as the nail sunk in the cloud

the tears came down
were warm
and soaked us
I love you all

(I) love you even more than I did before

How’d you have room left
is the question in the morning
a less than subtle storming
her majesties and keep
coming hard feet running
the effrontery of the country
stands at your door step
demands the mansion itself
not just a single room to
pass one traveller‘s night

Was it when you knew I would
stay after the revolution
day not a one celebration
and done with ideology for
all time my ideal remains
the red of your veins white
of bodies we make strangers
to the sun and your flashes
blue into eyes remember the
fight but this time they don’t run

Who loves more than stories
peopled with dreamers per-
petual and fueled by move-
ments not of restless throngs
clamoring in their want but of
one footsteps set and its echo
following from a distance of
months but always gaining
and once our gap becomes in-
distinguishable, closes, think
not of love, think of nothing

out of range

Strange how a misfortune
can change into a saving
grace but I say nothing is
stranger than what we
lay down in our network it
grows a grid between these
distances reshape faces as in
not only appearance but de-
finition, what it means to talk
and not take no, no word, at
all at it for an answer when
words are lit up so are we

Your message displayed
the lip of a device that says
“it is beyond me,” keeping
in touch should not be the
province of a pocket “toy”
dog and pony show only
all glow and no texture so
listen not to the world, of
drives right now to diminish,
reduce, shrink everything
but us, for we have our own
devices to trust and to be
a light for more than a meter

Here is the truth, you don’t
need machines to tell you all
you already knew how you do
cry out with silent shouts,
how you bring to me a liturgy
of beliefs to beat any in-
fringement where we con-
fabulate it’s never too late to . . .

glisten to me

Maybe I am beautiful as you
say (I am) but it’s reflection
of all you‘ve got on me,
namely Amy, you, and a beauty
is truth seminar is not our
style in the after dark too
much emphasis on lecture
less on the delectable arts

So skip the jaw jabber and
stick with the projection
get overhead or on the wall,
bend an ear or lend over an
attendee afire your serving
of an essence less professional
than knowledge professorial
for your tutorial is taut not
the thing to skip, to hooky,
book me in for this lip service

Oh no you don’t listen to
me you glisten to me and I
by proximity am twenty-five
shades brighter – not just your
shine but your mind you’re
mine is bananas and that
fruit has all the verisimilitude
of my biography, a lesson to
teach the next lad a lass no
need to beg or ask for seconds
leave that to me re educational
headway the best way to (give)
bed giveaway as if you didn’t
my theme is in your outline

welcome home, too

It’ll be a homecoming no
we don’t leave each other
even if we do, we are not
lost nevermore wandering
in thought alien and sullen
of the one true haunt you
knew me when, reclusive
I was a ten year prophecy
prophet (with) me before
this (our) decade is let
end without us touching
to the only satellite I knew
I am a one man dismantling
crew wanting solely you

Sooner than we are done
we have history and place
in it – while we are still
living it (somewhere) in the
black we capture even that
absence with a presence
beyond comprehension or
ceiling of any cave in one
lost long forgotten post we
both will unearth uplift again

From vacuums we see
the swirl of yet to be
dimensions and fearless
keep peering as we approach
decline outside representation
eye blackness we are inclined
to be as the maritime riders
out of the dock they called
home but not in native song
as we do fixed to flit together

(the) first kiss

Not “a” or “our” but “the”
original of the species,
before puckering was just
another thing people did
Think of it, if thinking
entered into it unlikely
a couple of prototypes like
us locked into exactly
what a couple of kids need
to be screaming in three
quarters paired explorers
of congregations to follow
on but not a thought of
that now only two too raw
(unhewn)
Pause a wink and take it
in backlash to a lesson in
what flashes back to an
anatomy we feel the flush
of lips and pressure as no-
thing is unparalleled until
paralleled by a doubled pair
of self impressing endings
oh well the detection is
implicit in every nerve
(you’d. had. sensed.)

Explicit is the sound
coming from no mere
ho hum or sputter, no,
a tongue full throated
turning to noise not afraid
or braving an aggression that
befell but an outlet of bliss
a yell for the now and all
textured elicited tasted
this moment begins, is
the pristine honey dipper,
finders, we are reminders

There is no right way

I aim to tell you truest
I will get you through this
distrust of what your past
implanted there is nothing
in you to me in you to me
but what can be, rightly

Beyond mere words is faith
take it from me you can‘t
make a crime scene of me
take a pain not freely re-
leased and relented of one
mind that never does (mind)
just that which you enact

By right of your motive
that mickey’s taken out of
kidding gloves glistening and
white some other kid might
kick up a bit of a fuss but this
one just smiles by the bite

Tight in your front two teeth
right where your rodential
name sakes you your power
to chew is only one more
appetizer before your time
to dine love about you . . .

