home
1 Jan 97
My head passing through the pink
blossoms. Choruses of joyous disdain erupt in circles everywhere.
Clouds of crackling light approach, strike and pass over me.
Old man in shabby voice inquires my desires. Gazes
at my silent look. Nods. Gutters discharge mourning like bleeding
trees. I am only a faceless head floating over a
convex golden sea. Comets pierce random sea creatures, expressing the
oil of tomorrow onto the beach of
yesterday. The net of measurement drags me down to meet the shining
surface. I melt and become the sea-stuff,
the land-stuff, the sky-stuff, the world-stuff. I am this world. Am
still. Memory is of now. Each feathering edge
meets itself as its other self. My exterior is within its interior.
Each tick of the present is the only tick. Time is always.
Ear, eye, touch, thought leap as one. I experience the other universes.
The emperor of each lives his petty will
earnestly sculpting the vanishing circle of objects and events. A
setting up of pins to knock down. A wrapping of
anxiety in expectation of loss of nothing and in hope of acquisition of
nothing by nothing. I shed a particle of
myself into this "ruler". There is so much to do, so many affairs to
manage, so many enemies who would take it all.
The armies must be sent out for new land and goods. The people must pay
to keep it going, the people must be
controlled.
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Who were we when the
apples ate the sky?
Where was the grasping
grammar of twilight?
When did the eventual
inquiry evaporate?
How was it that corners
translated regrets?
Near what honesty waddled
paper terrorist monkeys?
Never shade a gossiping
tree with its own rumor.
Four lazy riddles moistened
learning farces at once.
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We are the dreamers.
dreaming we are kings in our palaces
dreaming we are bums in our gutters
celebrities basking in limelight
reformers and revolutionizers
waiting or strutting and stamping up and down
to change the changeless changing
to manage the chaos of order
or to float on the tiny tide
sweeping the local universe.
We are all saints, scientists and artists
daily demonstrating our magic
and pretending it's not us.
The game is "Let's Pretend!"
We are the warriors, raping, torturing and pillaging.
We are the raped, the tortured, the pillage.
We tenderly caress the pretty child
and lust after virgins and mothers.
We hammer out the instruments of war,
Cut the crooked deals that run to power,
Finance both sides of a conflict
And rake in the "profits"
While we bury the prophets and critics.
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Proceed!
Who goes there?
You with the wrinkled eyes,
Cruising the root-tops.
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Stand and receive your blessing.
We're all blessed, there is nothing but blessing all around.
Even your blindness and fleeing are blessed.
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car, a heartbeat of summer
no tangle of tombstones
weed standing through slab
periscope punctured of sleeves
invoking a final razzle-dazzle
only the insane can unravel
spirit broken on rocks of quiescence
merging toward a slug of rattlesnakes
pausing the legends of daily life
we are bubbling out of the fountain of life
cast adrift in the brain forest
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I make no sense, do I.
Like the sparrow chirping
Perched on the iron fence
And the seedy dandelion,
Reaching its own end.
There seeps my genius,
Spilled in the sands.
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I see and hear what I see and hear,
and have my opinion,
And don't see and hear what I don't.
I don't, and don't have to
Experience everything
or be
everybody.
But if I occasionally glimpse/behold
the infinite source
of all
breathing the
infinitesimal result,
I would seem to be
among
the most fortunate of
creatures/beings.
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3 October 2001
Man teetering on the stink of exbrinction
(or if you
like, the brink of extinction)
Does not see his true enemy
lurking deep within,
Which repeatedly tells him:
"Let's you and him fight and
destroy each other.",
But is only aware of
The latest end of the world
Trade Center.
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Black fly on its back struggling from time to time against the gray
smooth table.
Chips and Coke and scandal sheet compete with the plaintiff's protest,
which ends.
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The world is my mirror: I see myself everywhere.
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9 Sept. 98
It is a sad thing to have lived a life and never to have found out what
one's purpose for being alive is or to have
even begun to fulfill it.
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5 March 2002
It was the only day of my life, so I decided to make it a good one.
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If anyone seize this
they will know the
art of discovery
Begun so many nevers ago.
