Space is the Water We Swim

The last day of winter,
Little Spring lifting,
What is this thing called bOunCE?
Bunnie got banged!

Month of my soul's gray,
Sky's of murk and steel,
The skies eternally cry!
My house weeps in lament.

Moons of hidden wanderers,
Stars of blanketed nights,
This winter is pretty much over!
Only the birds and frogs know it.

When too do flowers know
When do buds grow closer to green
What street is washed away
What nature swells to press earths belly

It is the rain that baptizes our soul
And love but right now pregnant
...in worlds of liquid sunshine, and vitamin D...

Time is the Fire We Each Burn in!

I lie in imagery
Your living room
Box-like furniture in a boxlike room
In a box-like house on a box-like world

BUT THE WORLD IS ROUND!

We shelve these ideas, because...
...it burns...
We burn with the fire of Life
In all our sands of time
we did not start the fire

And so to soar in a world that comes round
To fly free and feel worlds beneath feet
!This could not be uS! with wind in feather
But there's the valley, there's the highway
There's the trees and the street and streetlight gleaming
We lift our wing to the future everyday
Everyway we make it happen
Because we are free



And the oxygen feeds our flame
Slowly feeding us what we want
To consume our soul, until done
We want every ounce, every pound
To Burn! To Burn! Live! Live!

While we may breath, and bread, and breed, and bean
Life's narrow hallowed living

I feel humbled we are so straightforward
Our words like forklift, or picture, or flashlight
And my poems sooo abstract
I think if I imagined more than conversation
I'd be here with you, saying be kind, sweetie.
Above all else, be kind, love.
And then go back to painting.

The Replacement Living

I wonder and I walk upon a kinnari beach
Is this so great?  Is this so me?
My mountains are clear and cold to the bone
I relax here, I sleep to be shoken, I do not wake
I do not wake from impending disaster
The ocean washes all stress away but I die.

Is there no noesis, no perception and intelligence?
It is the third science... that which replaces science...
Which had replaced. faith.. noesis...
What comes after the end, why am I so dark?
Why must this inspiration come from our generation??
And why must worlds fall? to be?? reborn???

I must say that's the 1&    and the 3& of it all, to do...
two steps forward to noesis from gnosis, to see..
to sea, to free, to be, and maybe to lee
and hide in cool shade while bullshit pleads
I need not, but a kinnari beach!

And sweet noesis.. ah to perceive and think!
What is this science, anyway, with blinded mule!

My Dream Last Night while I Lucidly Slept

Dream a little dream
of Elements surrounding
In some dark space
Not the least forboding

Add some spice Add some flavor
Make the Elements some to savor
See the blocks come alive too
Add the world so they do favor you

Come the fifth and final last
What comes back to you perchance
A dream of a little dream they dream for you
Something living you now have, true.

Leave the world and now come back
Have it one's hand for our stash
Place them, cherish them, and help your world
For through our dreams we are living, too.

Through our feeling we are creating
Through our thoughts and deeds we are, too.
If one thinks the worst of people, you will find it,
As intuition melds these thoughts and deeds and feelings through.
What comes to one is real, are you?  Are you?

Easter-April 1st

Today,

My cousin got out of the hospital...

Joy and Terror surround me...

Will I always be this lonely...

Will I always be sane in an insane world...

What kind of sanity Is that then...

I walk,
      to the store,
                and put a two twenty-five down...
For another beer.

Is life chaotic,
             Certainly.

I want a friend, but not a roomate.

And when the edges meet, do the pieces mate?

A Moonbeam Upon the Night

The Moon Base is ready
Already frigates steady
With Silicon Carbide hulls
Poured to exacting measure, fully.

The moon dust easily scooped
And carbon shipped from earth
Oxygen in our habitats pooped
With food on the way, in dirt.

What then is deep space and mad men?
Gone, from the borders of sanity...
Gone from sight and sound...
They keep losing their minds in hyperdrive.

Humanity needs the golden,
Only we can save ourselves.
If only we could sleep,
And pilot reality from our dreams!

Ahh, but if we could dream!
And real while we pilot sleep!
Then, what is the abyss to the common Man I ask you!
For the sleeper Awakens!

Then no silicon-carbide ship shall be dry-docked.
They shall explore the deep night connected by daylight
And keep the stars in their wake under every moon!

A thousand star-dust nights then could smile
And me with them with you, too, Here;
And open beer would celebrate my return, Everytime!

Inheriting the World

Of the black
To the gray
Which way makes me better
My face may be rearranged
If I can't get over my vanity
I need to get over my inadequency
To set my life in Victory,
as well as to source the strength for freedom.

Of the gray
To the White
The fight within
The fight without
To be bigger stronger faster
Until one's wizened life is buried:
smarter, wiser, germain.

The One-Headed Monsters

Twixt the government assist
Safety nets and the like;
And social supports in heights
Lifting people up through prayers
And social giving of charity.

People selfish, People hypocritical
Self-same problem of the commons hypothetical
Giving/taxes and/or Charity do help us
But without outside oversight regulating
There isn't enough for everyman's greed.

How you get there does matter,
(For capital or social safety nets)
Life isn't one or the other
But two heads are better than one:
Both giving and charity..
Doing and sitting with a cup of tea;
One needs a life to enjoy their time.

That's what my taxes pay for
While you all charging war on a credit card.
The world provides enough for everyperson's need,
But not enough for everyperson's greed;
And That is the Problem of the Commons mind.

A Hundred and 99 Words For Work, And Paycheck Isn't One of Them

There is a poem in me
That sings and dances
I only know the rhythm
As it twines around my bones
Like ivy pushing out my skull

The poem creeps up
Sprouting leaf here And leaf there
Questing the sunlight and heavens
As the poem roots into my marrow

This joins me to the rest of the world
Great green loving worlds of life and breath
Connecting in like to those whose bones
Are being crushed and reborn from the inside out

I don't think there is a plan or fate,
What I do think.. is that there's Work
Work that makes more work...
And work that gives back...
makes one feel better, heals,
creates while being created.

Like the ivy, this poem creates soil,
Breaks up the dirt into tinier problems,
Makes room for more air and purifies,
And leaves leaflets for tomorrows' sunrises.

This is not mine anymore in sleep's hold
I give this to you, so that you may grow
And dance, too, while knowing no song or tune
To lift spirits higher in greener worlds
We drink of earths and skies eternal
While it snows cold outside, we can dance with life.