They cry turmoil thru my web-pages,
pages on pages of Tribunes and Suns and Times
and Quarterly

"Free Burma!"

it's all turkey and pig-latin to me,
just "dunno!"  like a dunce-capped miscreant,
inept of their vitriol

as i was not so great at geography
i got by before junior high.
Where-the-tarnished-nation is it?

"Free Burma!"

Notice the elephant in the room
like a whale named *****
attempting to escape
brothers of all of ours
engulfed in war
some ocean somewhere someone is dying;
notice that elephant in our laptops
ivory and blue tooth and iphones
telling me, showing us
to care
i do / want to
we should and we must
yes

"Free Burma!"

will i need to donate a dollar,
two, three? will i receive
a correspondence
of a child i am saving
a face of a country
i'm ignorant to...
           will it's big sad puppy eyes be
commercialized?

i am no less as educated for not
following the strife of thousands
   my own is as heavy here as an orca's leap

"Free Burma!"

what cage, bear or mouse trap
have they gotten themselves
and ourselves into?
if it's anything like Yayo or Martha
business
i have a better "good thing" to do

but if it is
like famines in Africa,
Mendelson, or Tibetan Monks
on strike with kung-fu skills
i will join U2,
(and if she's aware) with Oprah power
activate!
(fist to fist)
"i will be a well of spring-water!"
and she a holy cow, a worshipped saint

"Free Burma!!"

free water
free of fear
free everyone, i pray,
under this sky
wipe away all tears

free you of your worries
free of all chains
free of mines
free of lies and borderlines.

Free to be
together
free to live and choose to see

A planet a place
A peace

"Free Burma!"

Freedom
as one
community.

For you, for me.
Home.
Free...

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

The Strip is teeming
Youths high on debauchery.
Needs to feel alive.

Youth around the "Loop"
In flaming Hot-Pink boa.
Daisy Duke at Pride.

You say you fly

I say you’re high

Don’t even try, you just a duckling

Ugly hide please hide the **’s

Making babies cry, your face don’t know

I say you’re high

When you glamorize mass ******

school shootings

No coming back from this yo!

Acting hard to hide you / fearful

Child these dem streets, Tho’ tearful

Flabbergasted master faker, on the DL

Fugly mocking us - howdy **!

Don’t deny or say it’s fine, bro

If we’re still ****** struggling,

For something kind in everything.

Feel so low from getting high, a muggle ill

Broken system kills

All low or high hopes

Softly Or loud Apollo from The ghetto

like A show Of shadows hunted, marked

Blank tags on toes.

On New moon nights we're all dark,

But what about your heart?

Got soul, but lactose intolerant.

Hollering beauty Within feel not seen

dim lit neath twilight glow...

Don’t ******* me and say nothing - no.

I still say you’re high fo sho.

“**** Fugly mugs on drugs and everythang…“

Why oh why

Speak /Lie / or Trust?

“That’s life” Sang old blue eyes.

To Vegas or bust...

Don’t cry / **** / do or don’t

Then again ... (Pop pop pop! Goes the cop)

****!

(You’s All ****
Fugly!)

Means War Fosho..

Frivolity & fandango:

Unicycling urban brown bears

Nimbly they hula hoop!

Rain and loved ones' tears,
Black umbrellas encircling
Corpse in a coffin.

Their shuddering sobs,
Collapsing to genuflect:
Earthquakes of heartbreak.

Pet cemeteries,
Sunsets, lei upon the waves,
Float on to Elsewhere.

Boat engulfed in flames,
While on shore, drenched in sadness,
Slick black umbrellas.

That look upon his face

Like he’s angry toward creation.