Incisor by my bed or
sore side I am smitten
by the ravenous unbridled
by what might be hiding
in the shadow of an old hor-
ror show I got it, right?
right! on cues on you

Perse Per Se

Kinda purple usually I
said when asked the color
of my sky, this world for a-
while now has been reflective
according to hers—then a red
or white or any blend can be
intimate give into it and no
misgivings come another
winter or sun restoring blood
hue until you don’t remember
the country drained white or
galling connotations of “cry”

I don’t know I say why
don’t wedraw it together
it’s not like a night of paint
by numbers debauchery
couldn’t be the saving
grace of continental syn-
agogue and cathedral we
need a renaissance of more
than mind, a consummation
of the cast in a line (divine)

My churches are a-worship
under nothing but stars
and of them one a hundred-
pointed or more approaching
infinity with each twinkle
in her a tint and shade made
radiant absorbency and waves
something saving more than
a pangea of souls in one par-
ticle splash meteoric plum
molten the more my one

what I miss (sixes and sevens)

You could fill your proverbial
gideons with another run of
the phenomena of luck
bell-view a belle belly
yer ready to be stuck
bullseye bingo buckle
up for the wheel is wild
and driver out of her mind

Outta here, struggle and
gear never having action
before engagement makes
contraptions shake and veer
from purposes imperial
all the nile by wheel we
came not from space ship
or quarry a body stacked up
for odds ferocious or impor-
tuned for you turn to deal

What I miss isn’t position
of the wheel or spin it is
the thrill for a fraction
and as least proponent
of arithmetic and odds
you are not at odds by me
to add to that my beastly half
shuffled into one piece (whole)
and I do feel it with each lap
we do, a revolution, a spin
wheel recent to our world

purposeful purple

You rule me and cerulean
can take a flying leap like I
can begin to high heaven low
mind and you on fire behind
the decidedly drawn brow
a bow you’re not down nor
out of how the rain arranges
cloudy channels cascades what
changes you a driving dye you
know I never bled or fled it

Writing like I might in a
child coloring pencil or cray-
on ever to play on a subtle
variation in a ray, arrayed
the way the same kinder
in her must be confronted
like a sign language silent
but painfully prominent on
display the prize of a mind’s
possession everything she
owned be mine nothing owed
to the unlimited light has been
in her since before our time

Violet, why do you get de-
prived, these defiant by gloo-
my eyes open finally on me
and all the clouds that they
contain are more elemental yet
layered than the rain we wrote
of volatile hopes like two li-
lacs sitting not in pots on sills
but violaceous inviolate vines
vivacious and like the wild you
can’t run from the end of (one)

you have all the time you care to take

You’ve a book and I in
turn turn in an academy
of words and years to turn
them from worthless to worth
while you ride out all the roads
an imagination exposes and
turn off the beaten and turn
on more than engines ramps
and low rumbles but while a
chain and mutual reaction fleets
not as the eager devourer of
trees but one running to…

You, your clocks non-stop
though you never thought to
turn your eyes its mechanized
turn the first piece precision
the second its glory ground
as any so wound appliance
grinds its way there will be
pieces in our day a pledge
I aim exceedingly to plant
firmly your feet in my belief

A loop of alarms, you have,
all silent and seemingly
minor I know otherwise I’ve
perceived you’ve grieved these
years they intervene into this
instant we are simultaneous,
together, staring down, mar-
king the cadence of our own
steps pacing hearts so far so . . .
so ours, so slow the hours
before our show down
so down slow down

the you you are is

(Is) One continuous shell as
if the entire coast of our low
country was one imperious
fruit impervious were you
here you were imperial as
caesars in their purple
strode those lost stretches to
the east what a feast were
we to sample in victory I
leave the outer sheaf a husk
to the others while the mush
in the inmost must be mine

