Barefoot Vegan

A Subconscious Fear of Humanity: Part I

2012-01-25T19:21:00.000-05:00

If I were to grasp hold of your fingers
Slide them into my mouth and rub my tongue in between
Tasting your salts and spices, imbibing you, your substance, your refuse
Would you find me eccentric, perhaps abnormal?
Would your stomach turn from the lout that I am, woebegone?
Does my dialogue of this, of my desires, frighten you to turn your eyes my way?
Fear of a shuddersome glance, a wanting? Perhaps a fantasy of you with a dick in your ass? My dick?
I do not, for I cannot have a mind of reproach for you for your fear
Stories, tales of the raped, the defiled, broken
I cannot imagine the fear you must posses of me
Perchance, would you clear your mind? Give a thought on humanity?
By chance, then, could it be that you have been fixed, washed to fear?
Would you offer a pondering moment for imagining me as a tender, sweet man?
For that is what I am, no disservice intended. But in the least, I offer an apology, my dear

The Death Song

2012-01-21T22:19:00.002-05:00

It is the night
a night of lustful banes,
of broken limbs caressing,
a night of cynical satires,
of dejected children's bones strapped with skin,
a night of smothered babies,
of men pregnant with flame,
a night of coarse faces straddled by tongues,
of hairy places raped with envy,
a night of fire blankets over the moon,
of black-tailed feathers in loose places,
a night of gentle pedophiles bracing,
of track marks and bloody nose stains,
a night of laughing murder dancing down the broken-bottled street,
of whimsical figures speaking words of peace behind gritted teeth,
a night of suicidal cities overdosed and decayed,
of sacred temples desecrated in the rectumry
It is the night we sing The Death Song

On Disunity (A Pro)

2012-01-17T08:14:00.004-05:00

"Be the change that you wish to see in the world."
What does this mean?
At first thought it seems naught but a simple action
But the verb, the action of this phrase, the "be", leaves ambiguity
Ambiguity is dangerous and menacing when done with no disciplined conviction
It must be realized what is at stake once the "be" is manifested in deed
Whether you have multitudes of people, two, or just one, working for the same goal
There can be no disunity in the praxis of this idea, otherwise nothing is done
It immediately transforms into a figure eights
People do not know whether to support the ends that you wish to create or deny it
In the end, when there is disunity, when there is malice or violence in word or deed
Taste buds are soured and it is realized that the ends do not, nor have they ever, justified the means
How can I say this? Peace and war, justice and injustice surely have worked together at times
No. What this has created is merely a physical submission of the will, a falling-in-line
No minds have been changed, no souls have been satisfied, no justice has truly been done
For in this disunity no ends have been created at all, simply more ambiguities

Walls

2012-01-15T21:45:00.000-05:00

Washy meshes of color
Messy, bright sights of candy land manifested before my eyes
Things I thought only existed in fantastical ideas

Walls, the walls! Oh! The walls!
Jiffies from losing my eyes
I missed you all this time

An Ecstasy in the Frozen World

2012-01-13T13:33:00.000-05:00

There is a cat staring out the window, watching the snow fall
The sight of his amusement urges my curiosity of the cold
We have not yet experienced much of the cold this year, I think
Without hesitation or allowing time to dress in a coat or even to slip on shoes
I step outside into the stupefying bite of the desultory wind
With my bare feet already numb I drift my feet through the snow
Mother, I ask, why does this state of our subsistence turn so hostile in nature?
An answer to this, or even a comforting reply, there is not.
So, knowing full well that I am present and my presence exists in blue blood,
I accept my surroundings, see them as beautiful, or, rather, it as beautiful
In my presence I realize where she, my Mother, is
All around, encompassing me as a forest and its mud-ridden moss
I am suddenly aroused to strip the clothing from my body
I do this without hesitation in fear of cold, or numbness, of frost-bitten limbs
Completely in a naked state, both the skin on my body and the essence of my soul
I clamber somewhat gracefully through drifts and prickly stubs of summer's past weeds
Spotting a pile of frozen fog under a hibernating tree I sit and sink in, think for a while
Here I forget my freezing state and my aroused faculties only escalate
Grabbing hold, back and forth, up and down, up and forth and down and back, and I finish
Mother, you have provided me with an ecstasy in the harsh beauty of your world
And for this, I am greatly blessed

Moon-Dried Spindle

2012-01-12T17:43:00.001-05:00

it's like a moon-dried spindle atop a pine cone wreath
no property of an absent saturation but a stiff glowing blue needle
oh! how i should like to strum it against my body
yes, every part of me, conjugating myself to an instrument of music
the greatest tone that could be heard
though more than a days walk away from perfection

Intrinsic Freedom

2012-01-12T13:03:00.001-05:00

men: children of all genders and the likes of all ages
intrinsically born into freedom
to be bound into slavery, to concede to it
you have welded and bound your own cage
our surfaceness in bondage to a master or power is no choice of ours
but to relinquish your blessed gift of elemental freedom
be it to a force greater than thyself, a self-edifying habit, a political party
it matters such, less than the cooling breeze
be not a slave in your selves, your beings
pledge no allegiance to no flag, to no man, to no state of authority
but love one another in grace and unity and, most explicitly, in purity

Alone in the Wilderness

2012-01-06T00:01:00.000-05:00

alone in the wilderness
a cold of despair
i had always believed that people hurt
but not you, my friend, not you
it is my jealousy, is it not?
even the effeminate one sweeps her up
as i am again and again and again swept under
it is said that to hide in the solitary
(the isolated nature of the wilderness
the bitter cold, frozen nights and gray days
a beautiful existence to me, at least in a way)
is to only trap yourself to torment of your own demons
on the contrary
i am just as solitary in the wilderness among men
so then i always remember ( )

The Corner of the Sunrise and Today

2012-01-04T13:19:00.001-05:00

I was beset, my body extended like a sprawl across my cozy bed
Rolling onto my bony but cushioned side I noted the time, six and fifty-eight a.m.
'Tis time to begin the day I thought to myself, as demanding a notion it was
But I love the mornings and my motivation prodded me from my comfort
Up I rose, physically sluggish, though a feeling briskly altered by my sudden enthusiasm
I stripped from my body the palatial attire I wear in the eve', stepped from my trousers
Completely naked I was and then glanced to peer at my reflection in the glass
What a cool sensation I had that my morning wits began to jostle about within
Quickly I dressed in ragged pants and a pocketed shirt, slippers in hand
It must have seemed a skipping, awkward dance if one were to catch a glimpse of me
For as I contentedly bustled down the stairs I clumsily slipped those slippers on my feet
Stepping onto the kitchen floor my eyes caught the sight of the coffee pot, unbrewed
I tossed in a few pitches of those grounds, quite a top heavy proportion to the water
Water, oh the thought made my hairs erect like quills and I quivered
But as my mind returned to the thought of my hot coffee to come, steaming and black and strong
I was comforted and belated to know I would soon be with it, making a toast to the sunrise
In wait I slipped into the washroom and relieved myself, oh what a feeling
Scrubbing with soap I cleansed my hands and back to the kitchen in a trod
I spotted my mug, my favored mug, and poured me some coffee mid-brew
Then out I went, out the door and into the still, frigged morning air
My fingers grasped a cigarette, stuck it between my lips and with a flame they lit it and I sucked in
Ah, the always steady and familiar but satisfying sensation of that smoke in my lungs
With an exhalation I let it go and watched it mingle with my breath in the air
I sipped my coffee and down it went, through my esophagus and into my core, so, so very warm
G-d met me on the corner of the sunrise and today, and I thought to myself, oh, what a wonderful day

