Inside broken
bamboo in the ocean or on the sand
no foundation
no location
are sense dissensions in the surrounding calls
down the subway
calls deafen my own ears, more than my ears
I have to look but there’s no direction at all
winds blow
the wheels flat
I laugh from the apogee anticipations
carry some return to a perfect fit
riding the slipstream to a sail slipstream to a sail
awaken dreams
rhythms, can’t wait to shake off my coat
beneath let my line
all the way out
from the holy land to the waters of love the waters of love
to see
the big fish
lest I eat in the garden where prayers began
the garden where prayers began
ghosts fall
my burdens fly
peel claim new layers in the thin air
trail and grow
another voice
gesturing with a tear
hindsight acceptance a new doorway
hindsight belief a new home to go between
upside down
inside out
a distance I cross
inside broken
too many answers in the summer’s heat wave river dream sand
and in the hiding of winter’s secret relies
up to the beginning of winter’s command
the corner of each quiet semantic night switch
all the way from cherry starts to rapture annihilation
last limit on final communion.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
a word in need of healing
A word in need of healing,
No messages this morning Rosemary,
A world at loss of all its’ secrets,
Over and between but couldn’t replace,
No places for the clowns, mimes and puppets,
No one notices the floor mirage,
No telling whose was worse
Neither earns,
Neither owns,
each other with ten times the darkness,
Spending time across the water,
On forbidden rooftops,
To breathe dust in the memory in my chest
Where the risk shapes the noises,
Money for nothing,
No money down under too much for nothing
Can’t touch another switch
Squirt and honk
Till three o’clock in the morning
No shade
All the wishes can’t find their way back
A word in need of healing
Not your temperature, colour, gravity, light, density,
But give it your best half eye dungeon dream
That can’t see the time passing anymore,
But the serpent knows
In the rain
Pigeons and doves,
Make the sound the same
My guitar gently disappears
But couldn’t get far enough
So many wishes
Couldn’t open the eye
But gives hope to the shape shifter
Who wonders why am I cursed
in this hunting ground
touching blood I swear
I didn’t belong
No messages this morning Rosemary,
A world at loss of all its’ secrets,
Over and between but couldn’t replace,
No places for the clowns, mimes and puppets,
No one notices the floor mirage,
No telling whose was worse
Neither earns,
Neither owns,
each other with ten times the darkness,
Spending time across the water,
On forbidden rooftops,
To breathe dust in the memory in my chest
Where the risk shapes the noises,
Money for nothing,
No money down under too much for nothing
Can’t touch another switch
Squirt and honk
Till three o’clock in the morning
No shade
All the wishes can’t find their way back
A word in need of healing
Not your temperature, colour, gravity, light, density,
But give it your best half eye dungeon dream
That can’t see the time passing anymore,
But the serpent knows
In the rain
Pigeons and doves,
Make the sound the same
My guitar gently disappears
But couldn’t get far enough
So many wishes
Couldn’t open the eye
But gives hope to the shape shifter
Who wonders why am I cursed
in this hunting ground
touching blood I swear
I didn’t belong
all sand
Apricot jubilee, fairies of debris, secret chanting rhyming sanctuary. My prayer circle is a satellite that turns with my sister. I’ve been waiting for thee, now I give up my hopes rhythmically, in the crosses of my camel’s heels and humps, I release cells of celluloid into a fountain.
I release calls without retreat.
I enter the darkness in the end.
I release dust into the void.
I call in the name no one can hear, in the sound of shattered voices, in the ground shaping paces, in the face of a vision.
I have one drop of crystal water on my lotus brow, between all my scattered opal eyes, staring they keep the wax picture of winter’s community half-full at midnight, a whispered dance in the curtains nurturing the east.
I am carbon ash, wherever I light the flame it is the same light and gentle tone, the jet stream’s lazy hand, satin changes and steel contracts.
I am empty in my laughter.
She acts afraid washing my apron and chain, I feel safe with all my scars, with my lesions and tattoos, laughing along in the lilac parade, looking for the catalog of extinct flying birds available for consumption at any time.