The I I am is empha-
sized behind my eyes em-
pathetic as the peripatetic
rovers over empire borders
ride the might of arms into
the sea into me we lay down
the need to frustrate threats
from to the west(ern) twirls
of a menacing piece of hard-
ware ready to shower lead or
shatter any body under a ban-
ner raised and wave these airs

[What we do we do is as]
a way safe from unanimous
slings so bellicosely fitted or
baroquely slipped my stones
are not a fit for war wrapped
in a belt or inside my folded
sleeve no know they are no
longer loaded to leave these
hands in waves invading and
wrest of goliaths my command

I hate that I can’t get (you) out of my head (Oddments)

You can get me but I can’t
get out your decaded shout
drawing near sing the dirge
you were learned to raise
somberness to lips without
a like-minded pilgrim to make
light of the dark— to dispel
the dispositions that impel
you to live through each
new fault as though the last
hadn’t cracked, hadn’t had
you backed into its abyss
as eagerly as I lift you as
your weight was my own

My thoughts are only partially
so, the solo re-conciliation of
re-considerations we may be
coupled under (un)buckling
as the old bridges did that
day tremors came re-placed
the minor pains in you lost
balance but that doorway
stands as you managed to do
nothing else to do, continue

Left behind to mind—
not that I do—we do
make it through rubble plain
as you could never truly
be drab as the standpoints
tripping our feet drifting
in and then finally out of
remnants of houses that fell
(and left, as needs, arise)

Phantom Pain CBS

Phantom pain taken
and changed by blithe
creation to bonnet comma
charlie B syndrome be me
oh my my eye is another
firmament come undone
doesn’t mean the decline
is not to be enjoyed big
slide like a second for shor-
tening sight taking over

How nutty would Hitler have
been with two, or Chuck
Close with even one fun-
ctioning limb and blissfully
hearing wasn’t the medium
we remember vincent vG for
or the legendary form of
venus‘ inability to hug
she could still tug hearts
and thighs string wider like
tuts smile higher than Dickie
3’s hump nelson got his eye
on long johnny’s stump

The further disturber
of your teutonic mien is
are thurber’s no worders
even needed why didn’t I
think to thank that vacuous
ocular socket for prompting
one to tune into the CBS

(as vestigial limb of the state
or prehensile bandy (banter)
striving for or striving to shape

baked good(s)

My comfort comes before
dawn, in my town and home
the hopeful aroma long
known, of the application
of fire to flour once
smaller than the hour
now fatter than the
pinch of faster hands

This I have lived with
the cinnamon and fat
of autumn fruits
(excuses)
and poorer uses
to growbeside and
accustomed to
easy bloom, apples
collapse as food for bait

Thus the appetite
a garlic soaked delight
and I long afterward
confide the impolite
immensity of what
frenzy fed on me


(Your)
Words
white space herder
purer expression than
rests in these, in me

Muscle memory

If you ever want to dance
while forgetting the music,
the alphabet and still rhyme
do it until you do, schooled
to learn so little effort has
wrested the same effect

Fine and gross, reflexive
reflective and motorious
uproars for wedding orators
and downpours for the last
maid breaking, down and pout
with nowt but now been given
another day to take inter-
change to interest for this
traditional tissue exchange

Tendon, ligament,
nerf or spine not mine
like death is efficacious
the more spacious the tomb
before and or after rotting
has begun been resumed
leaving home you and hope
hanging like window dressings
meat and bone retreated

Skeletons remember less
than we outside our own-
calcified and counting out
history by dentition a
narrative by a single rib
with that titbit armed write
of a life as time whittled it

Clapped the erasers

Afternoon, and you
were asked not after but
during class to clap the
erasers maybe you’d waited
your turn for weeks to walk
by them all and outside
together not against the wall
flaps as absences and de-
merits dally by the flag pole

In the opening notes
like kodachrome we all
become nostalgia susceptible
or laugh at what would miff
present day administrators
such was the gift of inhaling
freedom with chalk dust
plaid skirts for adolescent
lust and busted mercury
thermometers dropping on
me—always free to walk it off
on the way home, no note found

So there you have or had it—
not to choke on or rankle,
castigate or glowingly paint
no sane man would endanger
students or sons when wisdom
weighs the outcomes against
a suspension of species
of genetics and its end

opposoble thumb

Quite literally by that, what
was seen as opposition from the
thrusting what this way comes
snappy clicks and clicking
snaps like any gifted wrap
merrys more in the lifting

