dream here

norwegian dream

Tiny diagrammatic shapes
Sensed the lingering
Of time. A mass
Of warm mud clinging
To it. The birds
Would not leave.
Bird-shaped metal
Crashed.
The continuation of my dream
Soft white glow
The angle of moonlight
Lured exaggerated
Silhouette. The beating
Motions of the darkness
Swallow stillness
I was huge
Rustling faintly

i put my soul into what i do

As Jacque said, "Do you see the look on his face?"
Every look of mine&yours gathered from the past 21 years of living.

Fairy Tale

She feels like Sherlock Holmes has been combing her hair
All full of sleeping moths’ metamorphisizing inside her
Mysteries keep cutting out the electricity
On the edge of a verb
She could feel the devil dancing
To the rhythm of thunderstorm tongues
Wet with metaphors
Now shame is the shadow of love
And Sherlock Holmes is kissing her nipples
Twanging tongue to fire thigh
Cause freedom is a fleeting feeling
With the forest wedged between herself and the world
Deconstruct the layers
While she shifts to lessen the pain

isn't she lovely?

thank you louisiana for this

snow day

its time to start taking care of every aspect of myself. its time to get selfish.

young voice

The kids bang to the beats,
Skateboard to concrete,
Beer panhandle, land in on two feet.
Their wet ears can’t hear it
Rebound sounds of old poets spoken.
But I recognize that tongue,
My own mouth was once,
Young.

i find that this is the only pace:
aging bones and growing wrinkles.
a picture of the world upon a single face,
and time - the difference.

i find that there are many shapes,
 and many instruments that create them;
 fires for the forging make the dark a lesser place, 
never again so oppressive or binding.

sometimes, the people in my memories blur,
as if one could be another could be a third;
and sometimes, my memories aren't memories at all
but ghosts pretending, out of line with reality,
molded from formerly accurate shapes,
replete with embellishments.

i study these fictions as truths, 
the two now indiscernible like distant shadows ,
the rate at which they multiply absurd.

And ya see planes are coming down faster
Than I can catch em them.
Places I never knew the names to are smoking,
Smoldering, sweetly and then not
So sweetly , in me.
Leaving me heaving,
For once not weeping
Wishing water please, sweep
These trees into a cool sleep so I can speak
Freely.
Once again.