all being welcome

17 Mar

encuentro

Sun rises over pink horizons with a
fading moon in the morning sky.
Pet rainbows appear and deliver
daily messages from cloudy heaven:
COME BACK AGAIN TOMORROW.

First footsteps in cool sand and the
surprise of silhouettes of earlier souls.
Short paddles in paradise into lineups
where conversations are carried over
waves, days, weeks, decades.

Laughter swells and intersecting sections
are made or missed, down meridians of liquid life.
Swells roll in and rails and hatchets are buried.
Lives are lived around the rhythm of the tides.

17 Mar

dune

Only half here
and completely elsewhere
I’ve been swept
bit by bit,
like sand in a desert hill
in my new direction.
Parts of me have gone ahead
but my roots are still in place
waiting
impatient to dissolve.

17 Mar

stormy teacup

in silence there is everything
but when hope leaves
mostly there is nothing
just a silent everything
that takes up all the space.
a muffled measured maybe assent ghost
of a slow motion imaginary ascent.
if i was tickled gilt by baroque tongue
now i’m only guilty
with forever guilt
of broken language
and trauma translations in tone
your measured muffled schism
and dirty sarcasm hateful disingenuous ungenerous prism prison
woven words with integers of cynicism
and interstices of thoughtless/ness
all leading onwards and away/hateful away
into above absence
so big it fills the cup
stormy teacup
that once upon a time runneth over
and the gusts of wind
that blow only in ghost towns
once upon a time wild and alive
now blow back my tumbleweed hair
and force tears sideways in tracks
of dirt dust upon my barren cheeks
no.
don’t,
kiss my cheeks.

17 Mar

the squeeze

shame, that dirty old man
stands in a shadowed wait
round a blind corner
accosts me with glee
and what is the use of it all
of every all anything anyway?
of perfecting this pattern of shimmerweave
where everything fit flows
in a current stream of symmetry
in a submerge of all
symbol cymbal crash down dawn wake
moving on now never still not silent
tomorrow brings something else again and
here there when where
i am squeezed between these two hes
both of whom fail refuse to see seize
again the shame
that what i am is entirely
not intelligible not entirely intelligible
i get they don’t get it
makes me ungettable
not gettable somewhat alien naive leaf leaves shards sharps
broken breaking taking forsaking
making one plus one plus three equal me
the me me me
oh
fuck me.

more 7

17 Mar

diorama

myfamilybeforeme
the never alive but not undead
love of things come up through decades
to comfort and delight forever gone
and going where people cannot
the bittersweet holding onto of things
and the keepings of catalogue:
the linens and utensils
thirteen mismatched glasses
the damp books with torn covers
the collected collections
the discarded collected
a commonness of time
the thrice daily kissed cutlery
the wedding knives
the obsolete devices (mocking our oblivion)
some charming debris
and jars of pickled hearts formaldehidden
(cloudy with dreams) preserving in liquid
a forensic inanimate intimacy
that will always be
not anymore.

17 Mar

birdfish

barefeet bond to you
and briefly we become
birdfish
an evanescent creature
driven down dynamic intersections
unreachable if not for your
foamy inner white
and hard fragility
the pink wings
and lady fins
we
adorn
the face
the curve
artlife in motion
a particular prayer to beauty
from the inner outer space
that can only be got at as
birdfish.

17 Mar

binary

waking in the night
in spiderweb galaxies
to join domestic dots
with these, all my yesterdays
all your tomorrows
revolving, dueling, dueting
in the black space of
what will be.
i feel you
kissing me with wisdom lips
your words waking the eternal
yes in me, the barbaric yawp
that slumbered on an inner tide
almost gone to sleep.
waking in the night
in spiderweb galaxies
to open wild windows
with these, our gifts that glitter
our gifts that anchor
binary, blinding, so binding
in the glistening light of
we.

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all being welcome