Awakening

2011-12-29T22:24:00.001-05:00

It is not a provocative kind of day
Not of despair nor of spite
But a day purely contingent with contemplation
It is a cold day, more precisely, a frozen day
Clouds are low in the sky, peppering the ground with snow
And my mouth, as a smoke stack, produces chilled air, steaming
Feet numb and postured firmly on the jagged soil
I do not think, nor do I pray
For contemplation has deeper roots
An awakening in subjection to Love
A release of the outer shell that I have named "I"
Leaving naught but my realness, my oneness, with G-d

A Homely Man's Metaphysics

2011-12-28T20:38:00.000-05:00

touch the breast of this homely man
let his metaphysical wanting suffuse
dance toes to finger tips in the snow
frigged ground; naked feet; bare bodies
purple lips cracked and sore
stump-worth feet
we play a balancing game
fall and struggle upward until spines are direct
or somewhat
(g/d) will give us love here
not a feeling nor an emotional disposition
for after all we are numb in every sense
but an opening upward release of our inner selves
like steamed exhalations from our lungs
it is not our nakedness nor our hopeless weaknesses
but our a priori yearning fulfilled
yet again, not in peace, nor resolution, or even comfort and rest
but a choice of freedom to the will of love
mystical joy embodies our persons
no despair, no happiness, only joy
in the snow with your frozen hand on my chest we love

I Repent

2011-12-14T00:53:00.001-05:00

i act on what pains me
to soften discomforting blows
i repent
for it is my own self
my own wayward nature

Precarious

2011-12-13T22:01:00.000-05:00

you fell into a well
precarious place to be
taught between brick walls
and a soft place
total discontentment where you live
the soft gelatin-like algae is quite, well, soft
far too soft for your thick skin
but the bricks with their rugged surfaces
chafes and tares in and upon your body
chapped lips from kissing your bricked lovers
torn rectum from the dildos you have wedged
lubricated by your new algae friends
ignorant to your loneliness
gangrene in your feet and on your tongue
the cylindrical walls around you
far too slippery to climb
this will in your well become your grave
you will decay and forever lay
but you never wanted to evade anyway

Ambiguity

2011-12-12T22:14:00.002-05:00

no light
no darkness
no modal substance between
not eyes to see
nor any sense to experience
only the mind
in a place indescribable in any tongue
ideas and idioms, reason
there are none
not even the 'none' which describes
even adjectives cannot and do not exist
for how can one posses a description for that which there is no reference
a mind, my mind is necessarily present
time itself is a confined thought lost in an illusion
ambiguity
my hands are dry and not wet as a result of my mind's self indulgence
but where even can thoughts subsist where there is not a reference
the very idea of existence at all
conceived of origins that i do not know
perhaps i am god
simply self chained in majesty

Sugar Coated Crystals and a Dancing Fog

2011-12-07T21:15:00.000-05:00

leaves have fallen and in their place
a ground peppered with sugar like crystals
the breath from my lungs frozen as it protrudes from my mouth
blends within tobacco smoke escaping my nose
carrying off in the still air like a dancing fog
my feet planted still but yearn to walk
if for only a moment i could sense the frozen ground
but my heart is still, silent and listening
for it is only in these times of frozen bliss
that i am purely clear and open to the silent voice of G-d
no romance or dreary thought may penetrate my mind
for my quiet awe cannot be wrestled down
i am not my body nor am i my mind
my true image comes forth from my dust
and it is not a single, isolated creature but a presence
fare thee well my dear broken body
for my place is in love with my Father, my Mother, my G-d

The War Room

2011-11-23T20:26:00.000-05:00

Example they say
More important than words
As walking opposed to tales of such
Proceeding exchanges of peace
They enter "the war room"

One Being

2011-11-14T19:10:00.000-05:00

we are one being
the earth and us
the wild and growing greens
born of the same dust
we are one being

Imago Dei

2011-11-14T00:33:00.002-05:00

the form of peace and love
and of grace is g-d
existence does not depend
but is this abstract perception
hir eyes are as butterflies
hands roots of the trees
imago dei
not only we children
tattletale riddled and running
withal subsistence and metaphysics
upon a glance at our mother moon
tipple in a spot of air and imagine
wholly beautiful se must breathe

Wild Flowers

2011-11-09T20:28:00.000-05:00

you are a beautiful wild flower
luminescent of the sweetest of scents
and as you are
(as ironic a gesture it remains)
so i am
there are no thorns to love
only the purest flowers of the earth
kiss my petals with yours
wriggle your roots up into mine
elderly and the smitten
present us as a natural symptom
of empathy, sympathy towards a confuted
of romantic scores to inveigle a simple heart
taste us and imbibe our beauty into your lungs
we are the simplest, conceived in soil
may our simplicity whet you to love

My Best-Loved Hour

2011-11-08T01:36:00.000-05:00

my best-loved hour is when i sleep
for no reality occurs in my dreams
or is it perhaps the other way around
perchance my most real encounters
befall within my dreams
after all
i dream in colors that no one has ever seen
maybe my life
just maybe
is simply a bad dream

The Dancing Life of Love

2011-11-06T01:34:00.001-04:00

your heart is not as hard as you think
cracked stone in the biting cold
where darkness of night turns away from the sun
but my child
there are beautiful things
though i know full well that despair is a thorn
you will open your chest and find colorful portraits
flamboyant and miraculous it will seem
like fresh strawberries and warm cups of tea
thickening the grass with your body
eyes open wide to the night sky
but your shades bring out the dancing life of love
in this love a tree will grow
and love all its feathered and bourbon friends
dimness is only perceived by the whites of our eyes
so my child
love your form and the way you go
your life is loved in detail and in fine print
as a drip of paint on a monastery wall
or a shrine
so you see
your heart is not as hard as you think

Sluts and Savages

2011-10-30T23:44:00.000-04:00

there are no words on my tongue
for not a single word can be said
visions and starch melancholy woes
dance around burning acid in my head
like demons or children of men
violence of heart tongue and body
fornication fucked so willfully in
sluts and savages are we so folly
pain in my chest throbs all about
as the world frets not so adjacently set
giving chains and a gun behind innocent men
blinded by intelligence we are i suspect

Picture Frame

2011-10-24T21:36:00.000-04:00

there is a child
he is not picture perfect
not even does he fit inside a frame
they come in ovals circles and squares
but no box, my boy

The Chords of Our Lives

2011-10-24T21:19:00.001-04:00

if you were to kiss me upon my forehead

perhaps placing your lips near the line of my hair

my spine would be prodded to a shattering tingle

the long hairs upon my pasting chest would rise

i would take off my clothes and you the same

and we would be one in ecstasy and in elation

our marks being imprinted inside of ourselves

one to the other

through pain and glorious times of night

our ravishment would arise in contentment

and though our strings be out of tune

dissonant as they may abide

the sounds of the earth would be our choir

of boys and girls and men and angels

our dissonance would reside as a harmonious gesture

to the chords of our lives

A Disfigured Boy I Know

2011-10-18T21:14:00.002-04:00

there is a disfigured boy i know
oddly shapen for he was oddly sewn
despondently in love with another
so beautiful and full of laughter
a deep friendship arose
and thus his love grew
but turned away for his wretchedness
now he will never find his love
for she does not in this world reside

A Timeless Mind

2011-10-18T16:19:00.002-04:00

no word or line of thought knitted throughout
like stitches from a noxious wound
my mind is broken
how can i write if i cannot grip this pondering spirit?
times of despair
an inspiration
but yet a cage letting a body to a state of languish
caramelize me for my mind is all i have
to love and ponder and listen and speak
a timeless mind while time strolls mirthfully on and on