Wonder how heavy does it weigh

That Old World reminder

Your Scarlet Letter

Strange for someone like you

As in love with the future as I am

Peering through a looking glass

Upon the rings of Saturn

How it must weigh upon you

When you telescope the night sky

Refracting mirrors, by candle light

Do you worry, or did you then,

About GOD’s Privacy

Or did you about the men then

As mean as those now

Employed by said Almighty

Them powers that be

Do you, like I do, when I worry,

Redirect perspective

Wouldn’t you rather not

But be entranced by the beauty

The frightening void of the infinite

Interstellar Galactic outer space-time

The greatest unknown

Where not a man with all his worries

Weighs at all heavy

Not the cross you carry not a soul

On Earth and all her history

(life at last)

Here —We’re all playing Asteroids.

Not to worry, true belief requires having class,

Still, you have vision & the looking glass.


P.S. Avoid the Mongoloids…

Grass grown at home, ******* dances at “the studio”

And then arrives crack, black, speed, & degradation

Needles and needfulness, both get tucked in.

“Just waiting on my guy to re-up at the Meadows…”

As Calypso drums and reggae plays to mellow yellows.

Sunday morning pews
Adorned with virginal blooms
The white scent of church.

Giiirl, nah uh, no you didn't...

Anyways, back to moi, how do I look?

Yesterday his name was Manny, now it's in transition...

Snaps her fingers in circle motion, rubbernecking.

The garden gumbo;
wounded greens and vegetables,
soul less flotsam soup.

How   Time     creeps
In the shadows
Of our worries, fearing
Becoming suddenly all alone, feeling
Memorial.
Remember those New Year's Eves
The Big Apple & Lights
Iceskating at Central Park.
How
Time,
Brief
In the shadow's following
Wha? Afraid of getting
Geriatric?
Got Old?
Fear not the Dark
At departures' arrivals.
You have it all, knowing it's nothing at all
Time gives     meaning
If Love aint
Nothing. Shhoot...

How Time ... creeps ...

(All part of growing up)

Get in a last word, since silence is golden,
then in the end all that is spoken
betrays the honest truths
the value of sharing a meal
sustenance to feel
fulfilled, now that talk is cheap...

Be more profound to take me aback
like a gust of wind through hallowed doors
to the hollows of burial and sage and prayers
where subservience of love
denies the body of its flesh
to please the ephemeral ghosts...

yes, tell me how deep your adoration's lashes
if all the deserts we've traversed
meant as much as the time of my worth
will it bleed--those words for me?
Are your words as bread or food
uplifting in the roots of you?

I am no shepherd nor are you a herd of sheep,
a flock unable to fly without a mind to think
I am just another king like  any like you
the last word at the rabble
a dying flame from the candles drinking wine,
beneath the sky of olives and infinite eyes
here with the stain of un-seeing
in search for a well that will not dry
for a familiar day of kind of rain...


Tell me what's a good word without one
made   by ****** hand of man,
one that is like music / laughter
a celebration's feast
teach me instead,

and please don't preach...

What worth is made when words are bade
like a trader of slaves to whom he's paid,
or a master in his own house at a maid?
Such business is moot in its absolutes,
                 a kiss on the cheek without a word
multiplicitious and astute
obvious in the eyes of company kept
                  brother in the dark I heard wept

A tree in shadows hangs the rotten fruit

Ananke
dangles like most words must do
from the mouth must taste as dung
often done -- invisible daggers to the heart
untruths
then less and less of brotherly caress

nor some kind of familiar can be found
no infinite wonder

the one and only one

You,
whom I have been
preparing to be made new,
to wake from the pain of this blister
these mirages we hunger and run to,
don't speak what I want to know
I already have seen the final show
and words are only words
unheard by the deaf heavens
selective with their ears to cherubs glee
what is found when the One above
or any of the many stars that see
our globe in desert blizzards,

ill regard as plenty as snow
nothing of the kind, or good in kind,
what word equals

the image of everlasting
Oh
just a sip ...?

There are only so many words
in a universe of infinite light
language can be made like jars of clay

simple like breaking (of hearts and day)

if eyes were speaking through our tears
how loud must we shout "Love"
before there's nothing that's enough
to keep us thusly
home not just merely
an EYE to clear / and still, I am
with you                                         here.

