Love Is …

What Is Love?

All anyone wants is to feel loved … positive beautiful affirming of self/each other.  It doesn’t have to be anything.  It just is.  It’s a place that ‘rises above.’ 

Love touches in different ways than everyday “socialisms” between people.

You read love on paper sometimes on the screen words that kiss and caress they sooth and like and liken and hark and bring light and memory and shine with crashing wave on paper that tell stories of laugh and joy and lots of sensual pleasure.

Love remembers love hears love listens love takes fear away.  Love eats distress, chews it with gusto like swallowing cum to please even though it tastes like bleach.

Love releases dreams love creates a reality of its own shared delightful giggling it can’t contain itself sometimes it’s overwhelming in its magnetism

There are no choice words to describe it at times.  It’s not concerned with self it gives in for pleasure it shares pain gratefully it suspends time it creates visions it draws a body to a body in unique ways (for each person is unique in their own way) it matches up it magnetizes it finds and realizes it sleeps well with itself it looks beyond itself it seeks to know it revels in what it sees and hears it wraps warmth around the other it looks beyond reality it sees, it wonders, it mesmerizes at times lost in vision and fascination finding humor not because it’s funny but because it’s indescribably beautiful to see a personal representation of all you’ve ever wanted to love.

Love sees danger and looks ahead.  Loving is caring; it’s more than caring.  Love is loss of self for other self judged more important.  Love wants to give another life more life.  Love splendors itself when it sees sparkles and sunlight streaming from eyes; it reflects the same light. 

Love will do whatever it takes to make another happy.  Love wants to give and give .. Love looks for ways to give searching searching always looking for another way another reason.  Love wants love love wants to be loved love looks for other love, love loves love.

Love  strikes when you least expect it if you are lucky and it pulls you and it suspends you in time.

Love sees colors and shapes that exist for a moment and held forever.  Love wants to please.  Love wants warmth for another.  Love can touch and touch and touch and never grow tired  touch and touching.  Love gives pleasure vast amounts if possible.  Love seek beauty to see in another.

Love knows that if it knows it’s there it will find it and bring it to another embracing with eyes seeing the other, the world falls away.

Love hears and listens it celebrates the unique world that lies hidden but that it can see and only it sees

the uniqueness of the other.

Love celebrates another with its whole self it feels love gladly it wants to touch it wants to give.  Love is carried everywhere, it’s another presence in the world that’s always there even though a thousand miles away.

Love has hope galore:  hope for wellness, hope that it can heal just by thinking.  Love wants to celebrate the joy of living with another, magnificent as two can be.

Love yearns for another because it knows the secret that each one is only half so love makes people whole.  Love makes people whole with themselves.  Love feeds on the pain of another.  Love wants another’s pain .. Love thinks only of the other.  Love loves .. love loves loving .

It’s easy for love to be spellbound .. When spellbound it spellbinds with another: love binds without thinking.  This is when love just ‘’is” when it’s mutually spellbinding.  Love celebrates another life.  Love cries when its sad but it doesn’t matter, it knows another lover feels the pain ..

Love can be so surprising! It springs from unknown places for no reason.  Surprising with delight like magic from unknown places sudden treasures seen or brought to bear ..

Love loves surprises: sudden appearance face to face when least expected creating delight, that sudden intake of breath, the extra measure of others air received, a drop of unseen honey in the air that makes things funny without words or words without knowing where they spring from unknown delightfull and confounding.

Love has no beginning.  When you find it it was always there but unaware you waited unaware and when you find it glows with color.  Mine was the color blue ..

Yes, love glows with colors eyes and clothes and skin and toes and veins and birth marks in secret places no one else knows.

Love can draw a person inside another or make two people want to be another.  Love grows with time.  How could it not .. It induces knowing so the mind keeps growing and growing, you give me your light i’ll give you mine.

Love wants to give it’s light so the other shines.  Love loves to bask in loving shine.  Love is a jewell and it’s a treasure.  Love is freely given.  Love is all there is and all there is is, love that’s given.  

cd

The Web of Time

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We are a travelers moving along

a web of time within a mist we call

life.

We see with light given from somewhere,

outside, within, in-between, seldom seen

at best,

reflected.

We make decisions;

where to go, how to get there,

what to think and feel;

assuming truths, affirming movement

we’re not sure of, through space most often

blindly.

Life is like that;

crossroads, turnings here or there,

seconds late determines fate,

returns returned again and once again

returning

to differing paths we navigate through

endless toil, obliteration, sensory pleasures,

death, fulfillment or broken hearts

(to learn or not to learn (that is the question … !?)),

wandering paths we roam through space

unknown, face to face with

those we think we

love?

We want to love but, is it love we crave more than the ones we may or may not love?  For, don’t we give love to those we may not love at all?

We drag through murky spaces,                                                                     love’s truths obscured, half known half

not knowing, unknowable, self importance, interfering combat, crackling static,  white noise, huge space separating single spaces, seldom crystal

clear.

We take our chances.

We make our choices.

We fill our lives with dreams? Or are they fantasies?

 We self induce our misery.

We thrive on living pain.

And who’s to blame?

Endless Possibilities

 

Driving out endless possibilities/pictures skating over thin ice/holes chopped through frozen reality/broken dreams in hospital/waiting for repair.

Unknown encounters passing by/sparks of visions wondering why/lives joined in sequence/the river meandering by/sweet and terrible waters.

Birth spring summer fall reliving/gifts supreme/singularly seen with double meaning/sun’s heavenly face moving/fresh air beyond belief/old worlds torn asunder.

Rising swells /moving sands/deadheads floating by/imagination captured by wandering seas/renewing themselves …

endlessly  … 

When Night Birds Take Morning Flight

When Night Birds Take Morning Flight

I watched night birds take night time flight.

While breezes washed ashore

I walked the line where all three meet.

Sky within dark water,

waves of moonlight,

sparkling grains of sand

reflecting light

below/above …

between each other’s sight

within their kisses

of the night …

I looked into the grounds of sweet good byes,

the thought of daylight in disguise,

my thoughts on morning’s rise,  with

each new morning’s light;

the sky that touches deep within

the sound of inland seas.

I climbed back into bed and slept again.

With speckled stars above the nighttime breeze

with moonlight showing through the leaves

I’ll sleep ‘till morning light

when

daylight birds

take morning

flight …

 

Reflection: The Web of Time

We are a travelers moving along

a web of time within the mist we call

life.

We see with light given from somewhere,

outside, within, in-between, seldom seen

at best,

reflected.

We make decisions;

where to go, how to get there,

what to think and feel;

assuming truths, affirming movement

we’re not sure of, through space most often

blindly.

Life is like that; crossroads, turnings here or there,

seconds late determining fate,

returns returned again and once again

returning, to differing paths we navigate,

endless toil, obliteration, sensory pleasures,

death, fulfillment or broken hearts,

(to learn or not to learn (that is the question … !?)),

wandering paths through space

unknown, face to face with

those we think we love?