Joy and Despair and Tears

2011-10-12T14:02:00.000-04:00

My heart is as a tree
Its beautifully colored leaves ebb to the earth
There was a time when I had no leaves
I was numb and I had no tears of joy nor of despair
I was a ghost; an airing dead
Ensuingly with a slow mire buds began to form
My heart began to feel again even within such a lacking progression
And with each moment of growth my spirit giggled like a child
Joy and despair alike caused tears
Oh the relief of such watery and trickling tears!
They welled and dropped down my flushed cheeks
Like a river washing me clean of the rind I had dragged so long
As my summer winds dwindled and autumn chill took its place
My leaves turned red and golden and orange
A beautiful conundrum of my soul yet so lovely to my eyes
But alas these leaves began to fall and now bring me to the present
A more mellow ecstasy than before
I cannot reach out for them for branches cannot do such a thing
Oh how I whim to have them back upon my breast
But all one can do is live in each moment of blessedness
Slowly disintegrating away as it may be
So I hold fast to what emotion I still have been gracefully bestowed
For I know that even when I am bare and lost once again
I will still love my fellow beasts and live in hope of Hir grace

Helpless

2011-10-05T19:56:00.000-04:00

there is an inchworm tugging at my shoe
a crow pecking at my eyes
not harmful to me as a purpose
shadows and hungry spirits of the earth
suffering and dejected
suffering and loved
whatever
i swing my arms in pain and misery
helpless to help the helpless
for that is what we are is it not?
bound by treasures and tied by poverty
helpless
we are all helpless
and i cannot live anymore

Stained Glass Eyes

2011-10-04T12:37:00.000-04:00

mittens so softly woven dab at my face
stained glass eyes affixing intimately to mine
warm feather tipped hair squired by hums
hums that say "i love you"
no words between us
simply peaceful energy flowing to and fro
my very dearest friend

Our Gardners

2011-09-30T14:50:00.000-04:00

they have fixed us
they have fixed us into being that which we cannot be
an entire life spent upon a ladder to consummation
boys ride tractors and little ladies weave baskets
choice is dead and so fitting is our freedom to wither
no water spared and no sunlight to grow
nothing but clouds and the dead of a bitter winter
free countries point and shoot at dissonantly clouded cities
and the backfire slaps us upon our own cheeks

On the Affliction of My Loves

2011-09-27T14:09:00.000-04:00

a million thoughts plague my head coalesced among an ill body
the breeze gently caresses my body and quiet music embraces my ears
like a beautiful one holding my whimsical figure to soothe
but none not even a single proposition of clarity and warmth balm my tribulation
my afflicting thoughts are not subjective in deliberation but are for you and my loves
my nostrils weep and so concurring are the whites of my eyes as a drizzle of rain
my lips are wet with it and so do the hairs upon my face drench
this is no narrative of coexistence but a portrait of every soul
i know not of every soul but only a few
but as my thoughts postulate of dwellers atop the soils of this earth my spirit sees
to the very roots of my substance my eyes behold a city of anguish
helpless and feeble am i to console a ceaseless and vast wretchedness upon my loves
not to utter or even speak of the grief that so entwines itself among the masses
so very meekly i touch broken doors and hidden woes of hearts cherished and abreast
as a three fingered boy stroking melodies on a piano culled from tune
alas not exploited but firm in volition i persist to touch
for does not this allow my being even a dismal reason to live?
i do believe as such
therefore i carry on though so very melancholy in resolve
provoked to sustain and uphold this afflicted beast called man
in realization of the tangibleness and passion of love

Only Us

2011-09-21T19:36:00.002-04:00

press your lips against my heart
send your passion through my vessels
walk with me in our agony
hold my hand and imagine a beautiful tune
singing and humming behind us
slow and low as the sound of the earth
rising in number as it fills the air
we are provoked to dance and sway in one step
the star speckled skies painted with the moon
while a purple light fades and becomes everything
nothing exists
only you
only me
only us

On the Learned and Unheard

2011-09-20T22:09:00.007-04:00

i beset myself on an island out of place
was it i? or was i placed there so brashly timid?
by forces beyond my understanding

beyond any descriptive tongue i cannot utter

alone i sit in my joy and despair and in my own thoughts
when the sun rises and when the sun sets and every moment in between
time is an ambiguous idea and i am oblivious to the notion
for what is pronounced an end is only as far as our perceptions allow us to see
ruminate on this and take a moment to understand
our minds were blank and clean as infants of the earth
and then so quickly formed and scribbled upon by our most governing ambience
even as a man hearing this piano roll i feel embedded to assume its beauty not of my own blessing
but of a concocted and slow evolution of mindless clay
with all my power i pull and struggle and gnaw away at these hinderences so firmly grounded
i feel such sickening things as these slip ever so painfully and slowly
but my will prods me to go on in cleansing my mind making it taintless and free once again
free to soak in the earth and the universe around it and the energy
oh the energy and life in and among everything
harmony it brings and i only have stroked my fingers upon the surface
ruminate on this and take a moment to understand
i love another soul so deeply and so purely that i want to press my naked body against hers
time and time again do i want to passionately love and fuck her soul and body as one
but what does a man know of love?
we have given a name to something we know nothing of
we have named everything and we know nothing of anything
tear out your pre-written pages
begin once again and open your book to the writing hand of the unheard
vibrations reflecting from all things
and no longer be a slave to the herd that is man

Emotion

2011-09-18T15:15:00.002-04:00

it comes and goes like seasons of the moon
at times onset is remiss yet faithful as a young child learning to read
others it comes fleetly as an owl in the dark clutching its prey from the shadows
i am the prey knowing well that my predator is skulking around any corner

as a tree or if i were a tree to speak fantastically
when the storm comes steadily or with a clout i have not expected
my leaves strip and scud into the chaotic exposing my branches
my branches sway and crack but alas my trunk remains

[My]nd

2011-09-14T20:41:00.003-04:00

i see for miles and miles but i cannot see my own nose clearly
despair clings on as a teasing and seducing mistress
kiss me and hold my head
i cannot write or think or push
shit sweats down my forehead into my eyes and mouth
tears run from my eyes blue as blood deficient of oxygen
i live for you not myself and i will die for you not myself
my muscles tense and my head aches even under the sun
love fails to find me as my shell is hard as hell
in this form is all i can tell

To Walk the Contrary Way

2011-09-13T21:12:00.001-04:00

a fixated mind on what one does not know
provokes an embodiment of hopelessness
mountaintop philosophies and lusts for the ocean
one loves the clay while the other dwells among crawling things
there are those who sprawl their bodies in the desert
and ladies and boys floundering among the grass and trees
each in their own ambience like domesticated herds
and if a child were to wander as children do
that child's keeper and sophists of hir kind firmly would redirect
a return to the idiosyncrasies of the mountains
the rest consummate in the same fashion
but when the trees burn or, perhaps, fail to yield their fruit
and those who thrive on such as this writhe
eyes deviate and backs turn for tending to their desert dunes
yet still there are those who walk the contrary way
loved by some but a distasteful and contemned endeavor to most
the contrary way? why, i travel it
i have not a hearth to bind me
but an oblique and barefooted path
my bare feet and my finger tips touch and find accordance in many
this way, this virtue leaves one traveling the contrary way in despair
for those of the mountain cannot perceive the earth in ways of treefolk
so here and there i walk
an advocate for all but misunderstood as the deepest depths of the ocean
the earth's potential for oneness and peace is indispensably great
but the contrary way will always be walked by those like me
and disconsolate as it truly is
nothing will change

