling multiples
Woven as fabric
That erases
What was written
Upon Season’ blackboard.
Yet still,
No time spell has taken
My tomorrows
Nor my todays,
Just my dreams
– Idle as I may exist.
Time shifts
And I shift
Though no spell broken
Save that of waking
Amidst time’s fragmented
Importance
And I, lost
Spending my time well.
Not Spoken
I’m not spoken anymore
Dried in a bottom of dust
Let my soul sing
With fire sparks tonight
Can’t I get along alone
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.
Forget every song
I’ve written all wrong
Glory and frail,
Perfect and undone
Startling morning sun
My breath: heavy hung
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.
Empty this bucket
Lost in a sea
Between footsteps
Greeting me
And it’s dark
Close my eyes
To forget
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.
I’m Interested
I’m interested, like the moon is interested in a ruksack.
Take me home, take me there, I want to see where you were made. And I’ll bring my spare tire so I don’t get stuck along the way, because I know a Legend of Boulders that weigh the most upon the road.
But after twilight, after my omnipotent vision among Cassiopeia disperses with Sun’s warmth and glow, I’ll still be looking to the sky, watching for each bomb to blow, each shifting sliver of this silver moon as it orbits slight off of thirty one.
I’m interested. I want to hear the whistle, for without the whistle, I know not who treads there though I’ve heard the Legend told here.
Stoic Beast
I’m not the beast of a nothing place
I’m rich in earth
And stoic like pine of a thousand years.
I don’t look you in the eye,
I devour your hormone
And wax upon each death of your breath.
In death, I spy;
In wind, I vanish;
In grace I am all fingertips
Touching sensitive spots
That have found their way
Into my eyes of a blank canvas.
And this is not the answer in you,
It is only the place I once knew.
What Is Blessing?
What is blessing?
What is blossom?
What does hard work
Have to do
With my faith and trust?
How often does govern
Intervene with my magic,
Causing my inner blessing
To be lost in a sea of greed.
For my beacon
And my bacon
Do not get seared
Upon the same boiler.
I am a beacon
Like the sun;
Guiding by virtue,
Blazing in darkness,
Finding strength
Through built upon resistance,
Friction in consciousness,
And letting go
Until I no longer need to grasp.
Sitting here I hear policemen
Waving flags and shaming.
Sitting here I hear lawyers
Convincing me of wrongdoings.
Sitting here I hear government
Enacting laws of oppression.
Sitting here I hear,
And I see busy-ness
Building friction
To work itself into
Hellfire inferno.
From this darkness
Ignites foreverago,
A lost simplicity
Sitting in calm;
A bird singing,
A simple inclination,
Base necessities.
There is luxury in nothingness.
There is excess in freedom flow.
There is grand
In what we havent nurtured:
In an ancient Douglas fir,
In ripples of a frozen river,
In breath of wind,
In depth of a blossoming tulip.
There exists here
The base and carnal glow
Lifting thy vibrational flow.
What is blessing?
Did it come to you wrapped?
Did it accompany you from third to fourth gear?
Did it fly with you in a jet aeroplane?
Was it bought at Louis Vuitton?
Was it rolled up and smoked?
Was it intervened in a safety net,
An involuntary rule?
An orgasm of confusion?
What is blessing?