The upper most tier
within
the undiscovered country
the soul / the mind
where our dreams and chi speak
to the absolute & infinite
One with All
the names of every life we celebrate

It is a place elsewhere,
no place yet everywhere
in the eye, third or thousandth,
or in the center of mortality
where our core will pulse (a heart)
and illuminate
the golden secrets of creation
God's hieroglyphs & alphabets
in the languages of life...

I have seen with my mind's eye
that Golden ceiling
of my soul,
in the deeper halls of beyond
the physical or mortal coil,
and its foreign message on that wall
in perfect gold
clear and enlightening
spoke without a sound nor
loss in translation
with heavy earthling tongues
My evidence and proof
there is more beyond / still yet
to kingdom come...

Let us go for a swim upon
the surface of the sun...

*(For in the Light, we all are One)

I feel like...

I dance the body, electric
to get closer to the intimate
soul's vast thunder / for I am
liquid lighting
a storm's expression of atmospheres
and farther galaxies
illustrating sensations as near
as this skin in flux
in sheen's slick wet veneer
quick silver -- body cataclysmic ...
release.

I am the pulse of life
in electric veins that cradles
the flesh heavy breathing heart
like none other alive
before or ever again
manufactured replicants...

I am every stroke every shape
of non-existent clocks
stretching us to keep and wait...
we are malleable Artwork
in Creation's amorphous frames
experiences
supreme and above
yonder words
giving empty praise, applaud
of passing sound waves...

For I am adoration
in all your eyes and lifting sighs
I dance the body, levitation

When Love is the song your lips ignite

Light and lightning holidays
rivers of higher realms
kingdoms of heavenly your kiss will tell

Bodies in cosmic flight
both day and night and afterlife

Perfection is the bed where this made
Life and heavenly love
shines forever and a day -- will reign
Your thunder, my lightning
will wash the wyrms **** and mud
oh wonder
oh always

Touch is proof and my cup overflows
with all the gifts and grace

And I am spiral galaxies
star diamond fires -- a body of Art
All in always as one of every kind
with every name
sacred hearts
eternal flame

a universe is made

In us as One
the body
Dance electric
praising All
your loving ways...

(come privately and say out loud my name)

Shadow honors death
with stealth's sharpest steel, tonight's
thief of crimson kiss...

There are stories that are written down, carved in stone, others are told  out loud or made for song, and some still linger--painted on walls of mountains, caves. Wallpaper tapestries, depictions of a good day's successful hunt. While the communal fires and bones have turn to dust, a good day stands still in that ****** snap shot.

From wars of old and origin tales, there are those narratives passed down as legacy, heritage of families, the wealth of lessons through time, reminders and warnings, and glories of victories against enemies faded away in defeat. How sometimes those tribal memories' recollection instill or motivate into action--change, or rites of passage (whether successfully or doomed) the undulation of life carries on, and finds a way.

Yet the stories that keep and hold our passions' interests, retold many times to quench our hearts, these are the ones more profound and rich of moral grounds, full of fertile meaning. Poetry of feelings spoken word of theater, out in the wide howling wilderness, while the wind becomes the wolf at the moon. We are moved by and by, as well as the soaring soul within. We learn to love those ancestral ghosts of yore, resurrected in the beat of drum, the pantomime of sons as their fathers, the rising embers and shadows running from the flames. Still, not all can carry the past or the details that fog ... while our rivers rush the seasons by.

In many languages and lives  of every breathing passersby, there are also sparks of moments brief as an evening sky's meteor shower, rainfall of quicksilver streaks of light. Once and awhile there is awe and wonder, if witnessed by mindful eyes and held still in the same place where dreams awake in our sleep, has no need of script or reasons why, it is simple and beloved. The great and grandest of One story is gleaned, witnessed and recognized. The constellations brighten and seem to coalesce, the Universe opens its infinite arms, its vast lungs, and with one sigh within this witness, exhalations, in recognizing a connection with breath and firmament, the miracles of Life, cosmos & Light...

