there are people elsewhere
singing the world into being
waves crashing on shores
come from vocal chords
and from drums
the world is a song
sung by singing dreamers
who make us in their image
with sounds
Friday, June 25, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
“In the darkness of the hour when I loved her”
In the darkness
the blood wells up in veins and the shady tree covers my grave
I lay in the wet earth dying for every day
laying here in the sunlight -remember-
your dreams they become realties
(remember your nightmares)
in the mirror I see myself as the dark eyed
elvish sidhe that I might have been
the changeling spirit that came through
the window
through the spirit through the nightfall
and I became the demon that haunted my days
candles burn and the wax smells
“I love and am loved”
by a small part of the earth
where the tree bears fruit
not of knowledge but of passion
the mirror cries but I do not recognize
her tears
flesh is madness
love is flesh
therefore to love flesh is to be mad
impoverished by the truth
sometimes the
darkness is the
hour when she loved me.
In the darkness
the blood wells up in veins and the shady tree covers my grave
I lay in the wet earth dying for every day
laying here in the sunlight -remember-
your dreams they become realties
(remember your nightmares)
in the mirror I see myself as the dark eyed
elvish sidhe that I might have been
the changeling spirit that came through
the window
through the spirit through the nightfall
and I became the demon that haunted my days
candles burn and the wax smells
“I love and am loved”
by a small part of the earth
where the tree bears fruit
not of knowledge but of passion
the mirror cries but I do not recognize
her tears
flesh is madness
love is flesh
therefore to love flesh is to be mad
impoverished by the truth
sometimes the
darkness is the
hour when she loved me.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
roots of evil (a song of some sort)
The darkest hour has a silver lining
look up in the sky
and see the pieces fall
the darkest cloud has a lighter side
I am empty
and I am all
The darkest night
is full of children
all living the nightlife
The bleakest day
is full of children
struggling
we all are the products
of the madness within us
and the chaos and order
outside
The darkest cloud has a silver lining
every forest grows green
paper money is a forest of evil
and a wealth of riches
everything we own
we own till we die
nothing is owned
nothing is owned
nothing is owned
but ash
(silver and gray lining...)
look up in the sky
and see the pieces fall
the darkest cloud has a lighter side
I am empty
and I am all
The darkest night
is full of children
all living the nightlife
The bleakest day
is full of children
struggling
we all are the products
of the madness within us
and the chaos and order
outside
The darkest cloud has a silver lining
every forest grows green
paper money is a forest of evil
and a wealth of riches
everything we own
we own till we die
nothing is owned
nothing is owned
nothing is owned
but ash
(silver and gray lining...)
Monday, June 14, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
“Goddess”
the love that bears a scar
long winding scar
all the way down the muscle
of my heart
It stopped
just once
and then I thought
I was having a heart attack
but it was just exhaustion
the despair that I feel
when I think of you
is matched only by the bliss
of your coming and going
the natural branches of this
tree
that flow through my body
pull energy out of the air
and filter through my heart
my chest heaves and sighs
and tears run down my cheeks
I plant one tree at a time
remembering what
it felt like
to have roots
when you go you take the earth with you
as far as she will turn
when you go
you take the heavens with you
when you go
sweet life of living
you take my past and bury it
in the Earth
where children will find it
while playing out in the dunes
Mother goddess
when you die
the world dies with you
and the life of the air becomes
hot and dead
The spirit of the essence
of the tree of life
wells up in my throbbing soul
and bursts bleeding
heart running away from itself
all over the ground
asphalt is lovely and is home to the heart
when all else fails
your coming and going
brings breath
to my lungs
and soil to dip my roots in
may you never die
long winding scar
all the way down the muscle
of my heart
It stopped
just once
and then I thought
I was having a heart attack
but it was just exhaustion
the despair that I feel
when I think of you
is matched only by the bliss
of your coming and going
the natural branches of this
tree
that flow through my body
pull energy out of the air
and filter through my heart
my chest heaves and sighs
and tears run down my cheeks
I plant one tree at a time
remembering what
it felt like
to have roots
when you go you take the earth with you
as far as she will turn
when you go
you take the heavens with you
when you go
sweet life of living
you take my past and bury it
in the Earth
where children will find it
while playing out in the dunes
Mother goddess
when you die
the world dies with you
and the life of the air becomes
hot and dead
The spirit of the essence
of the tree of life
wells up in my throbbing soul
and bursts bleeding
heart running away from itself
all over the ground
asphalt is lovely and is home to the heart
when all else fails
your coming and going
brings breath
to my lungs
and soil to dip my roots in
may you never die
"Earth Bloom"
earth bloom
The angle of your lips
meets the curve of your hips
The lexicon of your hair
speaks as it moves
I long to place fingers
just there and there
you are like a tall
twisted tree
with moss hanging down
covering the skin of your thighs
there is love here
beneath my fingers
they caress caves
of quiet
solitude in the specter
of your passion
I fall restless
and relentless
between sheets
that are heavy and
burdened with sweat...