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Microcomic/Microcaustic Dog
Old puppy masterfully embarking up double tree
tripping speedily blurlegs laughing tail
Next hard-wired scent seeker
Closed circuit obstacle dodger
Slaver tongue with bio-sonar
Food tube toy of living curiosity
Connecting all directions browser
Charging discharging sparks be-doing.
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Great hand touch face
Face shines within/without
Never/now flash
Aged hummm
Bloom to bloom
Polish the day untrying
Gaze in as out, out as in.
Gasp last first
Mind filtered life.
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21march2k--
.......words lead to words in the cowering
vendetta of manners
and matters forced to matriculate late when eventual
scimitars of
larceny moved morbid comments or muscling aptitudes closing
all
arguments in the country like posing poultry waiting for the
Nobel
Peace Prize like little kaisers mortified by nonchalance and
wasting
precious ideas to reach irrational goals before panic
attacks
polarize more breakfast cereals after blast,
cannon-fire taxes the
nerves of inanimate committees charged with keeping the pace
of
egress within discreet bounds for more than thirty decades
of
anonymous clap-trap now that we are delegated to the
partition of
the last meager wisps of elegance by condemnational
intricacies
woven from listless databases mortgaged up with paper tricks
after
elemental coronas bloom in the corners of mastery which
doesn't in
any way illuminate the plausibility that the new station
requires
transubstantiation for any stability to occur once the
shafts of
blight slide from under the anticipated luxury donors
gathered to
salivate with uncoupled teeth the freshest frauds manageable
under
the arrangements of the international tribunal of pocket
scientists
meeting over brunch at the Highest Hotel and Casino in Tibet
while
nervous investors picket mini-baseball concessions for want
of
nothing worse to do without gathering moss on their pelts
like
some old rocky impediment to fusion never before solicited
for daily
input to the universal library of depth and tradition which
voluntarily
accedes to momentary mourning for reasonably deprived ant
sisters not
alone in their briefing on the notable volley of choices
facing
outright temptation like little-lord-what's-his-name who
fell off
the bar stool onto a glittering mass of electronic splatter
intended
to coalesce the subtle patterns of mass in the unified field
on the
north forty after which (which?) a steady flow of refugees
captured
the lofty citadel of the assassins and made it a wax museum
later
transported to Hollywood at five dollars a head and so
killed every
chance for elephant dreams to reach fruition without
over-the-counter
medication and prescription antiques, half betting on
melting candles
to usher in the old billennium of leaf-breathing dragons
saddled up
for a romp in debit valley for limited shadows that parrot
infinity
on closed circuit commerce without the slightest chance of
reviving
the prickly menace or placid paranormality pretending there
is
some yesterday or tomorrow leaning on us for a loan or a
bone-
shattering slag-heap straining to be heard over a
misunderstood
word intuitively proscribed by smells discovered in
excavations on
the asian peninsula by groups of hardy sand farmers to be
merely
interrogation inhibitors and appetite suppressants due for
an
overhaul necessitated by omitted sentries on the great wall
of
Chinese forgiveness if wondering minuets give the sign for
instant
relief of formative symptoms not previously promised to
jughead
wrestlers between bouts rehabilitating their tired pineal
glands
once the crowd dispersed in a value heap that no monitor
welcomed
until foraging forest creatures cast heavy glances at the
space
between the drawn-up sides yearning for the best seats
behind the
pole of India recuperating from too much irrational slopes
neither
sweet nor sour but tasting of thick flat paint layered with
buckshot
waves practically fitted to turkey neck fruit only much
looser so
that rejected jail cells transfer ability certificates to
inner
back rooms with back seats in plush velvet painted with
mosaic-
like designs reminding one of alabaster wrist watches
leaking
mustard in the thin atmosphere of a frontier settlement on a
planet not listed in the intergalactic guidebook and keeping
time
for other systems which makes scheduling difficult for those
without
a seventeenth sense rarely found among pioneers since the
earliest
wanderers emerged from golden eggs laid by for rainy Sundays
and
lazy forenoons to ease into projects annotated in insinuated
tongues for security purposes although no enemies were
visible