If only briefly like a flash of atmospheric fire from a meteorite in death-fall, the Infinite and Absolute now borne of proof -- without a word to convince or purchase. Words and like Texas Tea pollutes so heavily the kind and flight, thickly darkly removes what thine eyes doth and must see.

And as an avid lover of poetic justice & epics & heroes from mystic times, I keep close my heart's affection, since all love stories continue ever after to shine...

I see you
in all the dots and lines
diamonds and geometry
alive cosmic symmetry
I want to be
a speck of one letter in
your vast alphabet,
just to be exhaled
in the breadth of your true story
the shrapnel casualty or
pawn sacrificed for your glory
I want only you
to remember by...
And a No One like me
made alive even in death
in all your divine skies
full of Story...
Oh Goddess, my goddess,
what magnificence and wonder
are in mine eyes...

Then there are stories in silence and unrequited, replied inside:

Love begets like white lightning... Electric veins alive... Glowing tapestries of every life...  Story...

I will teach you how
to read--not just words or signs;
heartbeats hush of life.

Pass mind fear's dark tunnel,
in One's vast ocean of Light

We swim in the sky
and fly in the deep...

Leave behind our shell
with the weight of human pains

Oh Ocean of Light
Our perfect home where love is rain

and the sun is both gold & chrome
and our kiss begets white lightning...

After all is said and done (again)
here where our withering bones have won

I will always love you beyond
and forever more....

after all the words are said
when none have gone and done is dead

I will love you always and instead...

1.
Burn as dry incense,
To cleanse airs and veils between.
So the Light is gleaned.

2.
Sinai's burning bush
Banished Moses witness All,
Truth, evergreen.

3.
(Confucius #9)
What wisdom tells me
of antiquities and worth:
dead can't keep... nor count.

White Cookie-dough Cush
Rainbow munchies, puff-puff give:
Life's stunted Bonsai.

Cuz because the love of parents
should not would not will not lie
nor must not be not ever denied

Be respectful and confide, fearless with truth;
since love itself is mostly
if not only always right
Cuz because our hearts are wise
(Remember be good in kind...)

So then guardians will and trust
and must keep an eye,
though their words are of instruction,
with logic and reason - what if and why,
assist in the up lifting of our futures' minds

Yet remain the reminders of follies before
and guide with guiltless light

Look 'em in the eyes!

Cuz because Love don't lie,
it's alright
let them wander beyond the shore
have 'em ready at the door
say "I love you"
all the while
living anew your wan of life

Keeping in touch
still keeping an eye
cuz because it's never too much
loving wise parents
are allowed to gush...

and to the mindful ascendants
the children we adore
it would be kind to do your darnedest
make us proud
stay true and warmest with every smile
often visit with laughter loud,
And sit and talk for awhile...

Cuz because
our circle is / of Life
wraps itself back around
yes, would be wise to love 'em Now...

Cuz just because.

It's said to give luck,
heart-shaped leaves of three or four,
green as one's envy.

Discard emotion,
blank expression like cold stone,
your full house aflush.

Such buttery lips,
Silken creams wrapping our tongues,
My *Patisserie.

In this city's desert morning
sinful heat of Summers
vagabond streets eating away whats left
of joyful youth's humanity

Thin and mild mannered
tattoo novice ink
inarticulate drawings of adolescent *****
gnarly scabs / a missing tooth
walking dead in flip flops

pain clawing his expression
all loss in its translation and

Need is loud - a vagrant shout
but I have no money to give...

Young man, in his wife beater tank,
smears of dirt
his wastrel work
crawling through the black
though this morning's blinding
sobriety
forces its friendship on you
                 find a way back...

Young man, here's some breakfast
warm and steady
in the war-time melee of your stomach
empty as the shame
that must be lingering
in your pulse,

here's some shoes and water too
keep cool in this hateful heat
keep on toward home
toward mother's arms
if that's all the choice you got

survive or not.