D Flat (An Enlightening Night Experience)

2011-09-10T23:53:00.001-04:00

in the depth of the night
burning embers of tobacco so luminescent
bellows so adjoining to my body
i nearly can feel their vibrations
so close that my fingers become roused to touch
then silence becomes my new sound
and silence gives way to the more quiescent
warbles and nips of noise reflecting off my body
the sound of the earth in d flat

An Angel

2011-09-09T15:41:00.001-04:00

you can't use your hands
so i will be your hands
you cant use your feet
so let me be your feet
it seems such a vexation upon you
and when the verity of this soaks into my spirit
my heart quivers and sinks down below my stomach
i cannot fathom nor justly descry your burden
and this truth is what binds my soul to its sublimity
i cannot understand and i cannot feel this for you
but upon glancing at a prospect of taking your bodily place
i would not hesitate
not even for a moment for thought
for it has already been adjudicated into the deepest parts of my being
but i know, i know that i cannot
a simple fact
in the deepest thought
when i catch a glimpse of your angelic eyes
or when i am in solitude and i close my eyes
i see not your body or a physical form
but i see a spirit
an angel
a beautiful soul
some would utter that your body is a cage
i see not a cage but the embodiment of one who is free
one who prays and sings and laughs and smiles
your smile
your empathetic tears
they push me on when i do not understand
or even see a reason to live
i am blessed
blessed by god's touch through your broken hands
blessed by your smile amidst your bodily pain
blessed by your words, by your prayers
again, i am blessed
for you are an angel
and i know that one day
whether it be today
or when our spirits become one in peace
that i will dance with you
once again
amongst the trees

my dearest mother
may peace and grace follow you eternally
i love you
micah

The Reason is the Journey

2011-09-09T13:01:00.000-04:00

blue feathers stream from gray weather
and only the crickets still chirp away
a soft song withers away as i write
for what purpose i write, i do not know
maybe it is the leaves dwindling from the trees that provokes me
soaking their dying bodies into the earth
or quite possibly it is for pure satisfaction
people utter in my ear, even brashly, that they do not understand
they cannot understand
for i do not even know my own mind
socrates would find disappointment in my philosophy
"know thyself" he says
"know thyself"
i write because i do not know myself
it is a great adventure
finding oneself
and i have barely begun
but the earth, my pain, my joy prods me
to ponder, to question, to not know myself
and in my ambiguity i vigorously live and desire to grow
in this i stay alive
i find reason in being alive at all
to know my self
i will never fully fathom my mind, my spirit
but knowing there is a journey
this is what i live for
and the crickets still sing

The Ocean

2011-09-06T21:57:00.001-04:00

it's like tributaries emanating forth
coarse and scabrous in places
different places
transcendent and harmonious in others
close together in ways
becoming one and daubing apart again
between mountains and under nooks they run
some dash and some quite quiescent
and then the ocean
vast and undying
beautiful beyond any word or thought
a place of repose
not a place but more a dwelling
a dwelling of harmony
of rest and peace
bedraggled and rugged they come
these estuaries
in their own ways perhaps
from whence they came they do not know
and as they touch the ocean
suddenly
they are one
at rest
at peace
together once again

Being Present

2011-09-05T22:20:00.000-04:00

in the rain i stood
cigarette between my lips
burning slowly
words came and went
as wind fluttering between the trees
beard shavings were in my hand
between my fingers
i let it go
for the earth
for the birds
but still the blades between my shoulders clenched
i was so at peace
i am so at peace
but yet still so vain
so thoroughly in agony over my inaptitude for thought
for embracing the moment
not as i inhale and exhale the smoke
but each moment
being enlightened and penetrated and accentuated by them
by it
now
and here
i am here

Frozen

2011-09-04T12:58:00.000-04:00

snow scattered ground
a meaningless thought
yet so profound
frozen and some bare
leaves clung to the soil
you inhale and blankly stare
a numb day with life expired
as it is to you and them
as i exhale an air on fire
deeply cold you struggle and die
i take a moment to love your eyes
and then walk on glowing deeply inside

The World

2011-08-31T20:30:00.000-04:00

i sit alone on a bed
my bed
addled by myself
the pondering little boy
a man in ways
it is not you
at least not you as a being
a person
it is this epicene place
a culture of closed eyes to open skies
i love and hate and cherish it
a token of grief
a resting place in accord
oh the world
what a place to be
unfinished thought
un-rendered glance of lust
and love

A Glimpse

2011-08-23T13:20:00.000-04:00

barefoot in the grass
green stains my feet
field mice and toads
they clamber up and around my body
pudenda fostered by a rag loosely arrayed
clouds cluttered
basting the skies
i sit and i grasp a glimpse of the heavens
rising forward
"standing barefoot before g-d"

A Moment

2011-08-19T14:43:00.000-04:00

thunderstorms

music to my soul

kisses under cover

Farewell, Dear Brother

2011-08-19T12:25:00.001-04:00

standing
or more in a winced demeanor
barefoot in the woods

farewell dear brother
i kissed your bristled cheek
and held my head meekly touching yours

and that last look as you pulled away
catching a glimpse of your eyes
tears in mine
farewell dear brother

Rain

2011-08-15T17:35:00.000-04:00

rain like a colden god stretches umbrella-ed across hir skies
wry as it be. an umbrella, a planchement
to hold one dry under the most cumbersome of skies
but still
and not still in the quaintest
water follows my strokes as far as my eyes can perchance descry
frore and bitter as it tongues the fore of my arms and head
dripping from the tip of my nose and bristles of my beard
it obtrudes my body
the darkness and the rain
and even on the sunniest of days it nests within my spirit
or, perhaps more candidly, it is my body
conceivably the two as one or separate entities perturbing one to the other
they say i am loved but i do not feel it nor do i espy such a notion
far, far away love not as in a story resolved
contemplate but no one, no not even a single soul knows
that i and i molder with every breath of life

uNDERSTATEMENT

2011-08-09T00:47:00.000-04:00

Fuck twine around legs
And damned cinders hide
yOU do not understand
simple
an understatement

Sex and Rumors of Sex

2011-05-22T21:14:00.002-04:00

gnashing and fornication
warm pelvic thrust
clash and tune
whispers in wind
shitty system
blind as moles

Me

2011-05-11T21:33:00.000-04:00

Just tell me what you want
Or I'll eat your insides
A quick harvest
An eternity of time
Short
Too short

A Time of War

2011-03-23T15:21:00.000-04:00

If I should hail a mellow mind
There'd be no vibrations left behind
With shallow veins and swollen hands
One's dignity lost on muddied land
No eye to stare, no falling star
Just a beggar; a lost boy shooting scars
When drum rolls bend and surely creek
A thinking man leaves tongue in cheek
But hope for not another blow
For suns do streak and chasms glow

Good Sir

2011-03-20T19:05:00.000-04:00

Fuse me with yourself
For I am of a tender kind
A broken leg of a man
With cinder and folly twine
For no noose has strung around
The faceless boy of merry crown
In hopeless toils of sodden gray
A boy yells out
With hell in stay
Please! Kind sir!
Be good to your boys
In folly and sorry remarks
We slay your bones
Good sir
We slay your bones

Words

2011-02-23T13:43:00.000-05:00

Maybe someday I will write
Poems worthwhile in dreary night
Where mothers that do fall
'Round toilets in bathroom stalls
Will find not words but joy