Straps and bad attitudes
from the cutting from the use
better to hand loosed it all
than tearing it and burying
it up all the scissors need
to cut is a far-fetching seam
and a thumb to slice, and an
eye to thereby lose its greedy
gleam or sew it seems under-
mined or inspired by sack
cloths and wires my entire
clan can call to mind sacra-
mental mornings ‘fore the spires

So much began with the one
digit making flipping it un-
even or dreaming up the (godless)
business of buttons for
once in your non-tropical but
delight filled life pay the due
of thought for dewy mornings
lost tossing spears, following
up northflowing torrents
for the force of horse and
ocean so kicking it goes
you wont hold the handle
so well if knuckles let you fall

Self-sacrifice

An advice submitted
and I would give blood
to pages wholly created
what is a life’s work like
love right from proposal to
compact and labors raised
what can be erased or
what we lay down for

All stories had one
source to love or covet
what we got was not
coddling was not abuse
a frequency to tune
all following yearnings in
to take the pains of prophets
and accessories of would be
princesses to the local meet
too local so you’ll swap
pride placed in ornament and
portrait for no more wound

Why this trial of the
day to day was arrived at
has no need of asking,
for it is, and in it
let us live, or do what
must be done so others can
as we would wish, not foolish
enough to (gain)say the first

“all in good time”

I said it knowing well
every dimension intended
in and on the line, of itself
and my punctual appearance
a functional adherence to
orbits and gears I’ve been
sublimely severed from

Above us voices discuss
the visibility of billboards
just a mask overboarding
the viability of our word—
fuzzwords passwords buzzwords
loanwords broken word atoned
word all curses among
us sworn the first worthy
of (taking) the time to read

For time is my catch-
word not so much served
as observed and from its
non linear bars we are
all under/over its served
her forget me not ticks or
haunt me talks passing
down to the one who
plots your dot with
every breadth given

Humanizing

Humanizing is simple
as it began every man
for his mama’s canal

Humanized more than
an afternoon shadow
or tidally powered
glower now encountered
and counted among
law since its foundation.
A temple contemplated,
the binding range of
adoration and rage are
all there, contained.

Excuse me, pardon
me and forbear the more
deplorable entrances
from the trenches to peak
we have explored climbing
aboard Sinai and slide by
givers of strictures and
bell ringers both, boasting
neither of the visitation
nor of the host

I am frail
and known to fail
making me equally
snuffed and esteemed
depending on your feeling
for gruffness or green

Lightning

I had a thought of you
catching atmosphere and
capturing space, it was true
to the heraldic spark of us
both willing to be told
and tell where the bolt fell

License exists in the blitz—
a single word as summoner
of all potential we keep
in lament and success,
insomuch a siege,
nonetheless a breach,
like iceberg etiquette
we wouldn’t let forget—
it is summer’s essence
not captured or distilled,
caught in bottles and lost

(Part-y)

Party or a
propensity to split
a fleeting description
and I take to the sea
displacing salty waves
by my roman carriage

Infinitesimal
infant is man
giving his reaction
opposite but equal
the way the laces fit
over under in and out

man the crab-apple
once a hermit but
now a sail afloat
tickling gravity
a piece of Newton‘s fruit
now pusillanimous flotsam

No walking on the water
no clawing at the door
or pincer grip here
just ears and eyes
riding the tide out
with the pull of the moon

Trots

Where do you wanna wear me
in a house on a plane
in a box with a fox
but this is no child’s rhyme
though there be giggles
tickles and silliness
wiggles and smiles that hurt
a good way and still better
wager sweater petter
now I swagger with my
head spun and possessed—

Only a mnemonic thing
jived inside me so Sue
the only thought I know
a bella-nymic instinct
the shape of sound
we apply to identity
is more than meaning
the attribute of tone
the vibrato of throat
moreso I have chosen
choked up but beholden
of books I boldly attest

18th

Hold the handle of the broom
brush and push it
janitor and witchery
till the dust descends
flakes of skin dead remnants
in layers to draw a line in

Trace our characters
words in the absence made
where your finger drags
the meaning in relief
clings the region between
indistinguishable heights

More than wedge and scratches
bursting out everywhere
a living intestine a jane
like rain summoned worms
squirming and contorting
till their position is frozen

Wiggle mortis but with rigor
words were formed in a form
not washed away with the
sunken invertebrates
or indifferent erosion
for the river not the silt

desire to classify

There is poison in the bush
but which bit of it and how
do we keep gamily going
from dining and dying
bright colors might invite
desire to taste but make
a fine signpost for the
mind to slide on down
for more edible hedges