Here's a moment kindly passing
not a dollar or a hit,
I hope you make it to the next one
and maybe another kindness will be won

in the ripples of this pond
where loss is the stone
you are sinking

below the surface deeply hidden
it's only a matter of realizing,
we are born to swim in it
we're made of lightning

when you resurface be strong and kindly
wash away the dark nightly chiding

Young man, I see this morning crying
will wake and learn
he's the only one he's fighting

human and kind and life and time
appear to be casualties
in the mind
when we mindlessly dis' & gorge on wish
for something equal,
gold and fine...

Young man, "god bless" he says
goodbye
there's nothing left to hold on to
but your soul's worth and
hearts
of those who love you

That is what you're searching
to find  

Yourself in their eyes...?

Like "Connect the dots"
Rorschach Ink Blots / fluffy clouds,
Minds map, third eye gleans.

Death's devastating
chaos - drowns all the petty
fights and last concerns.

Like the chili seed
her words burn and love making
keeps warm fires lit.

WITCH HAZEL
                            Into the green wood,
                            where the mortar grows its stones.
                            Moons for sacrifice.
                            

POULTICE**
                            Chew and ruminate.
                            For whatever ails the wife,
                            he will sleep for good.

They're lighting up the north east corner of "the meadows"
practice run with low flying pyrotechnics
Sin city reds and globular silvers like coins exploding
against the new born summer sunset night
while the pillars of cumulonimbus thunderheads claw the desert sky
and like sharp fingers that squeeze a water filled balloon
the roiling fronts will burst and its dark deluge will gush
as the lightning flicker behind the gloom
and the boom of the Gods colliding battle  on high
shakes the earth and bones that languish in its boon...

Let the celebration begin, its 4th of July weekend,
let's recall how this great nation got its independence
by each **** of a fellow immigrant from the Mother Queen's scrutiny
cousin with your race & legacy in mutiny

how odd the madness of the power that deludes and controls
commands without minds finding recognizing similarities
in the Simeon faces of fellowships in God
turned traitorous in the name of freedom & love
how high that pedestal we have built to make idols of
slave owning founders with their profundities of words
to make law a movement, verbs for pride and enforcement
of unjustified bloodletting
See how modivated the stampede
as they rush washed of their guilt to take precious
the lives that have fell without having yet learned to live it

Let us get drunk on ale, and dress up in re-enactment
and cheer the invasion of the land not belonging
nor will ever belong to any mortal man
who will lie in its' skin in the end since life is brief
as a musket flash or saber's slashing the breath from their necks
Let us respectfully remember how putrid the blood
and the diseases that bubbled from therein
Let us celebrate that old America who's governing bodies
as white as the wigs worn in parliament
and lingering still the idolatry of such grand fathers
to dismiss the atrocities then
and ignoring the colors that now myriad
our country's racial profile / face / forward / march...

Can we then presume to celebrate the massacres after
the revolution in its greatness and re-written historical text
to condition the minds of our own
still underdeveloped --so as not to question
Gramp's authority,
or question the miens by which the old hatreds bleached
and soaked itself in the common sense

Can we celebrate the truth?
and in memorium of the old world
when freedom that was fought for
against the powers of powerful governments
we stand thankful now with what this world stands for

Let us dance and sing and hoopla
because we have succeeded in making it
creating that dream of total equally
with every struggle for the truthful peace
there was pain and growth of our nation's reign,
with every war never to be won
we find victory in the lives that discard its old ways
of divide and conquer
Because this is your America,
in debt and desperate for a new balance
and refreshing breath without
from within... the thoughts we collectively share
We are human after all
we are evolved and intelligent
and we can take what ever the **** we want
because we have the best immigrant minds
and we're # 1...

I can hear the popcorn firecrackers
with squealing of children's laughter fading
as the storm sweeps in...

if it is the future we reason
that we fight for, why do we celebrate with dishonesty
and deny ourselves the true face
of a miracle that is this current state ...?

It seems that it is and will become too loud
for anything other than exploding glitter in the sky
and doubt with its enemy - faith
is as silent as the thieves that steal dreams
that shatter like

exploding glitter in the sky...
if only awe was as that innocent and meek
when secretly I still wish
"God save the Queen"
and beg for world peace...