Being Alone

2011-02-13T19:35:00.001-05:00

It's like biting at frozen soil
Teeth teeth so tender
Bring in a bag of coal she says
Lumped over the shoulder
Muscles constricted and baned
Happiness being so passing
He trudges on with that coal
No place to dump it for the burn
So dance little sister, dance
But that coal so packed
Makes notions of joyful rhythm obsolete
Nonexistent for the tear faced boy
Happiness is passing
But what of joy?
Such is being alone

Thought

2011-02-08T21:50:00.001-05:00

Toiling fragrances of collard yellow-green
Make the passing of moments difficult in seam
Blessed meditations are of nature in silent withhold
As my mind's sorry bends lose tender heart and soul

Girl with the Hazel Eyes

2011-02-06T17:58:00.000-05:00

Oh girl with the hazel eyes
My eyes are fixed upon portraits
Thoughts upon and underneath and through
No said word can undo
A mindless wanting boy's desire
A pitiable dribbling fool so desperate for
A touch of your yielding fingertips
Or a saturating dabble of mine on your lips
Oh do not leave me sour!
Alas perhaps, yours is the beauty for most I care
So if said is not your desire
I will cease forever to inquire

Earthworms

2011-02-03T21:13:00.001-05:00

Grow and expand
Digging depths keen in-ground
To your homespun temples

Wriggle wiggle down
As the earthworm

Soil and shadowy gold
Betroths sappy embers
To walloping gossip herders

And what of the poor blacksmith
Cracking glowing sparks from metal

Day into day
As new sunrises sparsely penetrate
The mist ascertained of sub dew points

Thicker does it grow
Until no distinction from dawn to dusk is made

And toil goes onward
Scoring trees and their leafed fingers
For a penny and a kiss

Without knowledge of backbiting rains
Quarls and rusty syringes dope the brains

Oh! Half hearted men and stuttering Stans
Gulping up your own vomit
Adoring the tang

What was it again
How do trees grow

Love

2011-01-31T18:21:00.000-05:00

I simply hope
But not so plainly
For a hand to grasp
A chance to be loved
Not to make love
But to employ it
Does such a thing exist
In fondness of touch
I reach in the dark

A Sitting Man

2011-01-30T14:54:00.000-05:00

The window is open to day
With dog sitting and sun grinning
A grit of the teeth and drag of fag
Only serves to remind
My lonely chest its solemn grind

Writing words that no one hears
Adding noise to the drip of tears
Catching notches in my hair
That one long strand hanging down my face
A single among the locked in fingers

A fuck around me and damned loves
Sighs of pity so near solemn growls
That I catch a taste of laughter in the air
Caring in subjective sarcasm
Eyes and lids shut down in the wind

Another pill with another frill
And I'm hooked in doctor's drugs
Spinning my head and dragging my chin
Against walls and broken limbs
Served in caviar dip

Like the constant taste of shit on my tongue
So my breast thumps in persistent strains
This brown lock goes fetal
From brown and red to gray
A bag over my face

A Sanctuary

2011-01-23T12:48:00.000-05:00

a dragging beauty

sliding through the dirt and mire

puking up remains

fingerings and rings of past endeavors

climb up her skin

nails and cuticles digging in

back inside and down the throat

to the stomach to dismember

along with the rest of past loves

a sanctuary

Religion

2011-01-11T15:19:00.000-05:00

little children, love on another
wash other feet and kiss other hands
religion of a messiah

What Can be Seen on My Sleeve

2011-01-01T17:48:00.001-05:00

A black night over my eyes
Covering my body both to and fro
The wind teetering on the bend of my window pain
Leaves no mark on my mind
A gifted treasure slain
All plans of action and dissatisfaction
Not of my own love but of the blinded and dead
They, in my conceivable world, drift as a piano wanes
For the player's fingers in toil
Tire and thirst for rest in pain
Who I am and who I have become
Are so very different in nature and disguise
But all one can perceive
Is not where my heart hopes
But what can be seen on my sleeve

The Cold

2010-12-29T00:58:00.000-05:00

I stand erect with a quiver
Face trodden in sun glowing snow
While cigarette smolder and nostril fold
Under oppressive bite of evanescent cold

It is peace that I seek
Leg tottering in buckled motion
And this dusted off old bone feed
On hunger ridden bowel of tweed

Scent of it all I cannot make
With an open jar scraped of blackish crust
So scent will deliver hand to me
In product of delivery fee

Such a Beautiful Night

2010-12-18T00:41:00.001-05:00

Such a beautiful night
The snow and soft breeze
And no one but God and me
I feel the stickling and biting snow
Shooting up my toes
Though shoes embrace my feet
It seems that just somehow
The snow has infiltrated my soles
But comfort is not betrayed
Nor are my wits tottered about
So I shuffle my face forward
Slightly in a bow
And I begin a slow and steady stroll
A stroll it is to me but not what it seems
Looking as a trudging pace
To those who draw near enough see
And I cannot will it enough to pose
Not for one minuteness of a moment
It's simply God and me
Sifting through the snow

Nine Months

2010-12-04T22:28:00.000-05:00

I'm just another boy
No extra glance or offering joy
Is a hand away from glands rushing
Or even to cause you a blushing
They say sorrow finds a way
Of slithering up from an array

But alas

It takes nine months to find
That it is not they but I who is blind
I'm no shooting star to save
I'm not a savior but a slave

Her

2010-11-29T02:45:00.003-05:00

I am the root of a flower in a desert
Earnestly I reach for this one drip of water
She is the drip of water in a desert
But alas my hope is spent to the brim
For she has fallen so far a dreary path
Toiling under pleasured eyes
The sun and stars
Worked so hard she has
At chances that have soured love
There was no hope for beauty in us from the start
But still
I am in love with her

Figure Eights

2010-11-26T13:06:00.002-05:00

The twitching is caused of nicotine craze
With coffee and stogies we course through our veins

Dreaming of better worlds and different girls
We stand in a spotted row as if handed down to it

No stringed melody or bright little fireflies glow
On dead grass blades or patches of leafy crumbles

No moths so innocent of conscious trade
In dusty nooks and under buttoncoat hooks

Red painted love is taken pause in introspection
With subtle lusters of orange and yellow

Emotion aspires to such a bright colour
So brilliant that grays escape the eye

And oh how her britches dragged
Not to the floor but more of an upright nature

Exposing the tips of her cheeks
Spined hairs of black pointing here and there

I never knew and I never saw
My hands as a catalyst for broken in love

Fingernails pulled and hangnails torn
Scraping for a little blind mouse

In figure eights

Boy

2010-11-23T01:34:00.000-05:00

Oh lost little boy with hair upon your breast
You weep in your distress
Tears stream like twine down your blotchy cheek and neck
Everyone but no one sees your distress
As a widower of sorts who has lost his love
Only you have never seen nor heard her voice
She takes form only in fantastical dreams soft and slow
Beautifully strung instruments of melancholy amber move and play
Sometimes in a dismembered joy
But always returning and regressing to minor keys
Oh sobbing child oddly shaped and sewn
Upon when I chance a glimpse of you I utter my empathies
But now I softly whisper that I too do not know

Today

2010-11-17T11:14:00.001-05:00

A numb mourning
Thrashing about as in a dream
A nightmare
Taming jesters and queens
A hopelessness in creation

A Haiku

2010-11-11T13:36:00.001-05:00

jealously passive
a slap in subjective shame
dark sunshiny days

Beasts of the Field

2010-11-08T21:33:00.003-05:00

Of the so called "intrinsic values" imposed upon humanity's children
You shall sit and be seated upon within our context of moralities
Underneath the spine of Nature's beauty queens
Sit the philosophes; the moral beggars of history's slutworthy bane
To over-induce chastisements and brazen conundrums of every fiber
And here lie the ministers, pastors, priests and the bishops
Playing slap for bellow with their utterances of misleading calls
To the sheep in the pasture with the goats and beasts of hierarchical claim
Their calls; chants so beautifully strung but yet prodding along
You sheep follow as if entranced by the thought of some incongruous existence!
You've been sheared and fenced oh you beasts of the field!