Headmen—ideal for thinking
folk and etymologies may
not be scientific but some-
times the admonition of
society misguided can keep
us alive to try another
fish or fly from another
spider how right to be frightened
between beside and inside. her

Red—green light for single-
track macaques happy to
have your back, but right out
if aft of the thorax on that
arachnid we run it traffic
cam be damned when there’s
life, village, or dawn the largess
of the recluse is excessive, dear

Green—red when alight
weed making irie tight
and an easy sight arriving
after winters blight the eyes
with brown but turn around
from the under-ripe and night-
shade or reptile close-shaves
saves the cranium-owner
for more outdoor explor-
ations and from a wicked tum

correspondence course

It was an education, the
beginning of elimination
of distance by tried and hard
paper and tire, not drive
or wire less we wrote of tests
for what we could be barely
dreaming of the next

Progression, a little bit
of postage and ink and
an era waiting to be told
the road is open but pot-
holes and over-dear pet-
roleum foreign, hardwood
an erosion all despise
despair devised while
prolonging your memorial

Correspondence thus is
another rotoscope for dodos
(backhanded and backlit)
to show their fellow ghosts
and more with-it patricians
can sit through fairy stories
of before his father or he’s
diddled another houseful
of mouthbreathing rowdies
no reason how proud he’s
been of sinister kin-fuck

King of a buried court,
not concurrent to contem-
porary discourse there will be
a day when antiquated sheets
of no-names will be paid great
remuneration for conspicuous
trinkets to hang where scholars
are as display to neighbors

fear mongering

We began inseparable
from it, fear, eyes open,
body naked in an arrangement
ante-dating shame, before we
see it was ingrained in the shaking
you see in the elderly hand
fighting to stay steady, to stay
succumbing the coming end

In that hesitation a power
was raised, an angry child
always bearing teeth, full of
bile, pre-conditional, just try
and diagnose any cause other
than dark forces for dark horses
deciding for the courses where
to place and who-when to ride

An alleviation need is
as old as the breed, rustic
as 3-cornered shelter pre-
tending to be a full house all
about the edifice without
foundation, basis, imperfect
wish to see tremors, a quake
in others nothing more than
inaudible hope for capsizing
one’s own invisible shivers

song

With a listening device
the cries might be amplified
but they were not categorical
dismissable with one listen

Before we had it to set aside
the way a day may prevail
upon poor nomads for want of
salt merchants for the fear of
assault thieves for agonies
that lead to street walking
monks after chanting moments
gripped that this contemplative
way all they know may be hollow

Unlike thy name mine is
full of silent letters as read
they were taken from pages
promiscuous with revelations
and promised us not just land
for what good is husbanded
or raised from canaan came
food ripe as dew to earth

We were children silenced
by two years near pulpit cries
but not idle, not attentive
even flipping through the same
praise-assumption-you-us
not even novices feel the worst
in the word as ordered, feel
all ends angelic as a song

royalty

It’s but a small country-
gazing outward to observe
a tapestry of so many
petty landholdings clamoring
for manor status where one
family can dominate a dozen
just within a doyen’s run

Do you accept the birthing,
your lap granted expanse
none else possess, how you let
untested treasures invert your
progress in the world, all crinkled
maps and pinions standing
firm for spirits long dead

Prithee pithy be
my liege and egregious
leech on all well being
creatures peopling these
meager boundaries you buy
and bleed, thoughtlessly
till we in latter day with
equal lack of thought
accept the tinted god that
brought us to this land,
these overreaching leaders and
these overtaxed knees

barbed wire

One more way to cut a man
from a farmhand’s hands an
intimate invention upended
whole segments of endeavor,
gentry and sentries alike
modified by a simple twist
of this extruded wire

Shepherd and soldier
savior of strays muzzle and
firefight loader stoke ignite
your countryside once defined
by benign ducalities sat
besides themselves and un-
mounted, unlike casualties waited
for old men to send them again
to be mown as herds at home—
grazed.

Snagged—old wool and rags
on rusted teeth that keep their
vigor skin and tear are all
left us to prove and be aware
we are pickets in the thick of it
(thickets the exodus kept)
<embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X3Q7OnZOgdg?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&quot; type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="390

Log in to write a note