We want to love but,

is it love we crave more than

the ones we may or may not love?  For, don’t we give love to those we may not love at all?

We drag through murky spaces, love’s truths obscured, half known half not knowing, unknowable, self importance, interfering combat, crackling static,  white noise, huge space separating single spaces, seldom crystal clear.

We take our chances.  We make our choices.

We fill our lives with dreams? Or are they fantasies?

 We self induce our misery.  We thrive on living pain.

And who’s to blame?

Run Silent Run Deep

Run Silent Run Deep

On waves of hope riding,
rising most often
crashing
smartly smashing wedded myths
exploding stars
somber chords playing rifts;
driving cool rhythms,
run silent …

run deep …

Fractured contagion relegated
songs of incantation learning
deeds and conflagrations
emerging, reaching
calmly waiting … total seclusion

Other modes of teaching:
suffocating group aspirations,
escalating abdicated pain, afflictions by
lack of reasoning
mythical separations,
reaching two toned sights unseen,                                   sliding, blending, polarizing opposites                     connecting guided opposition,
subtle compromise comprising
dull with shifting lenses
flashing brilliant meaning
giving nightly dreaming hope
opposing despair
triumphal patterns causing
change through darkest hallways                                 leading nowhere                                                                            the stars through navigation brightly
signing sighing slicing
the knowledge of repair
from shattered crystal fittings with                            crosshairs crossing
night time rays of wrath                                                           and fear to lasting words that foster
coming thoughts of dark desire
the mind could never fathom                                                    the lasting triumph needed having come?

With stars of night bright leading                                 avoiding dark holes unseeing
minor slips along the way,
comprising major slips comprised of,
never making matters right                                                     we make our way on waves of hope riding,
often crashing but finding!

The dream of life’s
full meaning
outside of pain and suffering                                              finally seen!!

the dreams of darkest night                                                within                                                                                                the light of brightest day                                                       giving life full meaning

after all …

Miriam

Miriam

He told me about the time he was at the hospital a year ago at the same time he would be at the same hospital this year, in the same room where last year he suffered the same procedure as he would be suffering this year .. exactly a year later.

He told me about the great nurses and others who cared for him then, he told me a tale about some crazy stuff that happened one night that no one would have ever dreamed could happen.

He laughed that Sinead O’Connor laugh while shaking his head from side to side, “Not I,” he said. “Or, the hospital staff, the bouncer who looked like he wanted to kick my ass, or that Air Force Academy guy who was the charge nurse downstairs.”

Laughing he said, “But, then how can anyone anticipate the world suddenly collapsing around you after you’ve had some crazy idea? Life has its ups and downs but the sloppy fit between a crazy thought becoming a crazy idea leading to some crazy behavior tightens like welded steel since you NEVER know when some crazy IDEA is gonna pop into your brain!”

I didn’t understand a word he said but, he ket  piquing my interest as the night wore on.

The world seen through the eyes of my grandfather Gile Steel would be an interesting one, indeed.

 

More Miriam ……

 

 

 

When Daylight Birds Take Morning Flight

When Daylight Birds Take Morning Flight

I was up before seven
I made a pot of coffee

I swept the floor
I listened to the radio

I poured the coffee
I put sugar and cream in

I climbed back into bed and slept
until the dawn of night.

I watched the moon arch overhead
from orange to milky white;

silver dollar sized
with full moon’s

full moon
light.

I watched night birds take night time flight.

While breezes washed ashore
I walked the line where all three meet;

sky within dark water,
waves of moonlight,

sparkling grains of sand
reflecting light below/above …

between each other’s sight

within their night time

kisses ..

I looked into the grounds of sweet good byes
the thought of daylight in disguise;

my thoughts on morning rising with
each new morning’s light,

the sky that touches deep within,
the sound of inland seas.

With speckled stars above the nighttime breeze

with moonlight showing through the leaves

I’ll sleep ‘till morning light …

when day begins

and daylight birds
take morning

flight …

 

A Single Soul With Many Beating Hearts

… we shared our lungs and
the soot upon our fingers …

the sounds of crashing cars at night …
their steel wheels spinning  …
the sound of dynamos coupling …
the lonely whistle’s departure
the sound of blowing steam …

(singing lonely notes to us
in our dreams)
or
songs of departure
for those of us with
longing hearts
who sailed the rails
for hidden treasure
to feed their hungry hearts

never to be seen again …

Those of us who stayed endured
the soot that lived within our
lungs
we slept on grey sheets
we hung
to dry in
the sun of
yesterday’s
light …

How could we not share
our commonalities in
the sooty air of that
little town?!

We were carbon copies
who saw each other
everywhere …

How could we NOT share
in large part the sums of
our greater whole?

With every single entity
an overlapping part
of every single mind

we shared a single soul
with many beating

hearts .,..

Two ‘Fer

  • – Two –

I was flying sideways in my car

along streets full of passers by

looking for tomorrow

and a day that will never come.

Past fields of wheat and flax I drove

past lines and furrows

along roads well traveled where

spiral masses lay in wait

for early spring

past the mystery of silence

so near, but yet

so far …

– F’er –

Within the rural sun

mornings arrive

and day is nearly done.

Sun and moon and in between

miles along the roads of time.

Too much distance

too little time to make

the world my own.

Too much time to never see

everything in between

growing in the sun of

tomorrow’s

destiny.

More Lake Magic: Morphing Sparrows

I sat and watched in peaceful trance
water cascade toward me,
it’s white caps reaching for the shore
where purest water and land meet
in perfect balance.

A half mile off shore men fished in the trough between shallow water colored tan and
deep water blue that extended to the horizon
then further where deepest knowledge lies hidden beyond the
fog that blurs the boundary line
of the event horizon  …

… when the world and everything in it
came alive!

an immense delta shaped cloud miles across
morphed into a giant sparrow
its tail feathers tendril-like
emerging from a roiling line of black
trailing far behind
each twisting through air
in its own unique way …
parts of the whole drifting away,
thin strands of cloud DNA
seeking like minded life forms
reforming into new more powerful forces or
receding into the mist

i listened for words grown silent;  empty space greater than
the sound of crashing waves,
or the passing wind that filled my ears … when shades of gray

surrounded me;

the sandy bottom of the great lake became a subtle shade of gray;
the white caps a more subtle shade … with motion …
the shoreline grass multi faceted shades,
the sky in slow diminishing muted shades of gray
slowly turning toward
the blue black of night

I was living in the gray zone before nighttime on the
boundary line between time when
dreams from beyond the horizon are born
within the light of darkest night

The Case of the Missing Furniture

The Case of the Missing Furniture

Chapter I

Thursday morning I think I awoke from what I thought was a dream; doors banging open and shut echoed throughout the house/the four walls devoid of shadows looked strange and naked.  The outlets seemed bored without their plugs.

I knocked on every door and looked inside. Nothing!

Was it a dream?

Chapter 2

That morning I drank my coffee on the porch the yellow sun on my feet my face in shadow, before realizing every stick of furniture had disappeared!

I called the police!