It is said "Life is short"
but in truth Life's very tall
"Be" a good giant.

Shadows stabbing wish
and claws pining on chalkboards,
Obsession's lovechild.

Concussed by the "Bus."
No Heisman post CT scan.
J E L L O.

What happens ...

As the I-15 climbs the sierra hills
the surrounding desert bush
tumble dried scenic route
Bolder Northward to Boulder City
the size of a town really
lets not digress now as we reach the summit
driving 5 passed the 75 mph limit
the valley below us now opens wide
now as the evening cools us
open car widows and rock anthems
about Love, lost, and forever 'til the end of...

What happens on the way ...
if one is restless, a running mind a hamster wheel
be the silent witness observant as
the stars that are more brilliant in the dark
highways of red white light bulbs
head and rear breaks
polka dots of glow on the late lanes
this interstate night tour
play the mute passenger screaming loudly with your eyes
and watch and listen (black asphalt hum)
feel and sense with thoughtful heart fiber
of being as One
and as a witness must see also must know
where we're headed
Billboard signs say "Dinner & A Show"
down in the valley soon to call home...

What happens ...
to each their own manifest,
destiny is your experience accepted
or refuse and deny your living as proof
we can tell one another how it goes
or if suddenly how it went
the words of a traveler (knows it does
no justice)
take a trip--find out for yourself--discover
what was happening
now that we are closer to here
sin city neon bright
welcomes you
heat waves and winter black ice
flash floods thunder lightning showgirls
gamblers loss of identities
*** ***** DUI and Mormons doing ****
what happened?
(If not yet been had)

The artificial life and transient folk
the only bad is being good
welcomes you  
with bright lights and carousel hours
spinning tea cups and misplaced wonderment
eyes open wide asleep
loss of purpose and colorful dreams
running as one (like them)
in the hamster wheel...

Why ask --why--what happens
when we've all been out of place
where are we now that we're here
and its elsewhere from where we should
Desperation & Needles
black and jack and stratosphere suicides
if you look on the map
off the walls shine and glowing
it says "you are here"

yet we're still askance & confused
again asking
What happened ... here?
Who were you, when?
And again good friends to the end
still the road is paved
with good intentions and afterglow
if you happened by
Upon
the Strip...

Before that Final day
dictates the Sounds & Furies
as All as eye
for you by you
the minutia dress of un-success
dross and bullets
butterfly wings beautiful
garbage
gots to sho-fo...

Before the infinite space eyes
scrutinize
on that final day
beyond spatial searching
for good graces
like light being recognized
love on all faces

on that last day having failed
our Mother's womb
this fine fine fortress of a home
evergreen--sea--sky--blue
if Absolute were upon us
curtains and swan songs
for Georges and Gorgeous dreams
this beautiful jetsam
garbage heap
from Rosetta ashes
with form from crushed cosmic soups

a stone
spinning kaleidoscope
at most, spheres
with tearful fears
bewilderment cheers
heavenly lungs vying
all of us here impatiently dying
everyday with the sun

Wait for the Father's love
to once again save us
before the infinite
upheaval...

Upon piles and piles of off-putting
garbage heaps
a child is picking up things
anything of value
something of sustenance
lessons of happenstance

And Low! It is not good...
All are our children - being denied food & mirth
But what is a song to a diminished bird?
no cage more cruel than loss of life's worth
the tossed away

little tiny
shavings from the noble
mettle from Excalibur's dross
diamonds glittering nightime gowns
picking up trash in prestine dresses?
babies precious lumps of coal
with little value
but our future blessed...

In the heart's sacred berths
Love upholds
Life more than gold...

Because... Day oh!         Mi za Day - oh!
Daylight has come..."

(Home = Priceless)

Siempre Vivir
Go quench the thirsty heart's soul,
Cuz love drinks for free.

From Oceans' breadth
To Skies, mountains, rivers, plains.
Waterfall-showers.