A Thought; A Perception of Something I Know

2010-11-03T11:26:00.000-04:00

Yellow leaves of gold bramble and persnickety bray
Crunch within and underneath the soles of my feet
With twigs and toads skipping ambiguously below
A thought; a perception of something i know
Crept underneath the soils and sills upon my browsing chest
With hope; with love I will see that it climbs up walls and trees and foul
Inching her toes up one and all bark's facets and knolls
A modally sequential lust in thimbles and walks nurtured in casual strolls
This idea of what I perceive that I find
Sits sodden and steady on the thickly laid folds of my mind
A sustained hope of love still smokes in the air
Touching tips of the sluggishly doldrumish hands
Belonging to boys; to men and the girls
In trodden domains where tranquil subtleties drag with the swine

A Thought Inquired

2010-10-14T13:53:00.000-04:00

A little boy perched slightly to one side
An effort to evade the scope of sunrays
A waiflike little island that was his own
Peppered here and there
Painted with stones and colourful greens
A simply gorgeous home
Scented with ocean foam
The boy sat bemused in inquiry
"What is beyond my miniature islet?"
Inquired the boy of a toad that had slipped his way
"What is this soured and splintery thought?
There is nothing beyond your head!"
Said the toad between his consistent barks
Quite a puzzling dialect to the boy's ears
With that the toad skipped and slithered away
And the boy never knew
That what lay beyond his eyes
Were wonderers just like you

The Grass

2010-10-09T16:35:00.000-04:00

Simply elegant in textures of boysenberry fray
A stream of red, green, and yellow pours into my veins
Confetti skips all around me down and under my spectacles
I see the steps and pros they utter in their dialect of dances
It crunches brazenly against and all around and under my toes
Piercing my mind with enlightenments from the firmament
Colours bright and slow have mellow boundaries of intensity's gray
Separate in ways but so gracefully blessed; in a sisterhood of love
Holding and locking fingers; each digit one by three and so forth
Until a difference of atonement there cannot be viewed
Even from under the clearest crystal of sight
I beg of you to strive in this way of glorious songs and hymns of praise
Because with our spirits tied closely at the hearts and minds of entwined grass
We live, utter, and sway inside a universe of molasses grace

The Clay

2010-10-06T21:36:00.001-04:00

A titled man I am
Jeans cut at the knee
Strings hanging and dangling in step
I touch limbs with a threefold god of sorts
A blind maker of straw and clay
Bricks mounting up and up
I find my body baking in the sun
Spoiling like the stench of a turned cream

The Water

2010-09-24T15:48:00.000-04:00

The water is crumbling across the slope on which it sits
Let us ponder water
Water not as a whole
But as separate entities all in a broken row
As the waters raise a tune in minor
The flute and stringed instruments sleek into the air
Then she tranced into the mix
And it all ended

The Corridor

2010-09-19T19:04:00.002-04:00

Cinder blocks of gold and yellow
They line the walls of the corridor
Flowing simply with a crack and a smear
I trimp and skip blessedly and with passion
These walls, they trip me and I sink into the pools
The pools of water crusted with slain men
Blood and grudges steam within the walls
I am near the end of my lumpy runway
Seeking truth
The walls and interiors crumble and cramp
Inside and within
Then
Everything BURST
And I was free as a gypsy

Existence

2010-09-15T11:46:00.000-04:00

Today, in this hour dear fellows, I ponder the question of physical existence. All I feel is so grained and superfluous. As I listen to rock and roll and tumble about through the brush a thought invades my senses.

A human feels complacent within her own skin

Because up to this moment

She has never discovered a door from her body

And been free to admire from the outside

How do we know that all that exists is what he have lifelong perceived? Simply because I reach my hand out and stroke a thorn, letting it dig into my skin, I have assumed that this thorn is actually there, creating a genuine change in the physical world.

What if all that is assumed to exist

Does not

At least in the form that we suppose

What if this form

Is what we put in place of what actually

"eXiStS"

Exist. What does it mean to exist? To have "actual being"? How do we know that what seems to have actual being does not? Or maybe, this idea of existence that we have is lacking a superior idea of this form.

Think of me as a doll

Ragged and conforming to the fixed

We all could agree that me, as a doll, holds some form that affects and is affected by what is around it. But I never existed, would air fill the void I had left? Or would there be an impossibility in place of me?

Some sort of infinite

A place of non-existence

A section completely imperceivable

Inconsistent with the Human senses

And quite impossible to detect

Or even to become present in one's conscience

I am becoming more and more of a skeptic. Someone who has many ideas about the universe, and can understand the possibility of everything, but yet acknowledges the impossibility of everything at the same time. I can never put my finger on one thing that must be true, because there is always a perfectly possible contradiction in the matter.

What I feel

Changes what I think

But what I think

Is necessary for being able to feel

Existence

Where do I begin?

G-d of the Fountain

2010-09-14T15:16:00.005-04:00

The brink

The brink, we are on

All our toes connected together as if one limb were present

Standing on the tip of a steeple

Looking up to G-d but sparing no time from our balance

For we must maintain balance or we shall fall amidst the worms

And be eaten alive stitch by stitch until our souls are swallowed away

By the Earth himself!

How cruel for a G-d of the HEAVENS to leave us to fall!

Each one! Each part of us is a suffering child

Left in the darkness to suffer and ponder on terrible things

The sun is shining!

But we are left blind in the darkness

Searching so for G-d in hope

We know Ze is gracious and loving

Is this true? Does Ze not even see us?

G-d! Oh G-d of the Fountain!

See us! Love us! Feeeeeeed Your children Y-hw-h!

Smiles of Rot

2010-09-09T17:43:00.011-04:00

I tinker about

Open and living in retrospect

I bellow and hum songs of tranquility

Songs of love and peace

Interrupting the days of those who slumber in passionate woe

For I love this population of miners that dig in the earth

All that wanders around through my webs of emotion

Are thoughts of those possessing a light load

But such a heavy load it is!

To be caught in a world of speed and caffeine

Where time is forced into a small shell

And all that is of grace is candied; put in a can

Where mechanical cashiers slide labels and recycle our wealth

All my mind is bent on love

To bring joy to those who are blessed and naught

But I fail! Oh I fail!

My love is turned to shit in a trough

All of my own ego and neediness

A child hears me sing my songs of peace

She offers a glance to view the origin of such a lullaby

And upon seeing my lips and tongue curled in ecstasy

Her smile is soured to rot

Hir Blessed Greens

2010-09-08T01:45:00.006-04:00

Soggy and pale is my perception of humanity

While blissful children play and sing

Their mouths utter rings around rosies

A detriment rationed in contradiction

I hear myself cry with a closed mouth:

Humankind! Oh you beautiful treachery!

So faithful is your love to me

I know that I will be wrapped in your tenderness

All the days of my life

So simple and lovely is our kinship

As I fail to see the injustice of our acts

Leave that boy to shamble lonely and frightened

We are joined in grace and perversity

For what other pleasure could a creature inquire?

I am so very colorful from the tips of my toes

To the flaring nostrils protruding from my cheeks

Shining grace wisps in and out

And as I fall I know I will be interrupted

Your tender hands will grasp my skin

Hold it tightly

And provoke my body to ascend again

But I was not grasped nor fondled

Except by the handsome folds of green

Oh my foolish fuckery!