Push away the old world words
that once poured into my cup,
I want home to be as heaven is esteemed
take this cup away from me
blood of transcendant poetry...

Get in a last word, since silence is golden,
then in the end all that is spoken
betrays the honest truths
the value of sharing a meal
sustenance to feel
fulfilled, now that talk is cheap...

Be more profound to take me aback
like a gust of wind through hallowed doors
to the hollows of burial and sage and prayers
where subservience of love
denies the body of its flesh
to please the ephemeral ghosts...

yes, tell me how deep your adoration's lashes
if all the deserts we've traversed
meant as much as the time of my worth
will it bleed--those words for me?
Are your words as bread or food
uplifting in the roots of you?

I am no shepherd nor are you a herd of sheep,
a flock unable to fly without a mind to think
I am just another king like  any like you
the last word at the rabble
a dying flame from the candles drinking wine,
beneath the sky of olives and infinite eyes
here with the stain of un-seeing
in search for a well that will not dry
for a familiar day of kind of rain...

Tell me what's a good word without one
made   by ****** hand of man,
one that is like music / laughter
a celebration's feast
teach me instead,

and please don't preach...

What worth is made when words are bade
like a trader of slaves to whom he's paid,
or a master in his own house at a maid?
Such business is moot in its absolutes,
                 a kiss on the cheek without a word
multiplicitious and astute
obvious in the eyes of company kept
                  brother in the dark I heard wept

A tree in shadows hangs the rotten fruit

Ananke
dangles like most words must do
from the mouth must taste as dung
often done -- invisible daggers to the heart
untruths
then less and less of brotherly caress

nor some kind of familiar can be found
no infinite wonder

the one and only one

You,
whom I have been
preparing to be made new,
to wake from the pain of this blister
these mirages we hunger and run to,
don't speak what I want to know
I already have seen the final show
and words are only words
unheard by the deaf heavens
selective with their ears to cherubs glee
what is found when the One above
or any of the many stars that see
our globe in desert blizzards,

ill regard as plenty as snow
nothing of the kind, or good in kind,
what word equals

the image of everlasting
Oh
just a sip ...?

There are only so many words
in a universe of infinite light
language can be made like jars of clay

simple like breaking (of hearts and day)

if eyes were speaking through our tears
how loud must we shout "Love"
before there's nothing that's enough
to keep us thusly
home not just merely
an EYE to clear / and still, I am
with you                                         here.

Push away the old world words
that once poured into my cup,
I want home to be as heaven is esteemed
take this cup away from me
blood of transcendant poetry...

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

Going Green all the year round

Leads to strikes from tree-huggers wound

As road raging Cadillac runneth them over.

Cold winter melts as fishermen over plunder.

In our human chapters of hubristic excuses,

Earth fracked, death by corporate Amusement.

Races all face mother nature storming in,

Slow still drowns with the Hare… better learn how to swim.

Love is the goddess that birthed gravity, bringing together all things alight, alive, the deepest darkest parts of reality. Of course life tests those who would believe or dream, love is her there upon your sleeve, worship is the heart easily lost, when it's business is at all cost. If she is your true religion, belief a dove --not a pigeon. Sacrifice what's seen with how it feels, make that inner magic real. Goddess lights what's true inside, what tears reveal.
Love is the Goddess (come to life. No need to kneel.)

I doubt I’ll make
It
To
Forty-five.
I’ll
Be
Smiling.

Long line for noodles...
Symbol of emperor's wealth:
A mythical beast.

Beyond the Ort cloud
Awaits interstellar space,
The great dark empty

The vast void between
The Galaxies--dwarf planets;
Life dies to follow.

Time lies beyond us
All we get are quick snapshots
Rings and the Red Eye.

Beyond the Ort cloud
In the deeps 'tween galaxies
Time's great distance sleeps.

Good Night Cassini .

What breath in this chest I take
Take like the night at Dawn's wake
Wake as eyes must at our birth
Birth and pulse of a Heart's worth...

What shame I now must hold and own
Own as ball to chain, as flesh to bone
Bone deep to have been wrongly had
Had like used knick-knacks, paddy-whacked...