Doomsday soothsayer.
What vision doth entertain,
Medieval profits?

Akimbo cacti
by the scenic highway roads
flail in Hell's hot sun.

(The sound of breathing)

I am the air / unseen
a breath
underneath
                  the rush
                  the coffee
                  the traffic
on concrete streets

I am lifting the dirt
                  the grime
                   the dust
polluting us
I am adding wings
to the speed of your feet
to where your dreams may meet

I am the sigh
in your quivering lungs
inside your heart
                  such self defeat
when you concede to it
deceit / disease / cease to breathe
never to notice me
or listen to our song

everything

Wind chimes time
a summer's relief / a breeze
strides along
cooling your face from the heat

Do not say you blame it all on me

Don't say I'm the purpose
                    the reason
or                  the space between
knife and slice of skin
between the heart & the eyes
unable and refusing to see
why our love
retreats

Dagger / plunged
the deathblow
a quick hands woes

A heartless man goes
so neat and clean
so discreet
hiding in the bleak
uncaring

so...

I am the air
   you never notice me
touching
           your sorrow
            your skin
yet never being / your glee
invisible
that is how despair begins

I am the air / unseen
waiting for you to care
                        to notice
                         to open eyes, see!

I am the air, here / with you
a friend that is always
there

invisible
waiting to be / seen.

do you notice me?

(The sound of breathing)

A heart is beating.
Lub Dub Lub Dub*

Did you notice me...

The sound of soft breathing

I am *air
movement unseen
inhaled breath
beneath                    the rushing
                                  the coffee beans grinding
                                  the imbuing traffic
I am lifted feet,
grime & dirt & dust,
our own conveniences of truths
polluting us
I am adding wings
to the mach speed of economy
class and jet stream smog
stirred not shaken
still forgettable
unseen...
                                    great deforestations
                                    exponentisl growing pains
                                    industry ostracizing nature
                                    murdering meek dolphins
                                    (a new kind meat?)

Aaaahhhh!! Glaciers!

Where did the dream retreat
since inside the heart
such god-awful self defeat,
parasitic minds diseased
conceding to the deceit
the demeaning breath of cheats
business deals to steal whats free
our realestate / atmosphere's
rainfall drink / carbon mono - die - oxidized
they steal our health
with monopoly money
the currencies of ivory and krill
founded by invasion's fathers
on Capitol Hill...

And still I am here
the repetitive melody from mystery
few ever listen to notice me
the diminished bird
I am in cruel gilded cages unheard
that song, the high, the prayers
beseaching and begging
with great big sighs
in the lungs, quivering
Aurora / souls / hovering
summer wind-chimes' cool mirth
Christmas births delivering
new hearts upon this earth
in ribs / & eye / you're golden
spiritual worth

The invisible motion of these here lives

Absolute in the truths to matter
make it / our home / to last forever
for all and one / down to the letter

Life is beautiful...
(not invisible)

If & when the world's made all better...

Man's golden lotus.
A wealth of divine wisdom.
Heavenly on Earth.

Deserts' tall mirage,
a hide like dry cracks of mud
stands fixed as still trees.

It's not easy speak
or a Speak Easy
when conversing with him,
dark'ling gremlin toothless grin
but he's your friend so I carry on
with Yoda in the corner of my mind
"judgmental you must be not"
and Comicon's collective excitement fading
as the light will do in the west...

We speak easy with the circling
of the communal pipe
crystal peace in mists of glass orbs
oil burner fog horns
piercingly in & between my ears
but its not so easy to ignore
the scent of death in his halitosis

We spoke of Superheroes
their idiosyncratic identities
His secret celebrity crushes  
envying Green Lantern’s ring finger
he speculates on Cyclop's orientation,

"Y don’t you make me an X man, professor?"

Informatively encyclopedic volubility,
Mike speaks queerly and toofless
yet well versed on oral
said he rims pacific beach boys
(And I can smell the white lies
wafting from his mouth)
as I color at his studly fairy tales
and his idolatry of prepubescent innocence
the hyper kind of *******
as he verbally recalls the taste of how sweet
the sweet untouched were...

