Monday, March 31, 2008

31. Quality

Quality of living.
Quality of time.
Quality of children
across the golden line.

Quality of friendship.
Quality of sign.
Quality of silence
between the rhyming line.

Quality of intake.
Quality of flow.
Quality of outgo
around the glowing line

Quality of look.
Quality of itch.
Quality of scratch
whenever you appear.

Quality of you.
Quality of me.
Quality of love
with jumps of inspiration.

30. Novices At Play

Novices At Play

Desire overcomes the nun's hard bench.
Girls play on distant beaches
tightness each in slow motion each
on remote beaches each.

Water, beach, woods, to a triangle,
an infinite point of unseen movement.
Wavearch, wavefall.
Chasing, yelling, hot sand on wet feet.
Watching black birds at the seashore.

The creating energy expands until
maximum ergs squeeze the universe
in the tight matrix of the born.
The dead remain unburied in their flesh
their strength holding the universe
as a construct
against anarchy
against chaos.

Rivers of life run over the chasm shore
and humans wreathe with anxious joy
that life has come and relief begun
in cells of hardness.

Monday, March 24, 2008

29. The Sea Of Me

"Man, that walking bag of sea water, is the the oceans
way of going ashore"

"I never knew I was the ocean of my own dreams"

The sea of me
rolls contentedly
over mountains of egos,
under volumes of sighs,
around runs of ruins,
and ends with a shhhhhh of pebbles
on Dover Beach.

The sea of me flows
through translations of pedestrians
betwixt cornucopias of sounds,
around tombs of literacy
and booms of complexity.

Tombs of literacy and complicity
that Dante never guessed
defending the shape of lunacy.

The sea of me
reserves this space to flow
on times continuity.
And down we go and up we flow
around lines of concinnity
that bind us to walk ashore forevermore
as bags of fluid flowing.
Liquids of awareness swimming on the surface.
An intelligent fluid rowing thru the universe.

Friday, March 21, 2008

28. Great Authors Revisited, Numbers One And Two

Come out Henry David Thoreau you old fart!
I know you're in there,
meditating over Troy's defeat, eating your
"Indian meal (cheaper than rye)".
You can't bullshit me with all your fine self quotations.
Living in the woods is a drag
and you damn well know it!

Don't shake your Moby Dick at me Mr. Melville.
Talk about cabbages and kings,
well ambergris and God beats all.
Although I must say,
being part of the connecting link,
I am not unaffected by
your vision-version.

27. Snowfalls

The quiet of:
The falling of:

The sliding of:
The fullness of:

The blessing of:
The coolness of:

The lightness of:
The whiteness of:

The wholeness of:
The brightness of:

The closed world of:
The surrounding of:

The love of:
The love.
Snow fall.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

26. Wagon Trains

The children circle the adult table
Like movie indians around the white shirt wagons,
Yelling, whooping, performing, letting it all out
With physical dexterity.
The wagons, enclosed, guarded, keeping it all in
With verbal dexterity.

Off in a corner of the lawn a young girl
stands, watching with blank face.
The filling observation of a child growing
To be harvested in old age.

I do not know if she is empty with hate or fulled with love.
I only hope she will learn how wonderful it all is.