And yet, what colors made a learned soul
Soul as bright as faithful to All who's Whole
Whole of the infinite universe made absolute
Absolute to know my love blind and my hate mute

No one to speak to, no words for proof
Proof of life pursuant to heaven's roof
Roof without rooms for an emperor
Emperor, what am I but a seed to the conifer?

What am I to him, who dresses his sons in gossamer?

Regret will age you
As old as your “soft-shoe” moves.
Painting by numbers.

Spray with Hi Def paint.
Bullet holes tagging Main Streets'
Loud walls *remember.

At Shady Meadows,
Retired senior moments:
Bingo & crosswords.

Grass groomed by Vitamin D.
Rude boys wear Tiger’s golf gear, crispy.
Each day we wake replacing “Angry”
Ether & beer for Trees.
No longer in a funk, or drunk, fallen asleep.

It’s the serpent’s summer

The cold blooded basking in the heat

Like those beating down

From the furious Sun,

Like these from the bleeding of brotherly

And Families / communities

At each other’s throats.

War, at its core, is the mouth of hate

Hell mouth of chaos

The slow death

Of days

We only annihilate our futures past

To be nothing

The finite fate

Of once was— now no more,

A man who is his own riddle

To defeat none

But oneself

To wake to thy own mistakes.

Thy own sakes …

Make it there—a better day

I am certain

After the serpent eats it’s tail

A tale to fabricate

Make our own happy Everlasting

Light of Life

I’ll dream you, my love,

The new heaven

I give you my heart

Oh light of my life!

Everlasting.

Childhood is often seen in
Experiences
Like observations second hand
Snapshots
From inside circus photobooths
Selfies
All day
Way, No way!
Convince ourselves to smile
Unconvincingly
Grin.

"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.

Idyllic Kingfisher
Your plumage stills seas to bliss,
Blushing midnight Suns.

Even in the silken
folds of Egyptian cotton
sheets, cream colored
Trims of emerald green,
Your endless thread counts
caress me to sleep

Yet

i could care less,
my exhaustion neither
because exhaust is not finicky...
While your house boy collects
Dust & double-coupons
To & for discount
Hillcrest hours
Expensive toy
Boy, can’t breathe it in
When someone else
Is paying
Playing suedo sugar daddy
But the boy is not naïve

Yet
No one knows nothing of him
Voluntarily
A party favor for war-buck’s whim

Yet
the finer things are pleasing, yes,
name brands & the highest quality, sure,


anything that's beautiful evokes the senses
to heavenly realms / needlessness
uncut, craving our envy's delightful cures
yes, it's the sign of the  best life possible
silver-spoon-fed fixations / impressionable
yet, i could care less

what can gold do to my loneliness?

Take me then to rustic restaurants,
unique plastique, avant-garde displays,
shows sponsored by platinum praises
dine on savory talents
of chefs schooled in the foreign flare,
antiques,
designer and pillars for legs of chairs
when we are seated by french or Spanish
accented, italian-gorgeous hosts;

i am nervous to touch the silver-ware & china,
hands on lap, feeling underdressed
Fancy was once
a name of a thoroughbred horse
and i can tell you : i could care less...

(to) purchase paintings, of water-colored races,
space travel prints of captains,
baseball fields on oil-based paints,
a canvas of a life truly lived, in spite
of loss and your will
to have another person entirely
devout to only one, fulfilled;

to clothe me is to hold me with certainty
to never stray, devoting every fiber of one's being
is short of nothing blessed
without a doubt,
without this gold Visa, i'm not at all even
stressed.
Oh and my allowance,
...i could care less...

Take out the trash : unimportant minutes
washing laundry, a grocery list,
self-less favors, my lovely prince
these are my only ability's gifts
with ***,   physical,
physical, let's get
on a tryst / on the last of my loyalty, a kiss
as true as saturated
in bliss this is - close to perfect
i can feel... and i wonder still what my soul is worth
when i have nothing and you're distracted,
strung away by fractal messiness
internet libations and invitations for foxholes
as you creep / as you sling . . .

yes, i am easy to fool
and yet, i still could care less...