Mazes of the stances of a soldier’s last day and the breath of an undersea glider, love’s first potion at dawn, diving over the edge and glimpses of freedom’s silhouette
fade to orderly homecoming forgotten equanimity.
Equal belief, equal belent
All glimpses begin as dreams, all movements begin as steam.
Straight jackets and silken robes.
The seed’s dreaming heart, always reborn solitarily in itself, delivered up by dendritic hooves, lacing baskets and drawing bows,
tiny packages talking tiny whispers,
islands underneath the skin,
islands without time,
islands rolling through blinking rippled cathode moon hourglasses,
winnowing shadows, sunburn marrow, finds hunger’s next sigh,
leaving crafty values around language, around smiles,
to keep unburying, electric entanglement washes riddles with oil.
tremors never wasted on feelings, nostrils’ precious home,
trachea crucifixion before fresh ripped blanket ecology,
string blooming recollection juices anticipation,
just inside elongated empty eye regret circuits around the shade,
with a song and a rhythm with a name of its own,
with a place to land, a place to be born,
a place of waxing and waning and wanting,
a place dreaming of a way to get to you,
a place that is dream to make you his own,
a haunted vision of shipwrecks out on the desert.
all the stars dreaming into each other,
spiral soft shell honk and a knife edged eye spilling spider webs,
berry lips and slip jaws hot arachnid footprints in delicious
scorched wheels flying continental drifts, heat wave weaves
sympathetic traces in new skin turn flawless looking spinning
around blue breeze train, consecrated bony fire scratches
precious history rings, gifts spinning in the radiant sea,
glints stabbing through kinesthetic dreams, weaving wet hanging
heavy heaving fading falling free breath filament throwbacks, wetbacks, immigrants of the noosphere, walking Aphrodite in the dust of conformity, tears teeth tongues worn weak in the moon silver heartbreak trance doorway over the green growing grasshopper catalyst crossover correction ocean, flower-bird circle flies toward another eye lens inverse equation, watching whirlwinds without words, adrift on a sail turning the page bellowing without resistance, shine and shadow to force and inertia, every moment is a solstice and apocalypse of desert wombs bell tree
sliding lotus, island brightness, my hands turn, lily reaching, orchid dancing, lilac distance,
I release calls without retreat.
I enter the darkness in the end.
I release dust into the void.
I call in the name no one can hear, in the sound of shattered voices, in the ground shaping paces, in the face of a vision.
I have one drop of crystal water on my lotus brow, between all my scattered opal eyes, staring they keep the wax picture of winter’s community half-full at midnight, a whispered dance in the curtains nurturing the east.
I am carbon ash, wherever I light the flame it is the same light and gentle tone, the jet stream’s lazy hand, satin changes and steel contracts.
I am empty in my laughter.
She acts afraid washing my apron and chain, I feel safe with all my scars, with my lesions and tattoos, laughing along in the lilac parade, looking for the catalog of extinct flying birds available for consumption at any time.
Mazes of the stances of a soldier’s last day and the breath of an undersea glider, love’s first potion at dawn, diving over the edge and glimpses of freedom’s silhouette
fade to orderly homecoming forgotten equanimity.
Equal belief, equal belent
All glimpses begin as dreams, all movements begin as steam.
Straight jackets and silken robes.
The seed’s dreaming heart, always reborn solitarily in itself, delivered up by dendritic hooves, lacing baskets and drawing bows,
tiny packages talking tiny whispers,
islands underneath the skin,
islands without time,
islands rolling through blinking rippled cathode moon hourglasses,
winnowing shadows, sunburn marrow, finds hunger’s next sigh,
leaving crafty values around language, around smiles,
to keep unburying, electric entanglement washes riddles with oil.
tremors never wasted on feelings, nostrils’ precious home,
trachea crucifixion before fresh ripped blanket ecology,
string blooming recollection juices anticipation,
just inside elongated empty eye regret circuits around the shade,
with a song and a rhythm with a name of its own,
with a place to land, a place to be born,
a place of waxing and waning and wanting,
a place dreaming of a way to get to you,
a place that is dream to make you his own,
a haunted vision of shipwrecks out on the desert.