Chapter 3

Two cops told me, “Something has to be missing for two days before it’s missing.”

“But what if its all on a big semi headed for North Carolina or down by the Swale River holding the asses of some homeless people drinking their muscatel, red stains all over on the arms?’’ I replied.

They left in a huff shouting,  “Homeless people are out of our jurisdiction!”

Chapter 4

Hmmm … I remembered seeing the E.M.T. people around.  Maybe they were in disguise that day?

Shit!  Then I remembered!  The E.M.T.’s had visited my house at least ten days prior.

(They told me I was having an anxiety attack.  I wouldn’t tell them my chair was a giant hand threatening to pull me into some abscess below the foundation of the house.  I hid my feelings but, what a ridiculous thought!  I live on a cement slab!!)

“But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Chapter 5

A while later I said good bye despite her offer to tell me everything she knew.

“I’m perfectly happy,” I said, “wondering what happened. I don’t need to know any answers.”

I left.

Chapter 6

I stuck out my thumb.  Houses and bison sped by for quite some time.

Chapter 7

Whew!  Finally,  it seemed I had arrived. 

The driver .. an attractive 30’s something police officer her auburn colored hair pulled back so tightly it seemed her eyebrows were in suspended animation (giving her a look of constant wide eyed wonder), wearing a green uniform, a gold badge attached to her breast pocket .. told me her name was Devereaux. 

She opened the door.  I stepped inside.

“So, where are you taking me?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said turning her head back toward where I sat, a smile of wide eyed wonder on at least half of her face.

“Well yes,” I said indignantly.  Then, “Does this have anything to do with my missing furniture?”

Hideous

 

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Hideous nature, life …

Ghastly in its death bed/its beseiging compass run/bewildering with its struggles/writhing in its pain/desire seeking fire/rifting terror’s delight/severed thinking/thoughts of creepy crawlies/struggling to survive/against the masses …

There’ll be no full moon tonight to guide
the single masted ship that’s sailing/saw tooth tigers biting wind/
forcers bringing winds prevailing
tossed about by slightest night time breezes blowing/
dreamer’s hearts
with sad

delight;

Dark clouds racing/every shade of gray/
buffetted inside by deepest

freeze …

Fragments of a Dream Reassembled

 

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An old man remembers a dream he had as a boy.

One day he thought back through time and

A dream about a fine and beautiful place.

fragments of a beautiful stained glass

upon contemplating the memory, the man realizes,

window of untold beauty began to

that for fifty years he has

slowly reassemble itself

searched for the place of his dream.

piece by piece until the

he was never sure the place existed.

window became

Now he sees its golden glow on the

whole once again

near horizon and he is

and the structure and the

walking toward the glow and he

meaning captured within the

yearns to be there/But a forest with a beast/lies between the man

reassembled window became

and the golden place. He wonders if he should

clear and its meaning formed a

go through the forest

magnificent and

or postpone finding the place he has dreamed of

great, intricate, light filled

all his life.

complex thought.

Spectral

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Two nights ago I woke suddenly from sleep and caught a glimpse of someone in a black and yellow flannel shirt running down the hallway outside the bedroom.

I was so startled that I woke Jodi telling her excitedly, what I saw.

She naturally told me I was dreaming but I was convinced someone was out there.  I thought maybe it could be Matt or even Jordan since Jordan was spending the night.

I got out of bed to make further inspection.

I turned on a living room light.

I heard Jodi telling me from the bedroom, that I was dreaming.

I looked around and having seen no one felt slightly foolish. I returned to bed telling Jodi how perplexed I was; how sure I was that I had seen someone.

Within minutes I fell back asleep.

The next evening we watched the Stephen King movie, “The Stand” until past 11:00 p.m. Then we read until past eleven thirty. When we finally turned the lights off, I lay on my right side with my eyes open looking out the bedroom door into the hallway.

The door was open exactly the way it had been the night before.

The dream I thought I had suddenly appeared within my mind and I recalled the whole sequence of events most realistically.

I replayed the dream several times in my mind each time looking at it critically.  Was it real?  Or, my imagination?

Suddenly I concluded that the figure running down the hall WAS real!

I realized this because upon inspection last night I had only looked in the living room from the limited perspective at the end of the hallway where I had turned on a living room light.

I reasoned that the evidence to support a phantom dream intruder was not strong enough.

Had I ventured into the dining room then inspected the kitchen and the laundry room and found nothing, I would have had every reason to conclude a non-existent intruder.

But I had done none of those things.

My further conclusion was that my body had perceived danger and had reasoned it best to leave further exploration alone.

Fear washed over me as this sequence of thoughts ticked off.  I became very agitated. My heart was beating and my head throbbed.  I continued to feel in imminent danger.

I got out of bed and crept into the living room. By now it was after midnight. I was wide awake.

I stood in the living room with the lights off trying to make myself invisible looking for movement outdoors. I moved to the sliding glass doors on the north end of the living room peering through the slats for perhaps ten minutes, waiting to see some spectral figure creep across the back yard.

Then I checked all the doors and windows and discovered that the latch on one of the sliding glass doors was faulty.

I went into Matt’s room and fetched a golf club which I laid in the aluminum track hoping this would keep the door from opening.

I was scared and I felt foolish for surely if there was an intruder he was by now perfectly aware of my clumsy attempts to secure my house. He was probably back in the weeds laughing at me.

After securing the door I retired to the couch where in an attempt to find some comfort I grabbed the first book I laid eyes on. I ended up reading several stories from the Apocrapha.

I finally drifted into sleep around 4:30 a.m.

My sleep was characterized by sharp, vivid dreams.

I was on some quest and was being faced with multitudes of challenges. The family was there for part of it.

At one point I had to go into a cave to fetch some round stone like object that was suspended inside of an indentation in the ceiling of the cave.

John was eager to help as he always is but I barked a command at him to stay away from the danger. There were holes inside the cave that he could have slipped into.

The round object was heavy but I prevailed.  Once the round object was retrieved we were able to pass over a small creek that earlier we could not cross.

We succeeded in meeting that challenge.

Continuing along I discovered I had a partner. There was just the two of us. A lithsome girl like figure with great energy and courage. There was a strong bond between us. She needed me and I felt a deep strong need and trust for “her” with a great deal of sexual attraction.

She was undressing and was turned sideways to me. I was transfixed by her girlish breasts as her arms were raised above her head in the most appealing way.

I awoke from sleep the next morning seeing a dark gray sky.

But I didn’t feel confused and muddled as I often do when sleep aludes me. I knew it was because I had ventured deep into my subconscious mind close to a place where energy and awarness emanate.  When this happens a very special clarity of thought results.  This doesn’t happen often.  I never know when it will occur.

I had great clarity of thought that day seeing things ‘below the surface’ with a sense of heightened awareness; brighter colors, making interesting connections.

While waiting to cross Gibralter Street two blocks from where I live a car unexpectedly swerved toward me, then passed directly in front of me coming quite close, as it turned onto Birchcrest Street and continued along, away from where I stood.

