Sunday, November 1, 2009

You, who have trusted the Self to keep faith.

water

to be water

fish swim through muscles

forked tails disappear

from my pores

into flesh.

roe and sharp scales

thrash upstream

what happens

when they reach

the heart?

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Tat Tvam Asi

cool porcelain china
warm carved wood
an untouched plate
under unwanted words

why do you dream
silken riches in heaven
when everything is
only sky wrapped in earth?

Monday, August 17, 2009

fold beneath me, countless bliss
arrogance bleeds innocence

bend beneath this foot, this thunder

flat
flat
flat
flat

present to me this feast of wonder
give me groups of four, not three

I will witness from Her chair
(gilded gold on earthen dais),

Love spontaneously tempting
cardinals from silver dishes.
i am an island.
a rock and a cave
and sometimes in the early hours
sweat stains burn and hiss on ice

i am Shiva, i am Shiva

OM

OM

OM

a world set to drain
am i dreaming again?

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Sacrum

A waterfall pulses inside of my womb
laying waste
playing havoc
with rhythms of sunbeams.
Flowing and crushing inside of my body
held safe in free anger
most peaceful of bones.
Hallowed this precipice carves out sharp water
drowning a sweet guitar's fluttering notes.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Feral

suddenly i have the urge
to sketch you
with your curves
and bulges
holding this
lively
pineapple.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Mecca

bitter pilgrims
dry mold pathways
sand shimmers
mecca beckons
overhead oasis threatens
absolution

heathen's mistress
kneel
before the black stone
pray forgiveness
weep
surrender

children hurl ice frozen cubes
past the MickeyD's
waiting for tourists
but these ice chips want blood

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Shiva


Muscles twitch preventing mercury's
Escape from kajoled eyes.
A throat strains, blacker now than blue
Greets gritty saline misery.

She orients herself toward
Him, seated on a leopard's skin.
Cupped hands - pleas,
Drop,
Allow
Serene
Merciful havens
Etching a path
Through smoke-marred skies.

Her vision blurs,
Heavy metal
Overtakes
Her universe.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Sarah

Shall we
decapitate
the tiny pieces
fragile bits of being
we've found in pitch
departed petals
melting steel
repelling ashes?

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Crown Jewel

White candle wax drips silently
releasing warmest scents to touch
rounded dabs on top of softest
safest evening
Tragedy.

Sensuous,
Dark writhing lines
of tiny beings rush by towards
clumped unfinished bits of bread
you offer on
your cardboard boxes
Flat
obtrusive
thieves of floor space

Wind asserts supremacy
the ants expand in brilliance
fleeting second,
dark,
All shadows die.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Moorchild

The taste of Bournvita reminds me of something.
Blown glass, warm tea cups, sunny wood reeds...
Each sip of warm liquid greets tongue, lips, cold fingers
Stirs gently old feelings
Dark Moorfolk bag pipe
dancers fringing my memories
Come closer as each swallow strengthens my intake
Diffuses till everything turns richly brown
And all that I hear are strange songs in my head
Familiar, they know me, and strain to break forth
But the rim tips, the warmth drains
And my cup is empty.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

(When Trust Feels Like Losing (incomplete version))

I am red and raw and masculine
Hurting
Racing
Breeding Hate

Blue within this jeweled box
Engraving hot words
on my skin
Hiding its deceptive being
Refuses to reveal tonight.

Monday, February 23, 2009

missing

You need not bathe,
Need not sleep
You
Need not bless me.

beauty is too strong
for us men to live by

where

is this passion,
beauty-poisoned madness?

the wolf snarls
his teeth pierce
the flesh of your own needs

rainfall
soft,
clear.
The sun shines
In bright heavens
luminous.
No rainbow beckons.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Biogenesis

I am fallen in darkness
A bleak solitude

Rose perfume sweeps
Metal boundaries
(Stained glass.)

Three paces forward
And six to the right.
The door feels like this
When cold winds blow at night.