all the stars dreaming into each other,
spiral soft shell honk and a knife edged eye spilling spider webs,
berry lips and slip jaws hot arachnid footprints in delicious
scorched wheels flying continental drifts, heat wave weaves
sympathetic traces in new skin turn flawless looking spinning
around blue breeze train, consecrated bony fire scratches
precious history rings, gifts spinning in the radiant sea,
glints stabbing through kinesthetic dreams, weaving wet hanging
heavy heaving fading falling free breath filament throwbacks, wetbacks, immigrants of the noosphere, walking Aphrodite in the dust of conformity, tears teeth tongues worn weak in the moon silver heartbreak trance doorway over the green growing grasshopper catalyst crossover correction ocean, flower-bird circle flies toward another eye lens inverse equation, watching whirlwinds without words, adrift on a sail turning the page bellowing without resistance, shine and shadow to force and inertia, every moment is a solstice and apocalypse of desert wombs bell tree
sliding lotus, island brightness, my hands turn, lily reaching, orchid dancing, lilac distance,
set
Boneless, Breathless, Broken eyed,
Destined for a different path,
Gods got a great, plan for you,
Paralyzed, Pacified, Petrified,
out spied, out identified, out contrived,
Gods given you, more than you could dream,
in a million years of dreaming,
Be set, Besieged, Bitter blue,
desperate enough to make the edges meet,
Gods given you, great powers and resources,
by breath, by beat, by between,
I knew you’d make it through,
by the echo in the wall,
Gods given you, great gifts of gathering,
Detailed, Detonated, Depth,
destined for guidance in guesswork,
Gods given you, eyes to see him,
Prepared, Prepoured, Pre told,
desperate enough, to feel the heat of empty space,
to hear the voice of original birthplace,
Coiled, Castrated, Counter weighted,
ever wonder what comes forth in the dark,
only given in the grave,
the final unborn cross,
waiting for you, to pick up the pieces,
all alone, without a trace,
without a taste, without taking,
ever wonder how to hold this gift,
more delicate than flowers in bloom,
more revealing than the full moon,
more embracing, than awakening, from a cocoon,
ever wonder why the shadows insist, on periphery,
a one eyed oil bearer, free from repeating,
that finds its way into 3-D,
untouched, untempered, untold,
with great contents, unexplained,
destined for, all you need,
Gods got a great,
plan for you,
that will make you stretch, strain, itch,
seek in sweat,
buried in the spark, waiting in secret,
Desperate enough, fancy wont last in this self reflection,
Gods given you,
one final path.
Destined for a different path,
Gods got a great, plan for you,
Paralyzed, Pacified, Petrified,
out spied, out identified, out contrived,
Gods given you, more than you could dream,
in a million years of dreaming,
Be set, Besieged, Bitter blue,
desperate enough to make the edges meet,
Gods given you, great powers and resources,
by breath, by beat, by between,
I knew you’d make it through,
by the echo in the wall,
Gods given you, great gifts of gathering,
Detailed, Detonated, Depth,
destined for guidance in guesswork,
Gods given you, eyes to see him,
Prepared, Prepoured, Pre told,
desperate enough, to feel the heat of empty space,
to hear the voice of original birthplace,
Coiled, Castrated, Counter weighted,
ever wonder what comes forth in the dark,
only given in the grave,
the final unborn cross,
waiting for you, to pick up the pieces,
all alone, without a trace,
without a taste, without taking,
ever wonder how to hold this gift,
more delicate than flowers in bloom,
more revealing than the full moon,
more embracing, than awakening, from a cocoon,
ever wonder why the shadows insist, on periphery,
a one eyed oil bearer, free from repeating,
that finds its way into 3-D,
untouched, untempered, untold,
with great contents, unexplained,
destined for, all you need,
Gods got a great,
plan for you,
that will make you stretch, strain, itch,
seek in sweat,
buried in the spark, waiting in secret,
Desperate enough, fancy wont last in this self reflection,
Gods given you,
one final path.