across the horizon perfectly positioned for capacious
puzzles at
least matching efforts to terminals with links twisted and
tangled
like never-combed hair or loosed upon the frenzied mobs
screaming
for bread and blood as if all the half-baked vampires were
belched
up in one place to avenge little blessings doled out by
wheelbarrows
of monastic monarchy living as one another to disguise the
source
of granular permutations that might influence former
candidates to
abandon prospective ambitions not those expected by uncommon
parsons
dispersing the goof news of celestial infiltration from the
backwaters of temerity deciding whether the current focus
would have
been proximity fused within porcupine parameters neither
enhancement
having any bearing on monetary motions in the vast
containment market
obviously inherited from pocket investments arranged upon
revelation
of a weird scandal involving tourist misinformation stolen
by the
rearguard of a pygmy rebellion afterwards characterized as a
company
picnic for analytical chemists boasting of the latest
breakthrough
in butterfly fuel research instead of quietly vowing to
scale back
any previous fishing excursions to suit your mother's feeble
aunt
while the tapered conquest roars through the valley and
rattles the
windows in the fourth county over the heathery hill like a
liquid
moon over onyx waters crisply chattering a money mantra for
eager
equality notified too late to pet graduate dolphins or lead
blind
billy goats to laughter as a flesh weakener or pearl
extractor
juice seeping into locker room panels like evening silence
falls
on party fleeing kangaroos unless amazement enables eager
disasters
more often than early environment cuts bereavement from
lasting
insults lonesomely prepared by retired boy scouts from
resorts
consisting of a thousand islands worth of condiments after a
valentine raid and a solid shower of ballistics computations
filtered
through prehistoric book reviews proposing the speedy
accession of
fred the ungrateful who in other parts was an abused car
salesman
pretending to offer the final solution to every tenth or so
problems
unfaced by the hominid bunch well known throughout the atom
as
methodical morons freely distracted until models of
epiphanous perils
appease mortality or the hub of rational praise is compared
to
transferred ordnance warehouses on a virtual scale of won to
team
partners underloaded and undersigned on no empty passages of
vacated
parsimony no one remembers as too bestial for elevated
discussion on
streetwise tactics and a gleeful slice of marketable
dissension might
occasionally pretend to royal status or preserve solemn
reputations
for constant carnival insiders marching on the growers that
buy new
seeds every millennium to grace their tombs of roasted
marbles
usually horrified at portraits and portents of cashmere
insulation
forged by itinerant cowboys riding dune buggies over the
cabbage patch
like an army storming the last hill mentioned in the story
books
quickly massaged into children's brains from behind
shimmering glass
and remotely engineered by neophyte comedians in spite of global
cooling caused by pre-scientific tv interviews on panic
channels
a distant cousin in wayfaring development through future
mythology
as a foster child of forty wise snails in golden armor
riding
saurus horses for dainty premonitions of geologic upheavals
protected from preprogrammed logic analysis by later
versions of
starlit scriptures tied into gorgeous knots with petrified
noodles
peeking out like shy homilies wasted on emerald-filled ears
trained
to mend lost continents with super glue making such
hospitals
unnecessary to pave gardens never broached in plain talk
discussions
because the bell clicked waveringly out of the blue box of
plaster
saints now on display at the ornery museum until the end of
the war
with good sense which has taken on a death of its own in the
waning
months of the trillennium dozing with the vanguard thinkers
willing
for tempests to clear out malignant populations making room
for
party domes and double billing for more than requested
generous
feats of length barely seen through myopic kaleidoscopes
barricaded
in abandoned sewage tunnels during the long unawaited market
positioning added to the realism of mental challenges
packing air
freight in brief gusts of familiarity incorporated with
concepts
unconvinced by parallel time tricks not usually apprehended
for loot
on holy days created within maximum memory by surf drivers
resolving
to invest their wind slick in poster colors like elkbone red
in time
for the world bank to alienate sun rays with snide comments
about
solar eminence in relation to the goon in the moon full of
trance
weaving into nutritious portability with taped shut