I was taken aback by the car’s sudden movement and close proximity.  I wondered if the driver was aware I was standing at the corner waiting to cross.

As the car curved across my field of vision I looked into the pale blue eyes of the driver; a blond haired man of perhaps 27 years.  His chin resting on the window slot gave the impression that his head did not have a body attached to it; a severed head floating inside the car!

It peered at me through the top of its pale gray eyes predatory like.  I felt threatened but refused to look away.

The pale blue eyes had the same pained, scared, guilty look of a criminal on the verge of getting caught. The eyes were frighteningly cold, and expressionless but for the slightest smirk; a look that filled me with a kind of dread I can only describe as sub human rage.

I made a mental note of the license plate; E77-1849 South Carolina and continued watching as the car drove away.

At the end of the first block the car slowed. I took notice and began walking toward the car.

I continued walking toward the car as it slowly drove along the second block.

Toward the end of the second block the left turn blinker began to flash.

“I knew it!” I exclaimed!

I began sprinting across the empty lot toward the street that separated me from the second empty lot that separated me from my house at the middle of the block completely focused on the car with the floating head as it slowly moved toward my house coming  to rest  at the end of the driveway.

Halfway across the second empty lot my heightened sense of awareness told me that … the car was empty.

Light Stained Against A Sea of Thought

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From a place where time was small with brightest light

came purest boyhood dreams

within my mind that night

 where 

with sun and single pleasure sought …

I moved from place to place …

seeking other orbits … better places to see

to

move and turn about

and look upon her face with

wonder …

…..

Where

Light stained against the sky of thought

suspended in time …

hovered over each place …

waiting to be seen.

Perfect prizes captured to be lived in

momentarily.

Where

rain returning to the sky

waits

for future retrieval.

Where

 never ending cycles return,

the light of time

re-mingled;

the light of days remembered and forgotten

taken in like

air

to a newborn child.

Thoughts that flicker in and out

like waves along the

shoreline:

where

purest water replacing every

grain of sand

forever …

takes me back

to

where it all

began

Sweet Melancholy

 

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Emotions ebb and flow
from time’s reflected light/the dreams of life we share;

The stories that we tell ourselves
of summer light collected;

the joy of love’s discovery (bright days of future past … )

or melancholy thoughts we sing (through dark storms affected … )

From darkest storms of Life gone by
From dreams of summer light we’ve shared

The seeds we sow along the way
the fruits of our

perception and despair …

Fall: Trees of Life Remembered: AND Don’t Fix It If It Ain’t Broke! A Lesson From A Know It All …

Hello every body; Friends. Likers.  (OK, bikers too) First and Last time readers and all good people who read my poems and stories especially the people I see all the time who I feel I have a unique kinship with.  It seems that they like my work almost as much as I do and I love my work.  It’s nice to get the reassurance I get from you and I sincerely appreciate you.

When I read my stories and poems I’m almost always amazed that these words and these thoughts came out of me!  WHERE DO THEY COME FROM, I constantly ask myself.

Enough!  What I want to tell you all and everybody about is a rule I learned that served me well.  A voice that tells me …….. “Leave it alone! Don’t fix it if it’s NOT BROKEN”

Wull, I just learned it again today but because I remembered too late I’ve reduced what I wrote to a shitty ‘over tweaked’ poem.  Now I’m stuck.  Embarrassed, fer crying out loud! … Jeeeze … I told Jodi it was like walking around with my fly open and part of a white shirt sticking out .  Just enough to make it stupidly embarrassing, which iI feel.

So, here’s how it happened.

I was dozing, I had just started seeing the dark that comes before …. going under  … not ‘sleep’ rather ‘going under’.

Ok so, I had just started to go under … to see the darkness encroach, when my phone whistles at me.  Do you have a phone that whistles? Sounds like a bird? I don’t mind the sound but sometimes it’s pretty annoying.

My eyes flew open like somebody had just shot me between the eyes with a 22 calibre pistol.

Since I was lying on the couch by the sliding glass door, I turned my head and looked up at the trees.

They were swaying in the breeze, side to side, mostly green (but, turning color quickly), a gentle hiss, their hands  moving to and fro touching as they passed by.  The sky pale blue.

The reds and yellows were already being nudged off by the daily winds.  Mostly reds and oranges.  Leaves were falling through the air like giant colorful flakes of snow different colors mixing.  Absolutely beautiful, of course.

Quick as a …. I can’t think of a metaphor or … are those things analogies??  “Quick as a … ,” So I guess I’ll say, “Quick as a motherfucker,” I grabbed my phone and wrote the poem below and it was beautiful … I really liked it.  It’s not EXACTY the poem below. You’ll see.

The words flowed out of me.  It was interesting to watch my finger tick on letters of words that I was thinking as the thoughts assembled themselves.  I was outside of myself watching myself ‘hunt and peck’.

I liked the piece so, I transcribed it into the computer and posted it.

Within a short time I had 6 or 7 ‘Likes’ and that was cool.  A couple of new people that I doubt will come back but so what?  It’s still nice to see someone stop by, like what you’ve written, tell you they liked it then move on. It’s wonderful, in fact …

So since it was pretty good I thought I’d make it better so, I started tweaking it, making it more ‘logical’ … action proceeding in a straight line;  idea, reason or reason idea blah blah … I began trying to fucking explain everything.  Fuck that!

Pretty soon I had the damn thing so “F worded” up I almost cried and since I didn’t want to touch it because I kind of hated it, I left it here but …   it’s SO EMBARRASSING that this innocent, beautiful poem became twisted, stupid and  embarrassing.

So … apologize to those who read it, thought ‘Ewwww … ‘ and left never to be seen again.

So, the reason for all this bullshit is,  I wanted to give you the rule for writing poetry I use all the time  …. sometimes!!! … not always … this rule doesn’t work always  …  Nothing is right 100% of the time, right?

So as I mentioned already, here’s the rule again … listen the little voice that says, “Leave it alone, stupid.  Don’t fix it if it isn’t broke!”(Not always!  But, often enough).

The proof of the pudding is the following poem.  God knows, you might like it but, originally I think it had an innocence and sense of power.  Now all it is is some pretty words.   Awwwww ….. Awwwww …

“Bullshit

So, I hope you get some use out of my “know it all” advice.

For those who think I’m REALLY being stupid instead of just acting stupid, all I can say is ”Why don’t you go masturbate yourself!!?”  Oops! … oh! jeeze! I’m sorry … !!! I’m really sorry!  That happens all the time!  I get so enthused.  I can’t help it!

So, anyway, read on if you want to.  ks … Ewwww ….

Thank you for your time and … I sell on ebay also so …. whoops!  Did it again.  Take care good people.  With sweet love for you who I see often, you make my heart feel warm.  Kurt

 

0311161850b-2

Wind’s a blowin’
leaves a fallin’
Fall’s a gettin’ ready
to rest its trees
underground to dream
vast earth dreams.

Our trees returning to

forever.