the dream of your body
and your hands
luminous with fire
seem to burn in my
deepest thought
I long to plunge
my tongue into
flesh and meet skin
with my deepest
humility open
and unflattering
your body
like a river
flows through my
fantasies
and unburdens
itself through sex
I love and am loved
by a spirit of nature
so profound
that it calls me forth
from my bed
into the day
blooming like a
sunflower
the haze
of passion
becomes
red lights
in the sky
on the horizon
at night
in a city where
love is never
forgotten
only remembered
by its earthly bloom
The angle of your lips
meets the curve of your hips
The lexicon of your hair
speaks as it moves
I long to place fingers
just there and there
you are like a tall
twisted tree
with moss hanging down
covering the skin of your thighs
there is love here
beneath my fingers
they caress caves
of quiet
solitude in the specter
of your passion
I fall restless
and relentless
between sheets
that are heavy and
burdened with sweat...
the dream of your body
and your hands
luminous with fire
seem to burn in my
deepest thought
I long to plunge
my tongue into
flesh and meet skin
with my deepest
humility open
and unflattering
your body
like a river
flows through my
fantasies
and unburdens
itself through sex
I love and am loved
by a spirit of nature
so profound
that it calls me forth
from my bed
into the day
blooming like a
sunflower
the haze
of passion
becomes
red lights
in the sky
on the horizon
at night
in a city where
love is never
forgotten
only remembered
by its earthly bloom
small victories: LSG friday June 11 2010
tonight I passed a woman on the street saying to her dealer
“no...I don't want to shoot anymore”
on my way past her to the taqueria
I thought about all the little dramas
that go on around me
all the losses
and victories
that people hide
in every day conversation
I wished her luck
silently
and cursed the demon
that followed her down the street
uttering “well what are you doing tonight then?”
parasite. I thought.
Tonight the music was good
loud and angry and enveloping and random
as good noise music should be
I forgot about the lady and her problem
and I had my burrito
in a room full of pale
faces
the night flew by
lights outside blurring to the sound
of chaos
I love it here
I took pictures of the bathroom
such an art piece,
lonely
the walls bleed graffiti
I sit and write about
life
I hope that woman stays straight
I thought
it haunted me the whole way home...
“no...I don't want to shoot anymore”
on my way past her to the taqueria
I thought about all the little dramas
that go on around me
all the losses
and victories
that people hide
in every day conversation
I wished her luck
silently
and cursed the demon
that followed her down the street
uttering “well what are you doing tonight then?”
parasite. I thought.
Tonight the music was good
loud and angry and enveloping and random
as good noise music should be
I forgot about the lady and her problem
and I had my burrito
in a room full of pale
faces
the night flew by
lights outside blurring to the sound
of chaos
I love it here
I took pictures of the bathroom
such an art piece,
lonely
the walls bleed graffiti
I sit and write about
life
I hope that woman stays straight
I thought
it haunted me the whole way home...