broadcasting
easy notations resolving breakage into faceted promises
giving
no argument to lean on while raising questions of minor
purport
to generations of celestial refugees retrained and
cross-trained
in nominal explication by the finest couch
potatoes half-baked in
their skins in technical terms without oppressing the massive
conundrum unresolved in seance after seance not to mention
the
persistent chirp of birds and the roar unceasing of humankind
sputtering toward some idol dream or night panic button
enveloped
in waxen starlight mixed with beaten egg white never
pretending
to be baffled by feathers of ecstasy in numbers of
deliverance
obedient to faded iron laws practically elevated within
anatomical
echoes which will satisfy a gentle turmoil of seeded blood
wanting
available sunlight to vilify nobodies for their
participation in
waiting for to go to be earnest in principle and policy when
only
fruits loom large on the polished morions like manicured
entrails
writhing upon the slab of maple physically disintegrated
under
elegant shaker furniture before nasty smells permeate the
confessional cubicle causing squirming notions in deep pockets of
persistance that heretofore went ballistic over jello planets while
old
panes of radiation fanned the overheated spinestem unless
patriots
elbowed their way out of class on a bright spring morning
preferred
outside elements instead of square wheels streamlined for
relaxed
stress beating around the shrubbery for answers to ape-old
answers
to ale-mold questions complaining to departments of inferiors
not wasted twice at unlocked chasms of meridian choppers who
lead
movements over cliffs of pondering magic knowing as they
must what
quantific consequences alleviate symptoms of quarantine
cloning
now that talk radio relents and keeps an ear to the
microphone
as a concession to world wonder easily twisted brown cowhide
text
for easy approaches to malicious incidents as a classic trace
of
manicured essentials traditionally untouched in the public
scriptures
for major division by twin porridge ladles expertly
translated into
the mother's dung ordinarily delegated to newly fashioned
tuition
buyers rather mature in their polka-dot pajamas after a hard
work's
day at the orifice including pickle creeping with a team of
brained
wheels in the role of avengers celebrating near
mastery of dream
squeezing without promotion as hundreds of civilizations
collaborate
on error-building technology in a manner reminiscent of cork
powered tricycle gears noisily waiting for the next line to
step
over in anguish of emotional tiptoe wary of air mines
swooping
after portions of dejection nowhere than pigeon frivolity
newly
reformed by slide rule mnemonics rather than digitoid
para-economics
malpracticed by the jokers of happy valley funny farm like
regurgitated
aptitudes cleverly bundled with pallid platitudes for easy
dissimulation which in practical terms means evidence for
idea
pollution is lagging behind elective legislation advanced by
disturbed
monkey tamers so that salaries invented through stage magic
encircled
by albino crows carrying hollow signs as a project waiving
piecrust
sentries or nickel-plated relics of the industrious
revolution not
wanting peaceful slopes in the brow of atlantis my cousin
predicted
weeks ago that flamingos and roadrunners are rivals for hot
and cold
relief programs returning emblems of chicanery to each
faulty tomato
pursuer left in church so many nights of fancy living that
warrant
further inspection to determine eligibility for schedules
outside the
power parameters only to sneak after lost dollars for
endless carpets
presented in three dimensions with skinny spaghetti frills
lining the
phrastic entreaty by smoking monologue in less time than
groups of
oysters palpitate the human genome most assuredly
accompanied by
long lasting predators weakened by every process of
perception which
portended annual orchestral truncation hardly a nominee for
playing
first banjo in the heavenly symphony free of elastic
terminals
levering positions to pillage privilege out of expensive
social
nerve centers not only for ambitious protection but as well
for limp
salutations measured out in gallon tasks on a pretext of
worn costumes
badly fitting until the mountaineering/flying lessons are
cancelled by
imperial decree fortified with chocolate dipped lasers
mounted on
weary camels which dance to recitations of Hegel in the
original gilt
frame held up with helium balloons and held down by sandbags
while
elegant manicurists gobble pizza before it and chase after
knobby-
headed penitents scattering mild oats for sometime breakfast
reunions
after stale popcorn went out of fashion in the monasteries
of
prehistoric Finland