Leaves, their days in the sun
near done
celebrate with
prisms of color
once absorbed during the days of
earthly delight
the time of sun’s brief flight.

First red then orange
the first and second prismatic light
we see … the attraction of
majesty only partly seen
like the tail end of
a lovely sunset.

Comes next
yellow … of all the places on
the wheel of light’s fractal colors

the one that glows mid way
between lines with  definition;

Yellow glows as the refection of sun’s whole light
it sought from above.

They are the lucky ones who get to walk in
Sol’s great footsteps.

Green?

You’re familiar with, of course after
five months with limbs
the greatest parts/reaching out through

space and time with
loving fingers
running through existence
one last burst of color.

the gatherers of sunlight/their colors seen separately through life’s  spectrum  contained within.

Their colors seen separately/they are

the gatherers of sunlight

Green leaf gathering life so beautifully with sound that hushes and whistles low;
makes sweet sap from sun’s light

with great  great mystery.

Their work of summer’s past given
with delight to brew and wait ‘till
the nap of time

is over.

Their’s is the
nourishment taken from above
stored below then given back
to prove we’re all a part of cycles.

ALL of life within the bounds of living
the draught of sweet delivery
sustenance for next years progeny
next year’s offspring, given.

The sweet flood of
innocence and caring
passing on sweet memories of
summers past.

The blood of renewal
a welcome mat rolled out, the
pablum of hope, the splendor of
new growth!

Comes blue and violet that
unseen world of light remaining  hidden
except for maples and a few others
both ends of the world from
beginning to end; red and purple
emerging one from the other
home at last to rest,
to feel earth dreams before
rebirth again and again and again the
lessons of ‘being’ if only seen and

Remembered.

The majesty of trees!

The
spectacle, the
cycle born anew,  the same
lessons taught with each
November, the movement of
all that matters

they carry us through
time ..

Now?

Comes a time to rest the ‘eyes’ of their
community one great world of their
awareness connected

soon to go below to see
and HEAR and to remember
Mother’s most precious gift:

Life’s splendor ..

Wind and leaves the breath of our well being

within the bounds of
what they are we lie captured in between

Wind and leaves and trees the
great Mother who gives us
what we need, the
breath of

forever …

Birds of Nightime Flight

I was up before seven/I made a pot of coffee/I swept the floor/I listened to the radio/I poured the coffee/I put sugar and cream in/I climbed back into bed and slept/until the dawn of night.

I watched the moon arch overhead/from orange to milky white/silver dollar sized/with full moon’s/full moon light/I watched night birds/take night time flight.

*****

While breezes washed ashore/I walked the line where all three meet/sky within dark water/waves of moonlight/speckled starlight/below and above/within each other.

Within each kiss/between.

*****

I looked into the grounds of sweet good byes/the thought of daylight in disguise/ my thoughts on morning light/the sky that touches deep within the sound/of inland seas.

I climbed back into my bed and slept again.

*****

With speckled stars/above the nightime breeze/moonlight showing through the leaves/I sleep until morning light/when day begins

and daylight birds

take morning

flight …

Fragmented Moon

It’s hard to look at the moon these days.

On darkest nights it appears as a haze.

I turn away when it’s over my shoulder/first quarter full/afraid to look back/fearful of what I’ll see.

I missed the half moon completely this month.

No reason to celebrate atomic moon either!/I think it was shrouded.

The last new moon/I saw saw it briefly/but only at a glance.

This time I’m under its pale yellow sliver of light/seeing it fragmented/through a canopy of leaves/hard to define/the distance between pieces/too great to know what it is: or isn’t supposed to be.

Unlike when it was beautiful and whole/running on the clock of the universe/night sky above plunged into the game of endless

splendor.

Crossroad: The Goddess Olympia

Mount Olympus

images-3

The Goddess Olympia

Among the gods was the goddess Olympia.  

A mountain of a woman,  soft hearted yet steadfast.  Determined to feed and nurture all who entered her domain.   

She gave all she had to others until one day in the white heat of summer her heart burst and she died after losing her brother to his sad life un-lived.  

Her brother? He rode the waters day after day reaching for a dream that was only a fantasy. 

He lived life without the flame of a dream.  His fanciful aspirations the result of his infatuation with the false god of fantasy who each day sucked dry larger and larger portions of his life until tinder dry, flames consumed him and took Mount Olympia too. 

 It’s a beautiful but sad story as life can be (or maybe is ) about some extraordinary people I had the privilege to know … truly Gods and Goddesses in their own way … beautiful people I’ve introduced you to who I cannot think, or write or read out loud about to the ones I love without crying … as I am doing this moment. ks

End 

 

The Day the Year the Month the Hour the Minute the Second: The Time That I Was Born

Unknown

That summer hot and sultry mid month mid year mid way past midnight bright lights shining blinding hands grasping fingers smashing through the air i didn’t really care it was not my problem i was their’s for the taking …

i heard the pain that wasn’t mine explode into my space, the air, the rush of light that came before the crack of dawn exposed the ship that i’d been riding on between the worlds where i once lived when i was born.

with great surprise i threw away my aqua lungs, I sucked in air while water flooded, breathing synapses firing new born pistons, 283 horses blowing streams of light in all directions!!

so this is what it’s like to live in  the land of milk and honey … !!!

Came time to leave for home i looked into the sky i’d never seen,  acorns falling through the air,  cool harmonies on the breeze singing memories from where it all began wrapped around light that fueled the seeds of future’s flight;  tightly woven earthly patterns leading everywhere in sight that gave great brilliance and such delight!!

Each night i see the world inside my dreams wrapped inside the morning dew; each morning my life begins anew, never sure of all that i have seen until i return  and do it all again and again and again and again and again and again … until i think … therefore i am …..

images

Renewal

Driving out endless possibilities/

pictures skating over thin ice/

holes chopped through frozen reality/

broken dreams .. in the hospital/

waiting for repair

…..

Unknown encounters passing by/

sparks of visions wondering why/

lives joined in sequence/

the river meandering by/

sweet and terrible waters …

.,…. 

Birth spring summer fall reliving/

gifts supreme/

singularly seen in double meaning/

sun’s heavenly face moving/

fresh air beyond belief/

worlds asunder/

rising swells /moving sands/deadheads floating by/

imagination captured by wandering sea/

renewing itself  

endlessly … 

Alabaster Dreams

Alabaster Dreams

The moon appeared, round and yellow

bright then dimly lit

behind cloud formations,

drifting slowly north

along the shoreline

with Great Lake’s whisper.

…..

When lights strung high

behind the trees across the road moved

I realized a ship was docked and waiting

for another load of alabaster

taken from the ground up here

somewhere beyond the

northern pinewood forests.

…..

And that ship made bell sounds

and a passing train blew its horn

while cool night air touched the skin

below the cuffs of my t-shirt,

before I walked back into my tree where

I wrote these words upon waking,

drawn from sleep by

alabaster moon’s bright light seen

through ancient pines

standing tall in the northern woods

Great Lake’s whispered songs soft and gentle

within the light of  reflected dreams

once again drawing near.