last jolt
Easily charmed,
Easily harmed,
Through the wall, uncertain clues about an uncertain past,
All that became, what we call now,
A casual glance,
An unusual stance,
Disturbances in our delicate hands,
In the sensations themselves,
Ghosts and spirits dance,
The uncertainty principle falls deeper into spacetime,
Desperate attempts to make dust fly,
In search of knowing,
To make an old sailor of a new queen,
A sudden turn,
Overlooked or reborn,
The rendez-vouz once again uprooted layer by layer,
By gardens overgrown,
All in secrets never learned, stones unturned,
Buried in treatises unsigned,
A taste of limits touched never found,
Moments brushed by uneven distances mis-matched,
Depth for extent lapsed,
Hairs only believe in blood,
Never seen but seem enough,
To hold the bones uncertain thrusts,
For signs of trust,
Edges dug,
Below the mud,
Promises too vague and too slow.
But enough for dreams,
Stranded in the clouds.
6am clowns floating away,
Another form of another day,
In the morning rays,
The night still pulls my ankles to the stars,
And who would say this is not the way,
To live in the residue,
Where dust and demons argue,
Over what’s not through,
Over you,
Nothing new, I want mine too,
Deep in the out reach,
In the furtive castle, seeking reprieve,
Deep in the finger tips,
Deep in the skipping trance,
No trace left in the footprints,
Following the edge of the quicksand answer,
Burning incinerator in a cool forest,
My mouth has a thousand doors,
Bends ashes and eyelashes,
My face has no beginning,
My lips left a trail of kisses,
By no history,
So many sides in the folding kaleidoscope,
Sometimes broken, sometimes alone,
Carve like a shooting star to total the abyss,
Never miss those signals from shaking prism portals.
Leaving lightyears ago,
They pick out one by one, cell by cell.
The image of death,
Packaged up in breaths.
Further and further apart,
Wheels within wheels, on separate roads,
Cross words of galaxy worms lazy orbits,
Tighten collective childhood trick indian burns,
Things we never said,
Make up the precious space between us,
Trying to dim the red shift one more moment,
Bring into view for a quick, one view was bent close enough to catch the hue,
I thought I could get away with just that,
But it doubled up on the ricochet,
I skipped ahead and left the story open ended,
I heard them talking about it,
It seemed as though from within.
Pyramids on the edge of the soul,
Trade the second guess
Take out all the memories together,
Time filled with oil and command,
The breakfast coconut compass to give to the bone chilled enemy delicacy,
Sweet nectar of looking up into some never been humpback hack rider,
My back track return wrapped up in skin I can hold and hear,
But no where near the key is found,
Left headgear behind her knee,
Coffee recent tragedy late fermented hope,
I will see again,
Things I don’t want to say,
The next step tapping a secret word,
I turn and turn,
Early codes curl,
For that she needs to cry,
And I forgot how to spell out in the wasteland,
Irresistible calls and an unmistakeable course,
Blind answer started the awe and static,
The speaker system squeaks,
Believing it was a bird,
And I must translate the safety angles,
At the right moment so as not to disturb,
Blue lust too complex and interwoven,
Blow to and fro over luck and a couple of dust shackles
Never cross amplitude with being nude,
That’s exactly how her brass would be understood,
New moon twin heights,
Something for finally breaths’ seaweed nebulizer,
and anything left,
to start a war,
so I sent myself a message
but it didn’t look like rain,
only the haze exploding,
sensitively led astray,
to fractures, stars and ashes,
pi reductions in a crows eyes,
and my spark kept them apart,
little pressure limits in the current
cover me like a drum,
sometimes I feel too obtuse,
but I still make it through,
umbilical chords charge,
strummed and such,
the missing draught keys,
a chimpanze on a solar flares face,
an eye for the tomb,
colored treats the tongue and room,
jawbones don’t last,
horror the storm,
walls of dough,
being born a window,
better off a filled role,
fineness that doesn’t need a notice,
I fancied myself a foreign trade,
layers of symbols, music and evolution,
most of the time I was laughing too,
grateful like gold,
lightning strikes and plays with me,
they told me sit on the floor,
smoke swirls in the hour glass
foreign postage
wind delivered brush strokes on my ribcage
slowly the shapes bite the squeaky bird under my skin
all I heard was a shock wave
for my heart
take my heart
this beat and all its heat
all I have is night
but I can’t fly
Easily harmed,
Through the wall, uncertain clues about an uncertain past,
All that became, what we call now,
A casual glance,
An unusual stance,
Disturbances in our delicate hands,
In the sensations themselves,
Ghosts and spirits dance,
The uncertainty principle falls deeper into spacetime,
Desperate attempts to make dust fly,
In search of knowing,
To make an old sailor of a new queen,
A sudden turn,
Overlooked or reborn,
The rendez-vouz once again uprooted layer by layer,
By gardens overgrown,
All in secrets never learned, stones unturned,
Buried in treatises unsigned,
A taste of limits touched never found,
Moments brushed by uneven distances mis-matched,
Depth for extent lapsed,
Hairs only believe in blood,
Never seen but seem enough,
To hold the bones uncertain thrusts,
For signs of trust,
Edges dug,
Below the mud,
Promises too vague and too slow.