"The most gorgeous boys I’ve ever seen
in **** or anyplace on the face of the planet
comes from and are probably ******* now
in Europe... Mmm, European boys...
I want to use my life’s savings to go there
enter the war zone and come back wounded..."

I can't even imagine
Shrapnel jacked backside, points and protrusions
grandiloquent mouths and holes full of
enunciations...

"Fourteen is the age of consent there..." he is smiling
a caricature of a wolf *** fang less
Such a pseudo wanna-be
possibly already
******* friend from the broken rainbow factory,
how I chuckle uncomfortably
shake my head disbelievingly

oh the humorous horror of it...

(I'm grinding my teeth, until I notice myself
doing so and get an image of him
with a gummy grin,
I preoccupy my thinking
nodding as I half-heartedly half listen)

You are a pebble
dropped in the pond of Life, all
storms are your ripples...

Sarcophagus walls
mummified stones to *****
compass pointing home.

Dark mundane corners'
hollow shadows are summoned
to Life's dancing flame.

Dear John* grips her tears.
Her life's breadth drains and runs down.
Hearts drown standing up.

Oh Gravitas,
dearest vineyard Spring
Avalon mists and quietude
on high Everest summit's
clarity

Oh winsome lover
how all your breezes kissing
cool on my young island skin
     learning in my wild solitude
     away from the lassitude
of desperate pangs of impoverished men
families of mine...

Why is it, in the crickets' strings
as they lull the day beyond
as the blood orange bruises to blues
and shadows to ocher
     the char on murdered campfires
     once full of dance, charismatic
     surfaces of twilight seas
why is it the only tinsil and sparkle
the coconuts know
     silver and neon golden
spirit fingers
and as I squat
early evening relieving myself
commingling with starlit you:
   
    My soft hush of song
Palm leaves and mangroves, indigo
invisible fingers strumming
the humidity like harps
     wind gusts, the bush, cavorts ...

summers without but all open windows

How close we were then
when I ran lonely in toddler ******
and all around me
your Gaia fairies in the brine
and precipitations...

(misty breath of crashing beaches
waves constant partcipation)

Without language I learned by you
ate the sour leaves and red peppers
stealing pan de sal in windows
     obvious village gifts for the sprites
that I believed I'd become,
     without fear or ingrained social dread
no anger, nor words making up
the links of invisible chains
to keep me within their boxes...

I understood
without diction
You were and are the loveliest
vision ever I've seen
ever I awed
at first sight / all of you/ around me
all mine
a pulse in my heart...

I wipe my *** with smooth papaya leaves
now that the night has conquered
the high ceiling
now the wonder twinkling
clearer now
your jewelry treasures of stars
dangling on a darker face as beautiful
as the heat of it bright
during the days / your face...

Oh love, even as a shadow
in the abyss of midnight,
in chill evenings,
I am the blaze of the fires,
a rustle through the brush
     a yipping cub
     snarling at playing
a Lion

All yours, My Goddess
I would keep you dearest to me
and prevent any danger
from any that would destroy or harm
the vary face of our world
its bountiful's : your loving
nature / life

How close we are
and ever will be
even in man's mechanisms of impending
war
even 'til the very end
together in the fires we raise
with the mornings praise
and in finale I will descend
take the fall
For you

Life of my life,
myself for you as sacrifice
just say when...
I'll be your champion
and best-est friend

(Against the horizon's backdrop
a shadow of a small boy
is shadow-boxing the emptiness around him)

I am Lamb and Lion.
P.S. I Love You.                
                                Sincerely - your Champion

Listen
Technicolor dream screen
Conditioned glob of a thing,

Synchronicity / listen / close
                                                 Electric sanity

All a pulse a puzzle
Abuzz in wandering  wonder
(In the brain)

Explosive rain / pains:
Alight
Each breaking bone
Thunder loud
Razor-heat bullet hole

You are mind
Always a flight
Even in respites' malingering
Wight
Ghosts
Living machinations
                            Of physical information
Kept / Wept
Even in plundering / times

Deformity

It is difficult to hear you
In the dark vale / veil shrouds
Truth...