I won't open my eyes
Brazen, plain depth-less globes

Like the bones of our oceans
Impossibly slow

Should my slack flabby eyelids strain,
Shake you from dreaming?
Unblinking
Unfocused

Skeletal masses
Time-powdered bone

Sifting softly
Drifting slowly
Aging like wine.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

with sugar on top

Silence,
All pervading bliss
Silence,
Only virtue.
Only real & only warning
Only reason, only truth.
Expand contract, my silence
Only speak to me without decay
Penetrate and Permeate
My Silence
Only meaning

Monday, February 9, 2009

the ocean's rolled away again
it's taken all his joie de vivre
the ocean spray falls flat again
it's less intense than spittle

there is no we there's only one
this place this fear this giving
.

weeping willows
cease for nothing

stake, decapitate and burn.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

"Learn To Be Quiet" by Franz Kafka

Learn To Be Quiet

You need not do anything.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
You need not even listen, just wait.
You need not even wait,
just learn to be quiet, still and solitary.
And the world will freely offer itself to you unmasked.
It has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.

-Franz Kafka

Wither

I wanted
You
long after sunrise
even while the wind was
padding echoed, empty places
whole.

Sawdust trappings, gold in bright rays
Shift above your human skin

I reach for you with fingertips
My own? Perhaps, but better yours.
Those roses never promised love
They wither, promises of now.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Chocolate Milk

Rich, thick
life and creamy
cold
blown glass
touched to taste
cold metal
Stop
I'll hold you
on my tongue
a moment,
release
cascade
down
Stop
They say you have breadth
from blood
and they Say
hungry birds
would starve
in space

Stop

But the touch of your skin
on my lips is enough
we'll send them out
anyway

Frederico Garcia Lorca

Sometimes I wonder if the true ideas behind our sentences can really be expressed in words. We humans have these sentiments, and we try to express them through language. But the words in our hearts are discordant with the words we speak, if not to ourselves then to everybody else, because each word is loaded with different colors of emotion for each person based on individual experiences and understandings of each word.
From this perspective of language, we are all separated by impenetrable boundaries. Yet most of us react to something which is a product of another human being, be it art, poetry or music. And in that moment maybe we do feel the same moment of complete silence and utter bliss, joy, ecstasy.

I don't know if others have felt the same way. That moment when nothingness enters your being. But that nothing is all, and you feel so complete just to witness this moment of truth.

I was going to write about Frederico Garcia Lorca for you, my friend, so far away in Harvard. I will leave you to explore his poetry. The collection "In Search of Duende" is a favorite of mine. It is the duende which I seek to find or to rekindle in the people around me, because it seems as if we have collectively lost our urge to experience life.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Anthropomorphic

Yesterday I wrote to you,
a letter filled with ys and dots.
Yesterday I searched for you
I ran across the desert concrete
searching for a sign of you, kept track
with bloody footprints (breadcrumbs).
Yesterday I ran and cried, this body's liquid
rose into the wind and Zeus, I hope it smacked
your windshield driving down the 101 in your fuel
efficient lotus with the windows up and AC blasting
your frozen botoxed face and lips. Your pencil is in
our ugly house, lying broken on the floor next to
a glass full of orange juice.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Magnets and Pea Pods

Here,
This is the flowing brook, I told you
where I played so long. And I've
danced here and I've played here
alone beneath these branches.
Last week I followed
the life-scented water to a river,
for hours I walked and stepped
into the ocean for the first time,
saw your face. And I knew
you saw me too
because I caught you glancing
at my face to see if
I had noticed you. But I didn't smile,
I only turned, and splashed
back into the ocean's arms. The sky
grew dark, and when I left, I felt
as though I'd left
something behind.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

oneword: Grapes

Pop! Your toes are like grapes,
my sweet, dear friend.
They are round and full
like bursting grapes, but
your toes will not burst.

And you smell so good, like
the scent of happiness and
youthful joy.
I like you.
I love you.
My sweet, grape-toed friend.