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Let it be known

August 17, 2018

Let it be known
I am neither satisfied
nor dissatisfied with this moment
like a foreign survey bouncing onto your screen at night
headphone in ears
escaping for a moment
only to return to my thoughts
Save the Mariachi from dancing to his own song
being the butt of a joke
in some boardroom
misunderstood
despite God’s love being sent
as a telegram just for him

the trees are always the same when I look out
your window
I take them as the whole when they are individual
as my blood cells
we flow towards you at night
heating up then warming slightly to a purr
in your arms I feel unlikely skin
advancing around my lower back muscles
rubbing like the act could set a life
upon a cloud
in motion
afloat on a dark, humid night
hovering slightly above
any vision
of apparent dissatisfaction

confusion seems to be part of life
a thought considered if you believe
the mind is real
if not float on free one
open your telegram in the sun
and write your own song
then sing it for whomever dares to listen

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A wineless basement

March 29, 2018

She followed me down a flight of stairs toward a wineless basement
I’ve opened brighter things before
lines left me ruthlessly
heat escaped through the cracks in the ceiling
I didn’t notice the seeping or her leaving
but I couldn’t deny her return
she wore a bow but it wasn’t exposed
I found coffee on the mantle next to the
clock that was stopped
the mug was mine but I don’t drink
I have enough energy
she knows that
and how I love bows
and being tied up to her mystery
my fantasy and to both our realities
seeping partially out of the ceiling crack
and finding sky
good
we’ve finally reached past our outstretched
hands that clasp at a fate I was harboring
gently
waiting for the moment to be itself
and be released

Happy Love Day

February 21, 2018

I’ve heard other words now I turn myself over to you

a day of birds perched on top of a high branch

looking out

willing

its flight is filled with love

 

the clear day is in my mind’s sunlight

Love day came once a year, then once a month

then every other day

let’s make it our morning breath

 

A day is a day because of Love

The sun chases God around a universe She created

his blaze filled my step

moved me to you

The moon came at night, provided its sounds

solidified our love, drained it into countless forms

like Love day, countless days

I search by the light of sun for you

the Moon’s tides turn just for One

-for Jen

 

 

What makes us think they care about us

February 16, 2018

What makes us think they care about
us
more than they care about themselves

Our health care system is a business
how much money can we make on our vulnerable
our insurance companies salivate

what makes us think they care about
us
more than they care about themselves

Our military budget could feed the world
feed them well
while we still feel a threat due to fomented wars
and covert operations that feed our corporations
bottom lines

so what makes us think they they care about
us
more than they care about themselves

I saw a woman in the street
upon her head they beat
she spoke her mind and refused to move
she said freedom of speech
she was told retreat

what make us really think they care about
us
more than they care about themselves

pockets lined from lobby X
NRA, drug companies, weapon maker
I’ll pay you off
you do me a favor

revolving door of men and women
democrat, republican,
bow down to the flag
and the bribed and bought politician

they will tell you that we are number one
then sell you the latest lethal gun
thin the herd
buy a share
ask them if they really care
stock prices are up
I have my power
greed divides our land
while bullets shower
above our heads
at entertainment venues
too bad our hard days work
is being used
to
line the pockets of the 1 percent
.5 percent
.1 percent
more money than other countries
governments

and we still wonder when there will be change
as we go bankrupt from our health care bills
and schools hold bake sales
while air force one’s toilet seat costs as much
the teacher’s paycheck

Yeah the media reports the stories
the guts, the details, the glory
even though studies show
this helps produce another show
another gunman’s sad illusion
will soon fill your six o’clock news

a revolving door

waiting for them to care about us
like they cared about the African slave,
the Native American, Women’s rights and LGBT too
no, don’t think they care about you
maybe a little bit, maybe a smidgen
but not enough to overtake
self-preservation
plus greed
well beyond needs

funny thing
we elected them
more revolving door lines fed
another generation bled

when will we meet that critical mass?
that cusp of evolution’s wake
that awakened intelligence that is enough
I don’t know, I will try
do the best I know how

but I won’t wake in the morning expecting them to care
and read their monopolized newspapers
selling me scripted news

I may write a word or two
get them off my chest
but as for wasting my time
waiting for action from my countries elites
I refuse

I prepared myself for breathing

June 20, 2017

I prepared myself for breathing
the kind I notice and give thanks to
where my thoughts slowly dissipate
my intentions start alone
with you
I have seen wine turn back to water
seen the Red Sea join together and sing
I must believe that a miracle is not a miracle
but plausible
as science is
and we see it through to the best of our ability
a dolphin jumps out of the water in front of me
I believe in God at that moment
that is the essence of any thought I may have
I will curl my lip with confusion
until you right my ship with your astonishing breath
adrift but not lost
alight but not fully seeing
in love but not in realization how full love can be
when its boundaries are me but no map
can contain such shivery lines
thank God I’m not a country
I’d be in danger of being taken over
back to my breath
my thoughts are silly
they belong in a pit
I only believe the ones
that look like the sky

Jack and Val

May 13, 2017

Jack and Val met in the
moonlight by the shed
or was that the shed light
by the moon
by the fire pit wood
burning slow, simmering out
muttering
under its breath
at the rain

were there ants here
or does the hole in the
corner of this shed
signify something
Jack and Val decide
to disappear there
below in the meeting room
where Eric and Alice
Jane and Patrick first
felt themselves in the underground
no stairs
little sound
no genuine interruption

Jack and Val will meet
again next week
under a strange street lamp
during a light rain
night will speak to them
again as they prepare
to disappear from the rest

They will drift away from
the other’s memories
as they begin to grow
like a fire in their own

shall we disappear with them too
or decide to recede into the background
as the hole where they reside
fills up and
the drug
begins
to take
effect

Waiting

March 7, 2017

The couch is waiting
the pillow waiting
the sun is waiting
moon waiting too
my hand is waiting
whole body waiting
breathing, waiting
for you

the silent trees
misty leaves
silken hanging
from beneath
earth-like
sand, wood, termite
comes out of its hole
to see if you
are through

I’ll be waiting
go on waiting
forever waiting
what else am I to do?
the sun, the moon,
the stars, I co-opt their
significance, their relevance
brought me your eyes
brought me you

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