…..

When sleep crept back upon me

the moon appeared, round and yellow,

bright then dimly lit behind cloud formations,

drifting north along Great Lake’s shoreline

her music wrapped within the sight of moonlight dreams,

sleep already drawing upon me

as I rolled over

and fell

back into

the other

world.

Traveling the Web of Time the Mysteries of Life Unknown

We are a travelers moving along a web of time within the mist of life, the light from somewhere given; outside, within and in-between seldom seen …  at best, reflected.

We make decisions, where to go, how to get there, what to think and feel, assuming truths affirming movement we’re not sure of, through space most often blindly.

Life is like that; crossroads, turnings here or there, seconds late determining fate, returns returned again and once again returning, differing paths we navigate, endless toil, obliteration, sensory pleasures, death, fulfillment, broken hearts;

to learn or not to learn (that is the question … !),

wandering paths through space unknown, face to face with those we think we love?

We want to love but, is it love we crave more than the ones we may or may not love?  For, don’t we give love to those we may not love at all?

We drag through murky spaces, love’s truths obscured, half known half not knowing … self importance, interfering combat, crackling static,  white noise, huge space separating single spaces, seldom crystal clear.

We take our chances.  We make our choices.

We fill our lives with dreams? Or are they fantasies?

 We self induce our misery.  We thrive on living pain.

And who’s to blame?

A

SOLSTICE DAYS
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I THINK SOLSTICE DAYS SUCH AS OURS … RELATE TO YOUNGER MINDS IN GENERAL,  THEIR MOVEMENTS SO FREE … UNANNOUNCED THEY’RE THE PERFECT HOUSE GUESTS IN OUR WORLD … AN END RESULT  ..

*******

LET’S FACE IT … THE WORLD’S A BETTER PLACE FOR THEM TO CO-MINGLE ESPECIALLY FOR THOSE SOULS WHO MOVE THEIR SADNESS IN SEARCH FOR HAPPY LOVE … THE SEARCH FOR SHOES WITH A BETTER FIT … THE OTHER FOOT IN UNION WITH THEIR OWN .. TAKING THEM EVERYWHERE THROUGH MINDS DELVED INTO …THE SELFLESS WORLD OF LOVE AND affirmation ..

*******

OF COURSE THE OPPOSITE CAN BE TRUE … BASKETBALLS THROWN FROM NOWHERE TO PLACES NEVER SEEN, DOES ANYONE REALLY KNOW where they’re going or what their purpose is … ?  IT’S USELESS to search for a REASON SINCE … YOU’LL NEVER REALLY KNOW …

*******

IT’S ABOUT PEOPLE IN SLEEPING COMAS … ! YOU CAN SEE THEIR STASIS  … NEVER ENDING; THE CONVERSION OF THAT ONE INSENCSENT FACT OF LIFE … !

IT’S OBLIVION THAT SETS US FREE … !

*******

IT’S PART OF OUR SOCIETY NOW IN EVERY DETAIL … IN EVERY GENERAL WAY !  WE MIGHT AS WELL FACE THE FACT … IT’S ABUNDANTLY CLEAR …!

*****

WHEN THINKING THROUGH CLEAR VISTAS  … WE THINK THOUGHTS THAT THINK BETTER THOUGHTS THAN THOUGHTS NOT  THROUGH CLEAR VISTAS  IT’S PRETTY OBVIOUS ISN’T IT  … ?

*******

BUT WAIT … ! THERE’S MORE !!
BETTER  AND BETTER, MORE CLEAR VISTAS … THEY’RE  ON THE WAY …!

*******

WHAT COULD BE MORE OMINOUS ..?  SIGNS AND THERAPIES … THE WORDS OF MONKS … PRIESTS AND HARPIES … THEIR CURLING BEARDS AND SHAVEN HEADS OF FEAR … THE BREAD WORTH TASTING … ?  IF THEY ONLY KNEW THE HANDLE,  THEY’D KNOW THE OPEN FRAME ..  IF THEY ONLY KNEW THEY HAD KNOWN ALL ALONG  … THEY’D KNOW THEY ALL KNEW THE SAME … HOW SAD

*******

THERE’S NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN AND IT’S THE SAME OLD SONG isn’t it .. IT’S HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF .. 

*******

LIFE’S REALITY?
WHAT IS IT WE SEEK?
IT’S BETTER THOUGHT ! !  BETTER DANCING LOUDER SINGING
THAT’S ALL .. !!

*******

FREEDOM’S PRESS IS FREE AFTER ALL .. !  THE FREE PRESS MORNING EDITION … IT  COMES DELIVERED TO THE HOUSE EACH MORNING ANNOUNCING WITH GLEE DETROIT’S DONE IT AGAIN … THEY’RE NUMBER ONE  ….. IN THE MURDER CATEGORY?  (THERE’S LONG ROADS YET TO TRAVEL … IT’S A DEEP,  DARK SECRET … YOU KNOW IT WELL …)
 … BUT SERIOUSLY …..  IT’S NOT ABOUT TAKING LIVES  … IT’S ABOUT 4 SQUARE COUPLES DANCING TO AND FRO, MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE …
PLUS … IT LEADS TO HIGHER BIRTH RATES … LOVE … KS !

images

Within the Fractures Of His Mind

after death consumed Her his needs festered and grew to phantasmagorical proportions …continued …

Desperate to satisfy his

need

 he stole Time

from his

landlady …

…..

he milked it from the

telephone during her

numerous but

brief,

trips

away …

…..

of course she discovered his

deception …

…..

he hid behind his deceit

but

it’s easy to see lies

when they stand

naked

in the middle of a

room …

…..

her hatred boiled

over …

it shattered his roomed

confinement …

she couldn’t stand to be

around him  any

longer…

she hated the air he

breathed … !

she gave no

succor to his

loneliness …

…..

there came a day when

she vanquished him from

the

four walls she sold

him …

…..

she banished him from her

brick Victorian space

and

when he turned his back

she

burned every vestige of his life

in the front

yard …

…..

she watched with calm detachment while

every remnant of his history

rose up in flames and black

smoke …

lost forever to the

destiny

that awaits us

all …

…..

another death had

overtaken

him …

another relocation awaited

him …

…..