Friday, June 4, 2010
Schizophrenia
Schizophrenia
There is something bigger than us,
It pulls no punches
Cares not about our disbelief
Something beyond time walks in and out of our memories
Sometime talks to us through the voices of many
The birds in the trees, the TV and the radio
Are all one voice
Speaking to us of a multitude that is really \
ONE
One voice echoes out across fields of wheat and grain
One voice speaks down through time
The clouds hold hieroglyphs
And the stones hold fingerprints
Evolution itself is a message to us
A book is in my body \
\more accurate than any bible
My ancestors speak to me with my voice\
And tell me of rapes and deaths and failures \
And births and holidays and infants who grew to be strong.
The one is inside my skull, telling me things I am to
Inarticulate too understand. Things about time and about love
That are utterances of the beyond. There are Kami in the world...
Lovely ones that are draped in grasses and moss and sunlight/
And there are songs that tell more about the world then even a
Single word could, unless that word was in a language that only birds and
Radios understand.
There is something bigger than us,
It pulls no punches
Cares not about our disbelief
Something beyond time walks in and out of our memories
Sometime talks to us through the voices of many
The birds in the trees, the TV and the radio
Are all one voice
Speaking to us of a multitude that is really \
ONE
One voice echoes out across fields of wheat and grain
One voice speaks down through time
The clouds hold hieroglyphs
And the stones hold fingerprints
Evolution itself is a message to us
A book is in my body \
\more accurate than any bible
My ancestors speak to me with my voice\
And tell me of rapes and deaths and failures \
And births and holidays and infants who grew to be strong.
The one is inside my skull, telling me things I am to
Inarticulate too understand. Things about time and about love
That are utterances of the beyond. There are Kami in the world...
Lovely ones that are draped in grasses and moss and sunlight/
And there are songs that tell more about the world then even a
Single word could, unless that word was in a language that only birds and
Radios understand.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
The soul loves (a "swirl")
The soul loves
the soul loves without purpose
without knowing why
the soul loves beyond reason
or meaning
the soul loves into absurdity
someone who cannot be touched
with physical hands
the soul reaches into infinite depths
the soul finds pennies in crevasses like
rain drops made of metal
the soul bares itself to the wheeling ceiling of stars
crying out for its lost love
someone is absent from the soul
it calls for its love blind and desperate
the soul belongs to no one
not to God not to man not to Earth or sun
yet it pines and calls to its other half
In this world souls drop from the webs
of spiders like tiny droplets of rain
and they find their way to bodies
that long to touch each other.
was sex all that touch meant?
Touch is divine, souls touching other souls
find joy in the bliss of physical bond.
To miss another is to miss a limb
to miss your love is to miss the
very world.
Hands are not hands
the flesh of flesh is “really just atoms
swirling in space”
my swirl touched your swirl and for a moment
they became a funnel.
Love is always without form
there is no body
that can hold this love
it is its own
formless anguish
of desire and
sorrow.
Love touches love and then dances away,
just like in the movies, there is a going and
a return. You spiral over to me, we dance
then you spiral away.
The stars have a destiny that is similar...
they turn and burn and rotate and dance
and they love, oh yes they love.
the soul loves without purpose
without knowing why
the soul loves beyond reason
or meaning
the soul loves into absurdity
someone who cannot be touched
with physical hands
the soul reaches into infinite depths
the soul finds pennies in crevasses like
rain drops made of metal
the soul bares itself to the wheeling ceiling of stars
crying out for its lost love
someone is absent from the soul
it calls for its love blind and desperate
the soul belongs to no one
not to God not to man not to Earth or sun
yet it pines and calls to its other half
In this world souls drop from the webs
of spiders like tiny droplets of rain
and they find their way to bodies
that long to touch each other.
was sex all that touch meant?