However many times i fracture
i continue to adore, my infinite upheaval,
demigod in flesh you are / my worship

it is a curse to love you so
i could care less with what you buy me,
give me heaven sent truth,
instead
ignite me with the power of the softness
of your devotion, unhooked
stars in destined romance & sonnets
a fusion of lust and trust
intertwined
i only care for a simple touch
for some meager time to be near you,
that is what i call divine . . .
i could care less of the golden,
riches are free - never sold
they reside among the folds of lips and nips
on sides and tongue-ride on n*s,
once cold . . .

so keep the bank accounts empty
vacations ? i could care less !
half lies in gifts don't keep me
but in faithful arms,
yes . . .
i am yours completely
gladly and forever / in your power,
in this, our lovely, lovely
mess . . .
always know
you are
always forgiven . no regrets.

i happened Free-Zone
not to hunt
for coercion or collision
i came to begin
again, without a diet of another
no one to occupy
just myself tonight to slight
yet in the euthenics
of smokers in their alcoholic snares,
in the hotch potch laughter
of girth-guised relics
i notice you
sang-froid solution
against the shriven wall
your own tempered poison in hand
eyes teaching me
how to thaw my disregard
lips in a cruising smile
specific for my purchase
but i was here to forget
the imbrications of lies
the past life
of being bitten


still notice you noticing me
grant no one contours
contiguous to friendship,
not now
on a night of nursing
nut-hatched hurts
when i'm not searching,
i came to drown in drink
with archives of broken vows
new porcelain hearts break
each crack - a lie
each bruise and tear
cut like each cackling
of frozen, deceptive hosts
whom i allowed
assuage
my time a home


tonight i'm learned
my turn
to snick and sneer
my turn to steer the wheel...

they all want me, here
yet you are there:
smooth warning, cool leaning
against the shriven wall
solid notions of promise
which warrants a platform
and so i found myself
migrating toward self
compromise.


i happened to you, then
in your nascent nape
and in my moment of molten need
i genuflect

in prayer
for more than persuasive phantasms
rather overlapping warmth
over joyed
in the beauty of great duration
over that thing most token
defined by trusting
the truths of this emotion
but not too often spoken:
       too early to call it
       a thing
but you happened
to open my wings


L

O

V

E

The Lemon parade,
Lay in the bed that you made.
Learning the hard way.

It’s better to wake early on
And experience the moments ahead
Wholeheartedly present

“Early bird catch that worm”
And notice the morning Grows
Feeling yet we forget to glow.

It’s better to know
This is Life
And this is Dying... get Woke

Whole heart & soul.

A hundred degrees
At Eight in August mornings
Sin city can burn
The weak of will to vices
Make moon and wolves come running.

Vegas Summers: 'sweatin' like a ****** on discount dollar days.

Holler from across—way yonder…
Endearments and farewells;
Leporine leaps lithe laughter,
Love letter greetings grandiose!
Open lotus welcomes Sun.

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...

Who could condemn the clouds
for its dream and rendition of heaven
in vanilla cotton canopies
like steam trails from wishful
twilight's great sleeping

who could refuse the stars
that connects distant years from space
to wonderment's eyes here,
gazing up tonight agape at its mystique

when the machine mach march
of industry and city din spinning
in smog loud air - percussions down
to the edge of the shore

where silver sheen of onyx
black stillness of the water laps
licking the earth in its soft reality
the moon-glow and darkness

with its unseen places keeping slumber
in silent throes or weeping woes
still, I ache to cease the gnashing
of teeth - Barbary and conquering…

those who are unseeing in great haste
With worry and loss of a moment's look
theirs given to everything
outside themselves, mistook.

Who blames heaven, not knowing how
we lead a song yet never loving its vow?
Search for more of offerings
yet not even aware of how
blessed we are
here and now...?