Now, he lives within the

fire and the demons

he could not

fight …

inside the void of the

schism

he fell into …

…..

through windows into darkness

he seeks nothing

that can be

found …

…..

he’s a sad and lonely little boy

who’s

lost somewhere in

time …

…..

an old and toothless man

who

wanders inside

rooms

within the

fractures of his

mind …

lonely-person-thumb-300x240-27530

Astounding Beauty 

I watch within my sight held brightly

the light inside my mind …

…..

i move about the other worlds

that live and breathe inside …

to other places and times

the wind upon my face …

…..

no need to scatter far and wide

in search of other worlds to see …

no thought of time and space …

those worlds reside inside of me,

i take them for the asking …

…..

i use them joyfully …

 i drink them as a thirsty sponge …

while wondering about

the stars at night …

or if a man on the moon

can see my tiny light

shining

brightly …

Songs of Softest Memories 

i sing the songs of softest

memories … 

the songs of time gone by …  

the words to stories known so well that 

float behind my eyes …

the softest words i hear at night 

from wordless breath 

the light that lives

within ….. 

i turn the pages of the book 

i see within my 

mind .. i listen to the 

sighs … 

the songs of softest memories of 

lives and loves gone by …

Lake Dreams

Unknown

When i was was a boy

I spent summers along the northern shoreline of

Michigan

on a point of land wrapped around a fresh water bay …

where I had the freedom to

roam the sandy beaches

camp out among the dunes

explore the pine woods 

or

search through cat tails in tannin colored ponds

 for …

all sorts of life … !

…..

I fished for perch and small mouth bass

off the end of the Coast Guard dock

stretched 100 yards into bay waters ..

at the same spot where my Dad learned to fish

when he was a boy .. !

…..

I swam in the cool fresh water of the Great Lake

whenever and wherever I chose to …

diving into the waves, rising and falling,

my hands skimming the ridged sandy bottom

mimicking waves above me …

…..

During summer storms

when

countless fingers sent giant white caps

 crashing against the shore

the northern wind would lift me up into the trees

where I was absorbed into pine scent,

yellow pollen, poplar leaves and

curling birch paper …

…..

At night when soft waves lapped against the shoreline

I became the sounds of the lake

in concert with the trees

and lake’s whispered words,

a chorus of unspoken thought

wrapped in glacial water and

ancient life

the hush of night secrets …

…..

 When I melted into summer sand …

joined with the grains,

the rush of waves,

the blue black night with stars

the

orange moon on the horizon,

the lights on the distant shore,

the unseen green of another reality ..

the great lake came alive within me

and my

spirit

filled the

sky …

The Stream Within

images-7

 I thought I had slept well …

I had visions and

remembered some of them too …

…..

 As morning wore on

I thought I had finally made contact with

the stream beneath

the frozen

ice …

…..

 For a while I even thought I had a

fish or two on the line … !

…..

 As morning passed I felt the

energy of the dream

bristle and slowly

sink below the surface …

and

once again

my line went

slack …

Ode To Stephen Vincent Benet

images-13

… i read words with love each day and night and

write in their shadow, hoping one day in time – with inspiration –

that i’ll come near to

(… with what gifts that i’ve been given …)

the magic light of those geniuses i hold so dear …

…..

… for there’s always hope

that light will reign inside, one day

my eyes will open wide and words i’ve written

on the page will give me

the greatest satisfaction …

 “I can be that good, at least occasionally!! (i say to myself)

i have it in me from time to time to have a measure of that genius

if only i had the time … or that special way i think and feel at the “now” …

if only i could find that inspiration whenever i please

i too could bring to my words such life!

(… my fondest desire, “if this could only happen to me every

day … !”)

…..

… it doesn’t …

so, i am content with optimistic hope …

…..

… one day i raised my head … i cocked it a certain way,

i saw a distant point of light i knew was there but never was aware of …

… a light of different brightness

a kind i’ve never seen, within it subtler shades

of dark and light … all colors between written more

distinct with form and subtle shadings …

commonalities with unique differences that

make us each who we are …

places where we live our lives

immersed in storied colors

that reached into my mind unseen …

revealed that day

in private screening …

these gifts of sight the artist had

given me,

the privilege to receive,

sight deeper than what I’d rarely if ever seen … …..

the bright lights of

Stephen Benet …

…..

… his words, combined within such thought and brightest vision … the world encompassed within his mind …

becaming great gifts given from the

heart

of that most creative artist

from his mind into

mine …

works created by Stephen Benet   …

…..

Beautiful words written upon the page

each a cache of all that life can be with

details never seen …

… a panorama of life in a sea of humanity …

inclusive stories made crystal clear from sunlight distilled

strung on silver threads with pearls taken from the sea

for us to see.

A hand so far beyond the charging words

on my screen dimly lighted, my hopeful inspirations

made more humble by

every  word I read.

Words and thoughts and sights i see

so wondrously laid,

if i could, i would say to him with humble finality :

“My playground in the sand could never come close to the majesty of your skies

your nights of visual pallor your days of life and death, or squalor,

success, pain or love given forevermore then taken with cruel exchange

and many more worlds even more profound with beauty treasured that you

have given.

Such is the beauty you have given me  ….”

 I wouldn’t turn a page but with delicate fingers …

with greatest respect for each word written on every page their

resting place sublime, still alive containing his dreams …

though he’s not living

having risen from his mind

onto paper,

from river of deepest mystery.

 The works of Stephen Benet …

…..

His dreams, gifts given to my

most sacred places.

You could call it soul or

where bright light

resides waiting to be released …

or that secret place

deep within that sees and

knows what is real and what is not.

…..

Such is the power within the works of Stephen Benet …

…..

With such great power they lured me

into other worlds

the worlds within his thoughts

replacing mine

the beauty of his dreams to my world

given me.

Such are the works of Stephen Benet …

The Rectory

5562740512_9c5206e2d4_m

The Rectory

One cool Autumn night a

three quarter moon above the trees

at the age of 14 or 17 or 21 .. (does it really matter … ?)

against the brick wall along the side of that hospital I gave my first

True kiss and made the Great Discovery.

***

Across the street on the opposite side

corner sat a place of worship with the tallest spire in town where one night

fire claimed the bodies of both the church, the

rectory next door and by doing so,

stole the real world representations of

all that happened in that house on the front

porch and kitchen and wherever else we could

steal away, suspend time and lock our faces together in

adolescent passion …

ESOTERICA !

Esoterica

Thrown out shit, ridiculous, almost worthless works combined into one stupid, bullshit and not a LITTLE fricking brilliant at times; poems, incomplete thoughts and ideas .. very brief stories; all told in the most esoteric of way.

images copy 52

Is There Something Wrong With Me?

 I wonder if there’s something wrong with 

me about the way i feel? … hypersensitive to 

smells, my teeth on edge with some 

unexplained sensation like they’re loose 

(what have I been doing to them!)  

A little dizzy at times but ….

That SMELL!  WHAT IS THAT?!  Does it 

follow me around or is it something my 

brain manufactures as a bi-product of the 

confusion and back drop from neighboring neural short

short circuits melting down into 

pools of unknown 

sensation??  

why not?!  it’s pretty esoteric so ….  who knows?

 The Mystery Behind Love Below the Surface.  

images-4

Two conflicted, to write about …

Two, searching long on simple  

ideas hidden below the surface,  beneath 

visions real

seeking union or, 

solitary visions beckoning reunion with

dreams of 

time …

long gone

past .. 

Love … it’s SO esoteric! … Part of the larger kingdom of 

ESOTERICA!