But enough for dreams,
Stranded in the clouds.
6am clowns floating away,
Another form of another day,
In the morning rays,
The night still pulls my ankles to the stars,
And who would say this is not the way,
To live in the residue,
Where dust and demons argue,
Over what’s not through,
Over you,
Nothing new, I want mine too,
Deep in the out reach,
In the furtive castle, seeking reprieve,
Deep in the finger tips,
Deep in the skipping trance,
No trace left in the footprints,
Following the edge of the quicksand answer,
Burning incinerator in a cool forest,
My mouth has a thousand doors,
Bends ashes and eyelashes,
My face has no beginning,
My lips left a trail of kisses,
By no history,
So many sides in the folding kaleidoscope,
Sometimes broken, sometimes alone,
Carve like a shooting star to total the abyss,
Never miss those signals from shaking prism portals.
Leaving lightyears ago,
They pick out one by one, cell by cell.
The image of death,
Packaged up in breaths.
Further and further apart,
Wheels within wheels, on separate roads,
Cross words of galaxy worms lazy orbits,
Tighten collective childhood trick indian burns,
Things we never said,
Make up the precious space between us,
Trying to dim the red shift one more moment,
Bring into view for a quick, one view was bent close enough to catch the hue,
I thought I could get away with just that,
But it doubled up on the ricochet,
I skipped ahead and left the story open ended,
I heard them talking about it,
It seemed as though from within.
Pyramids on the edge of the soul,
Trade the second guess
Take out all the memories together,
Time filled with oil and command,
The breakfast coconut compass to give to the bone chilled enemy delicacy,
Sweet nectar of looking up into some never been humpback hack rider,
My back track return wrapped up in skin I can hold and hear,
But no where near the key is found,
Left headgear behind her knee,
Coffee recent tragedy late fermented hope,
I will see again,
Things I don’t want to say,
The next step tapping a secret word,
I turn and turn,
Early codes curl,
For that she needs to cry,
And I forgot how to spell out in the wasteland,
Irresistible calls and an unmistakeable course,
Blind answer started the awe and static,
The speaker system squeaks,
Believing it was a bird,
And I must translate the safety angles,
At the right moment so as not to disturb,
Blue lust too complex and interwoven,
Blow to and fro over luck and a couple of dust shackles
Never cross amplitude with being nude,
That’s exactly how her brass would be understood,
New moon twin heights,
Something for finally breaths’ seaweed nebulizer,
and anything left,
to start a war,
so I sent myself a message
but it didn’t look like rain,
only the haze exploding,
sensitively led astray,
to fractures, stars and ashes,
pi reductions in a crows eyes,
and my spark kept them apart,
little pressure limits in the current
cover me like a drum,
sometimes I feel too obtuse,
but I still make it through,
umbilical chords charge,
strummed and such,
the missing draught keys,
a chimpanze on a solar flares face,
an eye for the tomb,
colored treats the tongue and room,
jawbones don’t last,
horror the storm,
walls of dough,
being born a window,
better off a filled role,
fineness that doesn’t need a notice,
I fancied myself a foreign trade,
layers of symbols, music and evolution,
most of the time I was laughing too,
grateful like gold,
lightning strikes and plays with me,
they told me sit on the floor,
smoke swirls in the hour glass
foreign postage
wind delivered brush strokes on my ribcage
slowly the shapes bite the squeaky bird under my skin
all I heard was a shock wave
for my heart
take my heart
this beat and all its heat
all I have is night
but I can’t fly
for you
Because I burn, around the fire of your mouth,
I find your eyes irresistible,
No escape from riddles in the seam,
One light leads to another, for my electric tadpole fossil brainstem,