Listen to all the pandering /
Crimes :
Symptomatic cacophony
Like pixelatious chaos
Snow of black & white

Void of hi-def depth
Just a box of a skull / **** tube / (blight)

Still flesh heavy
In the silt of reality's sleights

Conditioned for numb
To naught care / less aware
Chewing gum

As the wilderness from without
Floods
Cantankerous / gelatinous
Countries of grey
Matter
Overwhelming mind

Rather than mind over
                                Thought to spontaneous
Flame
Create universe
In your vox cave

So listen closer now
Such multitudes of crave
Life,ride focus to rife clarity
Imagination & knowledge - just the same
As sane and
Obtuse / for Over- use /
Voracity...


I am you
And you are I

I am the fire
Magic in the eye

If we are one
And one are we
Shed light in this space
Mountain / that is mine

Seeing is knowing
Stay true to thine
                     For you are mind
Technicolor wisdom now

Awake

No longer dead or blind /
Listen, no word need spat
This is the beginning of all that

We are infinite

Music
I hear You at last...

No enemy minds
Listen.

Black is not one color
                           but all of 'em in one

Black is not a face nor a person,
Not a baller nor ***...

it is the period when this sentence is done .

Maybe black is the ooze
that drowns sea and fish

or is it that ***** young'un
all hungry with wish

Black is certain as black is your eye
when you're fighting just to prove your right
(or keep one's rights alive)

Oh yes, black is what makes the stars shine bright
while under it--knocking boots aside...
no matter what, love is also made
in the darkest of nights...

So why would somebody
as golden as me
care about one crayon
or a stripe of a bee?

Because if nothing is wrong
then our skin shouldn't be
or much worse  --whipped til it bleed...

There is nothing more to say,
but let each embrace teach you

Question all history, but now just do you

as long as eyes can take a look
know your neighbor, love that crook
experience and love is not from a book.

Now I'll sit next to you
since we ride the same bus,
do you get to know my color
or speak to living dust?

Black may be just a word
that fear blinds from our trust

Still all the colors in one
black is beauty under the sun,

til time is rust, til gone is done...

So speak truly and be free
Love the same as all of us
Cherish blues and greenest trees
Since we do ride that same ole bus...


No words need screams or fistful hate
Cuz Black is Moonwalking
up to the Pearly Gates,
where the boogie cannot wait

and the blind finally wake...

"And all I have are the embers of your fires..."*


A Tambourine, and the evening is beckoning
through the distance
of time : a serpentine road / echoes
the colorful blouses and silks
the memory of love's fire
casting lithe shadows outside the starry nights
fat with celebration
merely a breath from the walls
of this weathered tent...

You were a storyteller on my skin
your lips like fireflies igniting the dark
where only the cold unseen
had gone untouched
until the blaze of the starlight horizon
engulfs without consuming or burning us

you are wildfire magic
the emperor stag or wolf or stallion
and the world is one kingdom
with many heirs
and bright castles

There is a fire for keeping warm
and a fire so hot to shape iron into swords
you are both
mines in minds of wilderness

Every camp we make
a home to hold the embers glow

perchance we stay and mold stronger roots
claim the dirt and dig for gold
place a hat and dub a crown
nothing lifts like wind on embers

when love is not around
life is without fire
no warmth can be rendered....

when your love is not around.

know you cannot take
something you already have;
love is yours to make.

Two Southern gentlemen,
plantation and slave owners,
bought and trained men to be the best money can buy

Now as the gulf of Mexico burns in the setting sun's fire,
they sit on one or the other's porch,
drinking hard lemonade, the night's stars
darkening ire

talking business of live stock
and the business of men's flocks
the possessions taking hold of manifest
and the destiny of days
here, where the bayou houses the cold blooded

crocodile swamps
mangroves of varied prey

the two masters drawl over thus gifts
plentiful bounties
the run of the land his forefathers conquered
the import of luxuries
goods and good with their hands

such machinations lead to displeasure
when the threat stems from
ebony treasures,
the stallion studs and fillies
like objects owned

not within the eyes will a predator recognize
that the hunger for the prey
is the same game  that masters and slaves
have played...
(better recognize)

''''''''
*"When did mine Negroes begin to behave so...so..."

