when i trace my finger along the touchpad
it moves across the rows of hearts
that burst against the pointer
as it only touches each of them
penetrates, a cascade of explosions
quickly recovering themselves, one as one
returning to the perfect frame
of rounded, soft red organs
do not persist in fear, the wolves will eat you
cowering is no defense
bound with the palm leaves, attack with the stem
you bless your luck you have, you move forward
curled toes, they stub
and bloody stumps can’t run
momentum is required to fly
to lift the flaps, to see the skies
you must trust the lift
unknown forces, pressure filled gifts
so much has happened in the course of a few short weeks. i think i’ve lived more in this short time than i have in awhile. it’s the climax of the risk/reward scenario. i am simultaneously losing everything and gaining everything… my freedom. i’m so grateful the way it has shaken down, at least today. lets hope these blessings continue. and if not, i have resolved myself to the idea that i have enough to give to everyone – every tax man, every punishing homeowners board, every pathogen, every criticizing wagging finger. i have so much to give to all of you that i can afford to share my money, my time and my love. i am grateful for the chance, because it means i have survived another day to carry on the greatest purpose, which is to share. loss of theft isn’t possible when you’re willing to give it all away.
but it’s still a good idea to lock your doors.
happiness
peppered with the tiny feet of danger
often named Puck
precipitate a little tear
knowing death can’t end you all
the source of my abundance
like giving birth
holding out my hands to you
who accepts the offering
isn’t just to take
it’s a way of being given life
like giving birth
enduring message
motherly abundance, giving gifts
laying down foundations, bridging rifts
patching up the world is not the game
making new, simple and plain
like giving birth
sage will clear the space of sex
i am losing my pretext
will you correct
will you correct
angry forces
i need a wick on which to burn
i have the latent gift
to bring the fates to men
who have long since avoided them
watching to wait, seeing the game again
it’s never my place
so stand aside and watch the wave commence
cringe for his unsteady footing
i know the way to root the toes
but every word once spoken
mimics angrier commands
teaching the boy he isn’t trusted
to be a man
and i bend like the willow
a branch to grab when stumbling
letting the wash come over
salt water tickles and erodes
but always inspires some new growth
so my arbor arms remain the promise above the surface
the silent oath
you bring out
my oldest valence
without a doubt
i am your shaman
can i show you
the way to the bottom
of the chain
it’s a gift
i remember
your kiss and the way i feel
is older than i wish was real
something changed
inside me
breaking loose a reverie
of a time
before that which i forgot
love as motivating force
love changing my life’s course into
home is not as your wife
but home yes will change your life and
i’m circling back to my
oblivion
and it’s a shame you are
clueless in your modern human suit
of what to do
under clothing
i am still a body
with a big memory
can you listen
is it a game
yes, without shame
i will show you
how transient it all is
murmur in the void of your bliss
there’s a path or a road or a green knoll
and you take large steps or leap to run
and maybe stumble, for fun
to roll or slide across a wet muck
getting dirty
the cold earth, the errant branch
it’s only life
where are you? off in a head space
arguing theories
thinking tangentially
afraid of the blades
though they’re inches tall
smell it won’t hurt you
the messy nourishment
that comes with subtle danger
it’s only life
are you waking up?
gentle rain drops or a furious slap
either kind wakes a terrified mind
wandering off the earth that forms a path
trying to find the way back into the womb
a safe place
there is no safe place
but it’s only life
going to keep my agenda
plain on paper with a metal chain
holds me to the real as firm and plain
as the hands of a washing woman
survival is easy
if you want to live, play
it’s only life
i’m your
sacred place for
intimacy
intimate me
who, can you
redefine
your light is the heart of mine
you give me, i can
only smile
i give you, you can only grow
bliss as the interchange
bliss as the exchange
bliss as the circular, telegram
bliss as the well sewn monogram
i’m an engine!
take me to far places
heat your meals
feel the vibrations
hear the sound
beneath the sun there is a blade of grass
three inches tall, and striving
he worships up, desires to
the sun, is only for him, perhaps
the planets turn around
the sun, for this peculiar
slice of life, a shred
the sun changes direction
in six days the world will end
six days, and i will forfeit rights
the blade is helpless, innocent
but arrogant in his desire
an eager boot will block his precious sun
from him, submitting him to
a firm pressure. she is running across a muddy lawn
unknown why, but now in shadow
then crushed