I get my gifts directly, and understand why the road is so narrow,
Because I burn in a light rain of your open sky fields,
your heat waves under my feet carry me through the death of sleep,
No escape from the dream splicer,
blowing spiral Spanish stairs in the mirror of remembering my dreams,
I get my gifts directly,
the green landscape through a broken horn reciting the name of wholeness,
shadows walk with the perfection of falling stars,
Delicate mechanisms like changing leaves and sand,
Because I burn, in the laughter of a dying man,
no escape from extremes,
a thickly robed hyena, in your glass river bed turning wheels,
I get my gifts directly, lost in the twilight,
turned around in drifting canvas of satellites in strange partial blindness,
thick blanket of eternal escaped wild card soundless skinless bones,
I find your eyes irresistible,
No escape from riddles in the seam,
One light leads to another, for my electric tadpole fossil brainstem,
I get my gifts directly, and understand why the road is so narrow,
Because I burn in a light rain of your open sky fields,
your heat waves under my feet carry me through the death of sleep,
No escape from the dream splicer,
blowing spiral Spanish stairs in the mirror of remembering my dreams,
I get my gifts directly,
the green landscape through a broken horn reciting the name of wholeness,
shadows walk with the perfection of falling stars,
Delicate mechanisms like changing leaves and sand,
Because I burn, in the laughter of a dying man,
no escape from extremes,
a thickly robed hyena, in your glass river bed turning wheels,
I get my gifts directly, lost in the twilight,
turned around in drifting canvas of satellites in strange partial blindness,
thick blanket of eternal escaped wild card soundless skinless bones,
the fall
Because her eyes were wet with sin and believing, I was exiled into seeing. My eyes bright with ignorance. The moon over my head lights the hills and rises. Her skin holds the distance of a day, so I run as far as I can. In some places fullness and emptiness embody one another. In others they only suit themselves, I wonder which one she dignifies in the blue flame in a land of her many states, in roots digging in the light, in a sky diver’s breaths for her smile, in every sailor’s destiny for her mouth. There is a small raining window between us, so soft I have to close my eyes to cool my heart. There is a one well finger waiting that is so wide I have to see out to roam with my cries. Petrol water so heavy I have to conceive to heal my thighs. Silent mistake asleep in the meadow. Headlights don’t shine where I want to see. The snake with a thousand pages of teeth in a little bottle of ink and spice. Loss and discovery. My gray calming teeth cracking day by day, peeling gelatinous layers in a steamy eye.
Old King Cole was a Mary old soul, and Mary has always been, love’s goddess in landslide heat, sphenoid resonances in the swinging trees, desire singing in pounding hooves, sting in dipping wings rushing streams balancing its not unsaid (over time another layers slippery seeds are shed, led towards her shoulders combined in harmony.)
My queen is my license and my victory. I wouldn’t recognize my baby’s answer. Wouldn’t recall her twitching thighs full of wet ambition. She’s nonnegotiable. Her smoothness on fire with causality under the starlight. Like every break in the wind. She shakes no hollow tones in the yellow leaves. She doesn’t take no musical improving. She’s got a backside. She does not affect me in any way that I can see. I do not see the ocean of blood ebb and flow between us, or the light bending within us. I only know that it is sweet, that she has cultivated and carries some tangy nectar that I cannot get enough of . I love her more and more for my own benefit. I pull on her mouth. I do not know if it is an experience I long for. I drink and cherish some nature of hers that I do not know. I think it is indigestible; but we are one.
