He
He stands between
Then, and now,
A perfect pose
Like a prostrate Man
Memories of Home
And Fantasies of Away
Pass through him,
Set him erect to be
A lazy I AM.
We watch where He lives
He’s house can forgive.
And can predict.
And is the only marriage
With Now.
She
Being found in the
The holding of ands.
Ands creating one
Of distant friends
Blessing them both
Making them whole
And And will never be an end.
Poetry - inspired by ee cummings and Jim Carrey
Failure can burn you in the moment
Perhaps to highest degrees
If it is witnessed.
But
Witnesses should not make it worse.
For inviting yourself
To be there, watching
Always,
It can be, that in your distinct mind,
Being less of a failure
May only mean
Being.
And then it is you who sees
Advises, edits the work
Manifests a bigger fire
There.
In the Pit (i can't tell you)
i could tell you
like a battle
like a gang fight
maybe like an scrum
i could show you
the bruises
the knots
the stains, blood and beer
i could let you
smell last night’s
shirt, shoes, jeans
my hair, my body
i could reel in a vid
posted by the band
by a fan or by
someone too tired out
but you have to know
even standing watching
is no way to know
there is only one way to know
put on your boots
lace them up good
wait for the beat to
whip it into a swirl
take one step closer
follow with a fist
take another step
pump another fist
push your body
straight into the melee
rage. stomp. jump.
twist. pump. rage.
there is only one way
you have to get in
you will be bounced
you will sweat
i can't tell you
but look at my face
see it in my heart
it is the best thing in the world
Folds - poetry inspired by a week of Denise Levertov
——
Folds in my sheets like ocean waves
Everything like ocean waves
Folds in our clothes like dunes
In White Sands, in Sahara
Over taking everything slowly
Stealing the flowers’ blooms.
Folds in our skin, like sounds,
Like universe’s frequencies, on and on,
Like our lives, in and out of existence,
Never disappearing from our face.
Folds of time that take us down
Paths unknown, always our own,
Through holes in the continuum we rely on.
The clocks, they will tick, sending sound
Over and through the ocean’s waves,
Moving the dunes, stealing the beauty,
taking birth, giving birth, making love,
Again and again, never the same,
But sleeping in the same sheets.
Something else more meaningful - inspired by Denise Levertov again
Buy one, get one
Two in one
In my days I search usually
For things that can matter twice
If at least twice
Then
That’s more
Than
Most things can really matter.
Can I go
To market for bread alone?
Or should I grab a sack of flour too?
Perhaps I can stroll,
Meet
More customers buying
Meat
Perhaps the bogo of the day?
If I dream
It should matter in waking hours,
Tell me of my insecurities and pain,
But also entertain,
Mean
Something. At least on
Average.
A secreted message of me to me.
When we touch
It should grab me, bring me home
Light a fire on my skin, in my mind
And yours. Two
Hearts
Can beat as one. Singular.
Heart.
Undivided, if only within me.
Tech - poetry inspired by Denise Levertov
Most days I’m grateful for the tech of the times
Not everyone has it, not everyone knows
Nor do I always see it provide and destroy
Are tools an inheritance from benevolent giants?
Perhaps only bait to enslave our weak minds?
A wrench for a distinct nut the certified mechanic loosens?
The letters from monks dispensing the word of god,
Then Gutenbergs’ printing press, and now...
Love or hate propaganda for this barbaric world.
The advent of the cotton gin harvested like light
Breaking the chains of field laborers
Stealing the soil’s nutrients, ignoring better crops.
The camera gave future memories to our families.
We didn’t always smile, we didn’t always love.
That man was lynched and that man killed by a mob.
Is it tech’s fault that I know of the atrocities
Should I be pleased by this? Should I search for more?
To know that my neighbor is not the Senator I thought?
Is it tech’s fault that a man can die in the street
Under knee of the law? And I too can feel the pain
He and his family feel? Under knee of the law.
Is it tech? Is it good tech that I wish never came about?
But for my own protection? And for the protection of
Buildings and businesses and families and passersby?
Of course it is good for the knowledge of good.
But as fires help us in cooking the perfect meal
They too are used in destroying an innocent home.
Anew
Wasted ways born anew
Every second chance I give to you
Wasted ways move along
Forgotten verses in our song
Wasted ways repeated
Neverland like when we cheated
Wasted. Ways. One more time.
But Autumn comes and I feel sublime
Equal footing
I’m taken by equal footing
That those I encounter can see it the case
That their heartbeats and breath matter to me
There are reasons in their words that make them alive
Once it went like this, before I knew too much, and it stuck,
“You’re so nice, you seem to think.” I try. “Oh do you?”
Trying was to be wrong, efforting was not belonging.
If not to try, I think I’d not be.
As fifty draws near and I’ve heard a few things ,
Like flowers growing, and the heat of the sun, the smile of a baby
The crack of a homeless man’s smile, the earnest in a mother’s prayer
The cry of the bereaved and the flight of the soul
Youth will always be something to listen with
It is has the ears of the unknowing, the threading of the unfinished quilt
The harsh gravel bed of a yet to be paved road laid to somewhere
Or perhaps to nowhere never to be paved.
When my sight and hearing falls into the moment
And the bubble, the shell of your heart, expands, fills with emotion
Fills with humanity, and the sound of every word is two puffs and a draw
My palms open, I lay them on you.
Is this trying?
This the boundary so thin, the sheer weight of my effort
Presses the words back into your heart with fear or surprise.
Three draws and no puffs. “Oh do you?”
I must. We must.
And if that thin bubble can stand the pressure
If I’m accepted, one more breath and one more heartbeat
One more desiring and longing and trusting word fills it at a time
If I’m engulfed in that space
Then you have been accepted in mine. Feel free to stretch out
We now have twice the leg room. Yours and mine. No longer alone.
If not to try, I think I’d not be.
I try. Oh yes I do. And so must you.