Within the Streams and Fields of Life

images-1

She luxuriated in spending

summers at the cottage

her only chore to

keep us

fed …

then we were

free with no set

boundaries …

…..

the space she created between

breakfast and lunch then lunch and

dinner …

she spent lying in the

sun listening to her

leather covered transistor radio on the

concrete pad outside the

back door to the

cottage …

…..

… for me, the empty spaces she

craved were a

blessing …

…..

i roamed freely on my

bicycle …

…..

whenever and

wherever i wanted i

swam in the great

lake …

****

  i dove into the waves

– rising and falling –

my hands skimming the ridged sandy bottom that

mimicked waves on the surface; 

(more time  under water than on top… 

endless hours submerged …)

***

the waves fell in soft whispers at night or

crashed against the shore during storms; 

giant white caps with countless fingers that 

pulled themselves toward  shore …  

they 

beckoned me to ride with them if I was strong enough to

pass through and earn the right to 

turn and accompany them to their

ultimate destination –

collapsed onto the wet sand to

make room for the next thundering

heave and the 

next and the

next and the

next …..   

***

I roamed through the

woods of scrub pine and

sand dunes and milkweed, cat tails or huckleberries that we

searched for and picked from

patches where they grew in colonies toward the

end of summer when you could

smell them in the

air …

…..

we dropped them into tin

pails, took them back,  where he made them into

pies he

baked on the

weekends (when he came up), with so much sugar you could

feel the grains inside your

mouth before they

melted …

we closed our eyes meditating on the

sound of

‘immmmm …

…..

we always asked for

seconds and they were given ..

freely …

A Larger World

Unknown

I can still see, with exquisite detail,  a

path,

leading to the creek where I played as a boy,

  that cut acres of brown field grass where

pheasants, snakes, and monarchs lived alongside

 curved streets where houses built

from grains of sand taken from the earth

not far away

slowly filled the empty spaces

between.

***

Beyond the creek I can see the behemoths slowly rolling their

captured, boxed freight on risen ground after

long hauls over

ribbons of steel …

… the sound of  their resonant cleansing breath so deeply powerful , and  

for a brief moment

terrifying,

that it  seemed to lift me off my feet!  

***

At times these worlds

Float and swim around me, they

draw close then, move away,  again and again.

I pirouette through space and time with them.

We share eyes and light streams.

We twist and flow into one another and

even when they are

dim and far away I sense them

behind the veil …..

The Tide of Life

The Tide of Life

images copy 58

A man ate sugar from an envelope/The brown haired lady who hates me glared … (Her head thrown back, her haughty Eyes/Staring down at me) while/Honey cakes, Greek Gods and the/Blue Aegean Sea beckoned from/Behind curved Glass.

Across from me a/Smart phone got smarter stealing/Knowledge from the/Tips of a girl’s fingers/Dishes clanked, waitresses charmed/Greek walls framed the Scotch plaid carpet, the/Chinese cook, behind the wall threw/Anger into my mind.

A bell rang, the/Spell was gone …

She averted her gaze, took their/Passports, set them free to roam along their/Paths, bellies full of Fuel.

It all happened on the seventh day of my voyage/A repeat of the tide of Life, each day/Another time …

so little to/Remember.

Ex-It

images-2 copy 8

images-1 copy 17I feel an angry black whirlwind blowing against me./My emotions churn within.  Dust, dirt, bits of/stone sting my eyes and ears … batter my face.

I can’t think.  The fierce wind is too loud; the black/wind blows through my eyes and swirls within my brain./I blindly grope for something – anything – any fucking/thing to hold on to as I am buffeted about.

I flail my arms,  I howl in desperation to/confuse the raging whirlwind, but it whips me/more fiercely.  The wind mocks me; it threatens to /submerge me into the soil; to bury me inside the earth.

I am sinking into the ground shouting for help.  I know my/words cannot be heard above the din.  Below me a voice is repeating, repeating/youyouyouyouyouyou ………

In desperation i scream …

I sense calming air, a/ flicker of light that’s/too distant to understand.

I let myself fall into an abyss; I feel the/pulse, pulse, pulse …

I’m in a tunnel lying on a sled a/sloping incline before me with no end in sight.

To my right I see doors.  Door after door, after door sloping/down and down and down along the right side of /an endless incline.

A voice asks me if I want to go and I say, “Yes.”

The sled slides down the slope and gathers speed./With more speed the doors pass by more quickly.

To the front of me I see a limitless number of doors as I /approach them faster and faster.

I realize that each door is a period of/TIME.  I see hundreds of thousands, millions, millions of/millions of doors in the distance as they approach and/ pass by.

With increasing speed, the doors become slimmer/until they are thin lines almost touching … then, they/blend together and the wall becomes solid grey.

An incline appears in the distance.  My sled/slows and gradually comes to a halt in front of a/door the width and height of my sled./A voice says/ – “Do you want to enter?”

The voice is calming.  I have no fear.  I think for a moment.  “Yes.”

A sign above the door says one word “free-ze”.

My sled moves through the door into blackness … .

The sled is gone.  I lie supine; my eyes closed, within the/grip of a warm, nurturing hand … soft and alive .. living matter.  The/ warm humas of the earth.  And I sleep.

The Gray of Darkest Night

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I sat and watched in peaceful trance

water cascade toward me,

it’s white caps reaching for the shore

where purest water and land met

in perfect balance.

A half mile off shore men fished in the trough between

shallow water colored tan and

deep water blue that extended to the horizon

then further where deepest knowledge lies hidden beyond the

fog that blurs the boundary line

of the event horizon  …

when the world and everything in it

came alive!

an immense delta shaped cloud miles across

morphed into a giant sparrow

its tail feathers tendril-like

emerging from a roiling line of black

trailing far behind

each twisting through air

in its own unique way …

parts of the whole drifting away,

thin strands of cloud DNA

seeking like minded life forms

reforming into new more powerful forces or

receding into the mist

i listened for words grown silent;  empty space greater than

the sound of crashing waves,

or the passing wind that filled my ears …

when shades of gray surrounded me;

the sandy bottom of the great lake became a subtle shade of gray;

the white caps a more subtle shade … with motion …

the shoreline grass multi faceted shades,

the sky in slow diminishing muted shades of gray

slowly turning toward

the blue black of night

I was living in the gray zone before nighttime on the

boundary line between time when

 dreams from beyond the horizon are born

within the light of darkest night

Lost Dream

images copy 4

I thought I had slept well: I had

Visions and remembered some of them too.

As morning wore on I thought I had

Finally made contact with the stream beneath

The frozen ice.

For a while I even thought I had a

Fish or two on the line! ..

As morning passed I felt the

Energy of the dream

Bristle and slowly sink below the surface and

Once again my line went slack .,.

Dreams of Days Gone By

Nature

From all that is life, what I’m most grateful for, are the dreams of days past where I  can still wander the streets and sidewalks of long ago and look upon a world that remains unchanged.

The things I still can see! … those who came and went; the love I felt with purest heart;  that I could live with such ardor!

… at a time when life was young and new and fresh and clean when we were guided by some inner light then …

touched by new sensation, we opened the gate and left that world forever …