The ground and her greens are a much firmer friend

But my damned senses prod me again to rise to glory

Up the ladder of feet, of cocks, of hands I climb
Up to the Creator

I have so clearly and quickly forgotten

That these steps will cease

And as I reach so trustingly for the next

I will fall back into Hir blessed greens

And once again learn

That it is not a ladder of glory

But a cross of blood and dirt

Where grace finds us

Genderless

2010-09-06T16:43:00.002-04:00

A boy once kissed my lips

Pressing and nibbling so gently

He caressed me so, in love

A genderless matrimony for a time

A glance into the cosmos of our nature

We feel and teal into one

And schism back to our frosty trenches

The Boy and His Song

2010-09-02T19:04:00.007-04:00

Grassy floors lay caressing the earth

While leaf bits of gold and yellow play

Tossing about to the gently swaying breeze

Pattering feet and soled shoes skip between

And a mumble

A murmuring of little voices, some tall

Tickles the wind to life

They simply compliment the air into being

Some of them to and some of them fro

Passing and underpassing his eyes

This boy, or is he a man?

Hair upon his chest and face

He strums in key

Slightly out of tune

But a beautiful disruption to the ticking clock

Fingers sway and slide through the strings

As a specter or angel of sorts

Blissfully slow and tearful

And as his climax does arise

The patter slows

The murmurs cease in step

Like a slowly dying music box

The dancer dribbling out her last turn

The voices of strings now fill the myst

Like children of love

And sweat and steam become his finger's claim

The perfect dance of his tune drifts jaggedly

Slipping bit by step into a flaw

This song is done

His song is done

Away to it's case, the mandolin goes

And soon will he move on the tips of his toes

Back to his cave where the song remains

Slowly the drive of the murmur and patter

The leaves and the trees

Come back alive and tick as before

As if the existence of the boy and his tune

Were never there before

Christianity

2010-08-29T15:39:00.004-04:00

Pasting chests

Brazen breasts

Sinking boats and petty coats

Flutter about around me

A swarm, like

Apathy

Chastity

Sodomy

I see a simple salvation

And yet a fornication

As dicks dip

And whip-its slip

As slovenly gluttons

Break all their buttons

We praise

And raise

A flag of victory

Over our fears

Our tears

Our sin within

Flip the top and pull the swing

Back and aback and forth we swing

Professions

Confessions of freedom!

From chains and bonds we sing

Our faces drag

Ripped to rags

Full blast ahead

Hatred bound

Gripping the ground

With our toes and tongues

Sight of the blind and the shamed

We see not

So drop your slips

Your tips of law

Into the open mouths of beggars

Starvation

And deprivation of love

Tell me again

What is love?

Mother Moon

2010-08-26T14:01:00.003-04:00

Inspiration conveys Herself now and before

A tagless moment becomes a lineage of thought

A cracked and fondled feeling is caressed

Carried away in the wisps of Her breath

Injected so gracefully with love

Peace from the earth is so suddenly anew

Bright colors and beautiful dimness

We dance and sing beating a drum

We are one in step and tone

And as we expel Her breath from our lungs

The dampness of our spirits is knitted

We are a single thread

And motion to and fro

But even this lost thread motions toward Her garments

As we are made at peace

At home

Oh Mother Moon

You sing so softly in the night air

And give us hope of rest

Hidden under the sun

A dreary tear is dissolved to a passionate flow

And in that moment

Before you beckon the clouds to warm you

We are inspired to live and love in minor keys

Of grace

If I were a Tree

2010-08-21T19:45:00.005-04:00

If I were a tree

My outer limbs would be dry

Brown and cracked

I would have so much life at the heart of me

But my produce would wither and bend

Under the weight of the sunbeams

And prowling insect bites

Even moongleams would offer no pacifying glance

Shedding dim glows on wolves and witches

Whose ambition is bent on not me

But my branches to make heat and spear

I would be parched

Concerning myself so with the needs of others

My shrub and thimble nub friends must have water too!

And with my needy roots there is naught for them

So I would retract my roots

And suffer and parch

If I were a tree

My roots would be shallow

And only a prayer would sustain me

From descending into the muck and mire

But like so many other wishes and heart aches

I would fall to the earth

To be food for the mites

With nothing left for thought

My branches and severed trunk would go

Deep into the ground

And all that would be left is a memory

Of how my sifting did not last

If I were a tree

Shalom

2010-08-20T21:04:00.002-04:00

To search in dampness under the mold and mud

Is the splintery corridor through which our toes mingle

We scaled out a name to unbind the nails in your boughs

And chanced upon sounds and bites of delight

Shalom, oh beauty queen, Shalom

Hello

Fair thee well

We found ourselves seething in proper tongue

Dialect upon dialog seeping with whimsical timbre

And now our utterances escape in rhythm

Texture in suit is all we trickle

Dust Mites

2010-08-08T13:18:00.004-04:00

H
ow do I love?

For what I thought were my feet

Are, if truth be told, my belly

A reality is setting in

Because when I look down

I no longer witness my feet

Skipping and dipping freely in the earth

But my face chafes against dirt and stone

And as I gasp frantically for wind to enter me

I am aghast to discover that no air will come in

Dust mites and jagged minerals

Have given way to my nostrils

Choking and clogging my passages

So I inquire once more

How do I love you?

I do not fly like winged creatures!

I mingle with the dirt!

Dust mites knit and slag into my mind

Qualm upon qualm pressure my devotion

And my bearing chain is crumbling into the myst

And then I see a tree

Beautiful branches mingling in and out

It is Ze

I persist still

Hallelujah

Wealth and Riches

2010-08-03T18:16:00.005-04:00

It is now that you are to wrap up my riches

Do not hesitate

For I will bite off your nose and spit it out into the muck

I twindle and findle my fingers

Sloshing my grains between my fingers and under my toes

What Ho! Another squack to bleed

Another prospect for me to grow groW grOW gROW GROW

My lips are feverish with it

It's like a sting that will not go away but feels so divine!

Oh! Is it not I that deserves such a blissfully content life?

Do I not warrant the right to take what I've made?

I leaf and lean

I have stomped on your meadows

And I have stripped you of your milk and honey

I will bring all these dombldims back to the earth

So that the Creator may do as Ze pleases with its produce

All my offerings are rags and shitty piles of owl pies

As I lean forward to grab your hand so that you will not fall

You let go

Because I did not stop to care for the earth

Baritus

2010-08-01T19:54:00.004-04:00

It is said that a man quakes when he sees a giant

His toes nibbling away at your heart

But why do you cumber such a heavy load?

And splish splash along the humdrums

Seek a flower, not a crow

Play with crisps of amber, not shards of splat

Go on children

You are free to grow in all the colors of the earth

G_d did not mold and bake a soul to mettle

And Ze did not bind our strips in number

Let us ponder upon a dust mite

A little wisp of air fluttering this way

Ho! Now she is pittering past our eyes

Beyond our spirit she goes

Into the depths of the moonlit mire

A place of such glow

But not without the rubbish of the mud

Now it does seem that the world in all its parts

Can move with alacrity enough to touch the black

But the muck is a sultry paradigm for impeding shine

Our eyes are fixed upon the pinhole into which we lay our heads

But the gloshing mud is rapped around our members

Clockwork

2010-07-27T16:09:00.000-04:00

I see a washed mesh of Hir colors

Blending this way and that

Producing a mingling glow of shine

I have been lifted off my feet

And have been transcended to a tender heart

My bones are now of a conforming texture

Complimenting the hand to which they rest

You used to lumber and nimble out to pick the fruit

The rotten fruit that poisoned your mind to fail

Your clockwork has simply dunked and dinked

Leaving you with nothing but a simple pile of steel

That was the first time that you knew Hir through and through

Was it not?