And my dry heart out into the wind, blows around like tumbleweed. My opaque eyes miss hollowly, the falling halos, until my imitation twins glow shivers in the wind, the familiar coat remembers how rain dances lightly behind my eyes, and ships of molo sailed out of the foggy night, my mouth, to buildings in the dusk and dawn embroidered over my pulse, where the lights go out all sealed in her touch. I call to her. Tell me, sweet Marie, how do you feel. Can you show me where you live. Is it the fire in the ground, is it the fire in the void, is it the frozen in the ground, is it the feeling in your heart, is it the place where you began, a space without command, do you live at all, are you with me right now, can you let me know somehow, oh sweet Marie, I’ve been watching so long, I’ve been tracing every river flow, I’ve been lost in the rise and fall, sat with my eyes open for days, now I call out with every sound I know, sweet Marie. Out on the oceans where we meet again, entranced by each other’s eyes, slipping in and out of the cliffs speaking edge, searching for sweet Marie. All the way from your villa on the hill, to your golden desert valley, from swollen head to broken heart, in the pieces lies the one spark, a buttery flying antidote, at the end of every street, I look and smell the emptiness so sweet. It feels like I’ve been waiting here all my life, and now I ain’t got no time left. I’m whispering and watching. I have written notes of every kind and left them just for you. If there’s one thing left to say, it’s that I didn’t know those shadows had other stories to tell. At the end all the road all the signs disappear. It’s like they were never there at all. The only signs are those from me to you.
Old King Cole was a Mary old soul, and Mary has always been, love’s goddess in landslide heat, sphenoid resonances in the swinging trees, desire singing in pounding hooves, sting in dipping wings rushing streams balancing its not unsaid (over time another layers slippery seeds are shed, led towards her shoulders combined in harmony.)
My queen is my license and my victory. I wouldn’t recognize my baby’s answer. Wouldn’t recall her twitching thighs full of wet ambition. She’s nonnegotiable. Her smoothness on fire with causality under the starlight. Like every break in the wind. She shakes no hollow tones in the yellow leaves. She doesn’t take no musical improving. She’s got a backside. She does not affect me in any way that I can see. I do not see the ocean of blood ebb and flow between us, or the light bending within us. I only know that it is sweet, that she has cultivated and carries some tangy nectar that I cannot get enough of . I love her more and more for my own benefit. I pull on her mouth. I do not know if it is an experience I long for. I drink and cherish some nature of hers that I do not know. I think it is indigestible; but we are one.
And my dry heart out into the wind, blows around like tumbleweed. My opaque eyes miss hollowly, the falling halos, until my imitation twins glow shivers in the wind, the familiar coat remembers how rain dances lightly behind my eyes, and ships of molo sailed out of the foggy night, my mouth, to buildings in the dusk and dawn embroidered over my pulse, where the lights go out all sealed in her touch. I call to her. Tell me, sweet Marie, how do you feel. Can you show me where you live. Is it the fire in the ground, is it the fire in the void, is it the frozen in the ground, is it the feeling in your heart, is it the place where you began, a space without command, do you live at all, are you with me right now, can you let me know somehow, oh sweet Marie, I’ve been watching so long, I’ve been tracing every river flow, I’ve been lost in the rise and fall, sat with my eyes open for days, now I call out with every sound I know, sweet Marie. Out on the oceans where we meet again, entranced by each other’s eyes, slipping in and out of the cliffs speaking edge, searching for sweet Marie. All the way from your villa on the hill, to your golden desert valley, from swollen head to broken heart, in the pieces lies the one spark, a buttery flying antidote, at the end of every street, I look and smell the emptiness so sweet. It feels like I’ve been waiting here all my life, and now I ain’t got no time left. I’m whispering and watching. I have written notes of every kind and left them just for you. If there’s one thing left to say, it’s that I didn’t know those shadows had other stories to tell. At the end all the road all the signs disappear. It’s like they were never there at all. The only signs are those from me to you.
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