Touch is divine, souls touching other souls
find joy in the bliss of physical bond.
To miss another is to miss a limb
to miss your love is to miss the
very world.
Hands are not hands
the flesh of flesh is “really just atoms
swirling in space”
my swirl touched your swirl and for a moment
they became a funnel.
Love is always without form
there is no body
that can hold this love
it is its own
formless anguish
of desire and
sorrow.
Love touches love and then dances away,
just like in the movies, there is a going and
a return. You spiral over to me, we dance
then you spiral away.
The stars have a destiny that is similar...
they turn and burn and rotate and dance
and they love, oh yes they love.
3 a.m.
Sometimes I lay in darkness
and think about the day and all it's happenings
and the time slides by and the night goes on
right past me.
In those nights, I wonder about the state of the world,
of myself the Earth and all it's inhabitants.
It seems to me that we are not doomed.
But there is so much that is frightening in every day life
the dark of night seems to press in on me as I contemplate
oil spills and death and economic downturns, the consistent
trashing of the earth in the name of mindless profit to feed the
egos of the pointlessly greedy.
I wonder if the demons in my head will let me sleep, or if they will
taunt me all night. Sometimes even a cup of mint tea and 3 aspirin
will do no good.
On nights like this, I wonder who to turn to?
I am skeptical of Jesus, Buddha, Allah, all the saints and all the Hindu gods and goddesses...
somehow they seem to either be dead icons of madness cults
or they are all the same being reaching out to us from a great beyond that is so far past human comprehension it would take every bible in the world and every other book too, to equal a minuscule moment of it's tiny-ist thought.
Either way, I gave prayer a try.
Sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't.
I have had some luck. But not with oil spills off gulf coasts, or stopping the AIDS virus or ending starvation. God is peculiar or non-existent.
More aspirin...?
no... writing instead.
Is love God? Then why does love often lead us to misery? Is money God? only if the root of all evil is God...is compassion God?
-3 am thoughts, what if all life were connected beyond time and that life is more than god and nothing like a devil, it is just the feeling of oneness when you hold a flower in your hand and the wind binds you your fingers to the flower in that caress is so much fire, this morning I can't sleep but I remember holding you your petals were yellow and you touched my hand, little daisy you are the God I'm looking for”.
and think about the day and all it's happenings
and the time slides by and the night goes on
right past me.
In those nights, I wonder about the state of the world,
of myself the Earth and all it's inhabitants.
It seems to me that we are not doomed.
But there is so much that is frightening in every day life
the dark of night seems to press in on me as I contemplate
oil spills and death and economic downturns, the consistent
trashing of the earth in the name of mindless profit to feed the
egos of the pointlessly greedy.
I wonder if the demons in my head will let me sleep, or if they will
taunt me all night. Sometimes even a cup of mint tea and 3 aspirin
will do no good.
On nights like this, I wonder who to turn to?
I am skeptical of Jesus, Buddha, Allah, all the saints and all the Hindu gods and goddesses...
somehow they seem to either be dead icons of madness cults
or they are all the same being reaching out to us from a great beyond that is so far past human comprehension it would take every bible in the world and every other book too, to equal a minuscule moment of it's tiny-ist thought.
Either way, I gave prayer a try.
Sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't.
I have had some luck. But not with oil spills off gulf coasts, or stopping the AIDS virus or ending starvation. God is peculiar or non-existent.
More aspirin...?
no... writing instead.
Is love God? Then why does love often lead us to misery? Is money God? only if the root of all evil is God...is compassion God?
-3 am thoughts, what if all life were connected beyond time and that life is more than god and nothing like a devil, it is just the feeling of oneness when you hold a flower in your hand and the wind binds you your fingers to the flower in that caress is so much fire, this morning I can't sleep but I remember holding you your petals were yellow and you touched my hand, little daisy you are the God I'm looking for”.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)