"Niggaredly?"

"No such word exists to define their confounded hate-filled hearts..."

"Something called 'slang'--a intermingling of words to make a new one, with its own trademark definition!"

"What does one call someone with such irrational and erratic behavior?--such ****** in the eyes!"

"A ******..."

BLEEDING
When broken feels raw
as a throbbing from a cut,
truth must weep as deep.

CLARITY**
Tears are no longer
loose and quick to disarray
how sight understands.

MOJO
                    Jack Russel puppy
                    chase locusts in the tall grass
                    swift and quick of wit.

HEATHER**
                           Tuxedo Persian
                            kneads my chest / at bed-time / purrs
                            *Mama cat nanny.

...Not what you look for,
it's what you find every time
you see / the first time.

With a mindful heart's
luminous spirit, you will
love and not worship.

A light Summer's breeze
cools our cacophonous bodies,
hot stars in the night.

First the shuffling of the deck:

Major and minor arcanas face down on a thin cloth of silk, with both hands whirl and swirl about the cards, as how one shifts around tiles of dominoes, circular like. (Chaos spirals like galaxies of stars, as like most habits running us and our reality in circles.) Gather the splayed cards back into one deck, and place the hand of whom will beg the question on that pile of cards. Once the query is uttered out, from left to right, from God to mouth, spread the cards like feathers-- plumage off the wing. Thereafter have the one in question choose with mindful heart, the three choice cards: the Past, Present, & most probable of Yet to Be's, knowing oneself will behave accordingly to what will be (and here, how it now is seen.)


(1 Spread)

THE HANGMAN.
THE  MAGICIAN.
THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE.

(2 Spread)
THE ACE OF SWORDS.
THE HERMIT.
THE CHARIOT.

(3 Spread)
THE TOWER.
THE QUEEN OF CUPS.
THE SUN.


''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

(1 Spread - The Explicable Explanation)

THE HANGMAN. (The Past)
     How strange this estranged Arcane card should be the first, rather than last (its value of Zero presumed for the end) - it's illustrated depiction is that of a fool or dolt of man hanging upside down from the right foot while his left leg bends at the knee--oddly a numerical shape of 4, upside down. (In Orient Numerology, the #4 presumably has ties connected to death, therefore is viewed as a bad-luck number, how things soon will badly end with this symbol being around).
     Since this card is motivated by no other but its own significance, beginning the whole deck with the end of this fool's sacrificed existence, then it's value of zero has no importance, yet it's very meaning on the value of life makes it the only one above the rest. It is the ultimate trump card, and symbolizes Man's self sacrifice for nothing of monetary value but for another, for life, or for anyone or anything outside of themselves, above all else.
     In this position of *past and having only one card to paint a view of the query's life, days of yore before the now, it is as clear a picture as if it were a Polaroid. The one in question, the individual who begs the questions in this reading, has given much away to everyone else but him/herself, a selfless simpleton naive of the truth behind the faces that wear the curtain of his blind love. Happily obliged and worked hard at pleasing everyone, being ****** dry of chi from familiar vampires of family and serial friendships.
     Now it is has taken its toll, shaping this human being to whom he/she is now, having wasted much of one's self and one's time -- having neglected to experience much else of one's Experience. Yet like most who are invariably linked to tapestry of the Universe, we learn and awaken from our unknowing sleep, to feel and see and breathe much more of this existence we cannot deny--life... The past reminds and remembers, when the chaos and its pains make us forget, its your life, your journey, pay close mind and be attentive, there's no rewind or do overs, if there were--just say "know."

Live like your in the photos not the one snapping pictures.

'''''''