The stream (all workshops)
There's spaces in between the atoms
which make up our familiar world
take care when you consider them
lest into their recesses you be hurled
These chinks, too tiny to be seen
hold realities best left alone
populated by strange denizens
made of something not quite flesh and bone
When the walls between grow weak
and those looking, chance to see
a glimpse of other universes, near
they convey strange tales to you and me
The sound of silence soothes the ear
My eyes feast upon the stars
The shell that hosts my mind is earthbound
and thoughts float among the stellar
Finding new meaning in all the mundane things
I glory in the ephiphanies of day to day discovery
Daring not to close my eyes
I might miss some new revelation
I cringe in the brightness of each axiom
and reach for the peace of complacency
Up and down the scale of emotion
I am lifted and I fall
Surrendering... then fighting
as though I can win
going to work
another person is closing
the opening world, belonging
to some final forever
in the dreams of their hands
flaking pigments rise
to the order of the dust
while the lords of sun rule the air with smells
below Cleveland street signs decaying their molecules
mathematically into summer's heat
the smell of you
permeates my skin
drops of you
resonate
i am a bow for your
plucking, you are my
instrument
play me
He never knew these beautiful children existed
Not even the wind carried their native names
Your face wore a screen over eighteen moons
A spinster who knew incredibly little about men
Just out of a broken friendship with one Charles
Those who had eyes saw clearly through the veil
Hatched secret plans of freedom to evict the sham
Futile, their attempts, his love for you, the barrier
Some women are married to wars, like Helen of Troy
Women of Owu suffered from wanton war of love
He remembers their first time, in the evening chill
near to the cornfield behind the house on the hill.
Where the old folks live who are lost behind its door
and don’t know where, or who they are any more.
He visits her most days, she often doesn’t know who he is
up at the house on the hill, where she now needs to live.
Sometimes she looks at him with a certain look in her eye
and he knows that look and he tries hard not to cry.
I have put up with you enough
You keep challenging my rights
From my parents, I inherited this house
But you wouldn’t accept it’s mine
You’ve sneaked in, to live in here
As if you’ve got a birth right
The legal system wouldn’t help me
To remove you from the site
You use my things; from my table you eat
But I don’t earn for both you and I
I tried chasing you off the bounds
You wouldn’t budge, despite my trying!
i left them again
words spread like honey
sticking to my image
these dreams come
and i am shattered
you speak me
and i am silenced
Avalokiteśvara looks down
tangled in grape vines
i am crushed
drunk
with poems
i bear no gifts
no regrets
no sorrow
i am wordless
in a world gone mad.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Emh6ceA6zIg
From mire to mud
Man returns
Humanity moves on
A sea of sand in time
Like the grower’s hoe
Pebbles in the sand
A reminiscent search
Smoothly shaped stones
Passed for ornaments
Forms fancied by brood
Congregated to swell
Collectibles in places
Full of sandstone shingles
Historic stones erected
For those who made it
Human kind reflects
Its dazzling personages
Like stars shinning
A twinkle enchantment
if he brings a midnight poem he's written
will i let him read it
will we read it a few times
out loud, as we have in the past
and if he shoots like a rocket
into the forest, igniting the fire
as he has in the past
will i want to see him again
because his voice
lifts the gray from flowers
because he says i swell and
break the silence within him
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