Long Day, Hot Shower

2011-12-27T18:52:00.000-08:00

Today I was muted by the infinitelysurd.

Today I sat motionless and couldn’tsay a word.

Today was another gray, planetaryherd.

Today I’d rather be a migratorybird.

Today I slaved at the constructionsite.

Today I created another good fight.

Today I accepted the dying of thelight.

Today I don’t know wrong fromright.

Today I came home with cauterizedwounds,

Only to be deafened by a deluge ofsound.

Hot water hit me and lifted thisdoom.

Déjà vu, a pattern of distortedwomb dreams,

Freed my soul,

And enabled me to grow wings.

Big Trampoline

2011-11-26T15:14:00.001-08:00

I miss our sundays at the park by the lake

With themotherly banyans in more than one place

Theindigenous palms that could bend and not break

And theones that had trunks like papiermâché

It wouldcome unglued when they started to flake

And thebaby manatees that swam there by mistake

Swimmingright up to the sad little shoreline of clay

Consideringtheir options and then swimming away

Afraid ofthe tangled ladies laying in wait

They werejust some old mangroves, and nothing to hate

I missthese beauties like the leaves and their sway

And thepeople who lived there like humorless gods

I don’tmiss them or their shimmering façades

Thetowering fortresses that kept us at odds

Purveyorsof solitude, a circle of frauds

Theydecided that the trees were obstructing their view

So throughmuch litigation and reddening hues

Theychanged how the word “preservation” was used

Thebulldozers came and made everything new

I hate newthings when the motives aren’t true

So the nexttime we have our sundays together

We shouldgo back to the park where the beauties were gathered

And returnsomething old to the glistening water

And honorthe ghosts of arboreal mothers

We’ll flyin the face of the powers unseen

And thenwe’ll make love on their big trampoline

The Gelding

2011-11-06T00:20:00.000-07:00

I can recollect laying downcrescents of iron

To collect my bounty of a filly in heat

Equestrian mercenary put out topleasure

I made my salary of hindquartermeat

But my calling in life was to spillinto battle

So I trusted the process andtrudged through the days

They turned me into a warhorse withsurgery

They took my studhood completelyaway

And I left those hot pursuitshappily behind,

For the perfect pastures of anunbridled mind.

And now I can canter with scarcelya care

To god’s own mongolia or I don’tknow where

To breathe in the bodiless elysianair

And hopefully fall in with ahealthier mare

Nirvana

2011-10-06T19:26:00.000-07:00

i’d like to be a clear soul arriving at nirvana

immune to a million forms of outmoded dogma

or maybe it would end like an icelandic saga

i could die in battle and transcend to valhalla

in the real world i don’t go anywhere special

i drive to my workplace enveloped in metal

when it’s all said and done i return to my dwelling

the events of my workday are seldom worth telling

sometimes i get this outlandish sensation

when i’m drunk at a nightclub with no reservations

that i could turn into vapor and ascend to the rafters

and live in the colored mists, forever and ever

when i fall in love it’s a typical disaster,

a cocktail of feelings and i’m easily plastered

the woman involved gets panicked and smothered

and i become even sadder when i no longer have her

but as soon as we locked eyes the saddening ended,

the stillbirths upon which my sickness depended

could finally sleep the way nature intended

and give me a taste of this natural rapture

When Glassy Rocks Covered The Land

2011-09-12T18:51:00.000-07:00

I once got lost in a country of wimples,

When my heart was the captive of a woman of the cloth,

The saintly mother of anointed whispers,

Who couldn’t deny me the heavenly covers.

I saw her phantom in the breath of a candle,

And couldn’t resist her immaculate druthers.

We lived in the valleys of sinuous motion,

In fuzzy meadows and sweetwater streams,

In raspy moans and volcanic explosions,

In tiny rivulets and plunging ravines.

We could’ve spent a millenium thrusting,

Entrusting the rest to an unborn queen.

And when there were fires they were higher than temples,

And worse than the righteous tears of a child.

They murdered the forests and scorched every shadow,

And they burned in our bodies right down to the marrow.

The least just war on record to date,

Was nothing compared to what love could create.

Where once lay the blankets of our lush vegetation,

There is now just a crater of treasonous waste,

And the remnants of what spread them all over creation,

A matterhorn fallen from vacuous space.

When two ones wanting was too much to stand,

And was still more when glassy rocks covered the land.