You took Hir in with an open mouth

Sucking in and bounding tight the Spirit and Flesh of our Creator

It was in that slice in time that you were one with Hir

And now even with this new glow you have pursued

You must be willing to breathe in more and more

Children will come to tell you stories of their worlds

And nimbs and folks of old will come plodding in your pool

Soak in all that you can from these beings as they bellow

For as your confusion presses on like a screw in your mind

So also will your wisdom grow like the leaves of the fields

And always echo bellows of flare and shine

Dancing with the Trees

2010-07-24T19:51:00.000-04:00

You can't use your hands

I see myself bearing that burden

I will untie your bearing chain

And open you up to Hir grace

I feel like an open window

Into which space, time, and the obsolete

Have a meaning but no bounds

I see you as a closed and sealed cavern

Into which no haven could be asunder

I want to nip and tuck until I get inside your blood

And uphold into my being what you once grasped

But I cannot

I cannot open you up to me

I sob a dreary but passionate tear

Filled with love and the looks we touch in step

But my deepening sorrow for you will not be shaken

Until I see you dance, once again, with the trees

I love you Mother

A Tale of Valiant Men and Speed

2010-07-22T17:20:00.000-04:00

Green lilies of pink and red

Floating up and down before my head

I sing familiar songs in tone and tune

Knowing that Ze will be here soon

It is a melody of blessed glow
And sung up from the earth below

We chant it in harmony and bigotry

Feeling that we deserve what we have for free

But is it freedom hence

Being trapped inside a stone and wire fence

To follow along like a rat in trolley

And sing asunder from down in the valley

And why must we live our stretch

with such speedy nimble toes

Only to be barking or baking

One of the two

I heard it in the knows

That two young men

Tundered out their tips

A fiery web

Because they refused to slow down then

And sing a slow and beautiful blend

The Universe

2010-07-18T10:51:00.000-04:00

Bring my toes to linger in your field

For I have been gone a long and dreary season

Sweating and baking over work no one could end

I slopped in the grease from your dinner plate

Down my throat and into my wide open book

And yet I made your plate's dinner pre-hence

I do not understand the ways of the world

She said to me

I only perceive the ways of the universe

I considered her bellows foolish and nimb

But ho! Now I see her colors in a radiant shine

And understand that I know the universe

Even more so than the world around me hence

Or do I simply hope that I understand the universe

Because there is no law to prove me wrong?

This is fathoming that I do not know

So I am no longer an open book

But an open chest instead

The Contrary Way

2010-07-14T20:21:00.000-04:00

My belly is jostling within a drum

Being tampered from pity to foe

I strike the matching queen in love

Only to uncover the furtive glance from which you sprang

I fondled the ends of my cupped gills

So that you may strike me with looking glances

You fix your looking glass upon your little rabbits of musk

Only to open up a door to the silence

Silence is no longer what it seemed

A vague darkness that perpetuates your lenses

The green slithers this way and that

Twisting itself out of your eyelids

Pulling the scud and scones out from your loins

Follow the contrary way

And slinker a telltale path

For your senses may soak in the light of another glimpse

And bring you to a room of slithering fingers

Where it has not been that you have set your toes

We now take in the squint of another land

And eat sod and soil with brightness

Consumer: You Breathe Apathy

2010-07-10T17:03:00.000-04:00

Our feet are hanging from the thimbles that sway

We bring stained peppers from the hardwood soil

Filling our veins with apathy for the Creator's world

Darting to and fro between nubs and crawlers

Dragging the caterpillars from lesser fields into a dry shell

We drain the juice from your lungs and and sponge your sides

Imbibing all that we encounter into our cupped hands

We cannot see the sludge that fills your mouths

So we stomp and skip away in a flash of gleam

Dwarfs and Daggers

2010-07-10T14:35:00.000-04:00

Slovenly dwarfs squint their visages

The juice of their golden wheat dribbling in their beards

Watch out little butterflies

For dwarfs have turned on their fellow creations

Their coiled lips gasp in vicious wisps of air

Gulping down every being that subsists in the greens

They are germs to this earth

Sickly old daggers shine like pure glass in the sun

Drawing in the limbs and tips of all Hir creatures

Their shine is so attractive but blinding to the eyes

Melting away the lens in your looking glass

Beware little snips and snails

Do not be pierced by the tips of their fingers

For they drool at the sight of fresh beings to drain

We are the dwarfs

Men so desperate and bent on consuming all around them

We are the daggers

So frantic in pursuit of stepping on the heads of the innocent

Blood, and perspiration become one as they mingle in the dirt

Beautiful creatures of the heavenlies we are

But covered in rags stained with sweat and blood

Colorful as the Myst Part II: The Skabning

2010-07-09T15:43:00.000-04:00

My quaking chest is full of that which I have only known in despair

But what treacherous skabning lingers deep inside my trenches?

For reason escapes me

I have no tunnel to quarry through

No sharp stones tearing back my fingernails

I have no slaughter on my hands

No blood dribbling off my tongue onto my lips

Even so, my loss of reason remains a discoloration on my thoughts

What was once bright and colorful as the myst is now pasted with smears of gray

My eyes are fixed upon an open book of tales in a tongue not of my own

I suffer that there is no presage beneath what my feeling spots have sensed

Oh hallowed Creator!

Reach out your blessed limbs and respire upon my breast

Reinstate the glowing shines that have been veiled from my looking glass

It is in Your mouth that I will slash back my skin

And uncover my missing piece

Apud Terra (The Presence of the Earth)

2010-06-30T19:54:00.000-04:00

We honor the Creator for the blessings that Ze has furnished us with

And eat of the greens and molds of the earth

But Y_hw_h looks at Hir soil and sheds a stream of tears

For the black and grey sap has been smoldered

And has weakened Hir flora and fauna

We must be opened up to the glow of G_d's grace

And love the earth on which we shamble

Take care of your creature friends

For they have been gifted to us by the grace that Ze has offered

Love the mud and the plants

Bestow your provisions on the lesser of the wandering children

For they require green glow and shine in their concave as you do

We are the same

Perfect and beautiful creations knitted together in the womb

So adore your population of dwarfs and daggers

It is in this shine that you will find Hir grace

And live in a bright beam of all the colors of the earth

Poverty

2010-06-29T17:23:00.000-04:00

(Recommended Listening: "Festival" by Sigur Ros)

The dark gloom of the mud is the pest to which disgruntled looks have been thrown

It is in this way that addanc mellows you to the ground

Feasting on the soil of another's mire and the oil and sap

The sap from the foot that was tenderly planted in the earth

It seems that this feast would hoard in your basin

Aspiring a holler of dances and rhythms to roil up in your viscera

For I have received my fortune for the sweat I have quivered off my back bone

But you have misplaced your glowing rings for vanities of mold

This mold that has turned your stomach to deteriorate

For why must my hardened straps muscle away for your chasms to be stacked

What ho! My muscled cavern is being rotted away by the fumes I bellow from my orifice

And my wonder has evaporated into the sludge from the lodged foot that you were swallowing

Lower and lower below it creeps

Even more under the myst than your vigor was captivated

And my scent is now within the shadows of lost glow

It is this poverty that I should have striven for

So that I may profess my riches away from my heart

To befall a mellowness reminiscent of Hir

I did not concern to consider thus

And so at this present flash of radiance

I shall swallow Hir shine into my lungs

And polish the cherubs of Hir looking glass with grace