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Ridgewood, New York, United States

Monday, August 29, 2011

Holy Gone Monster

Everyone is seeing up above and beyond
seer's dreaming up all the visions.
  Not one ounce of pure sight is left.
All real estate taken upstream
by the flesh saturating west
from an eastern shore I can see people

but spreading over across the wilds of our barren country's heart lies the way to anima

engrave it on your lover's palm
a love whispered prayer
no snarky remarks that injure or condem
love to no avail
keep your blackened bird smothered under breath
sole mutterings till your death begins again 
but this beautiful bird only visible to wonderkind
lovely creatures in their own rite
spring forward to offer her life
they are her saviors

I dreamed of leaves torn to shreds
and paper children flowered in the wind

I dreamed I killed a whale, rode its hide to the other side of the ocean to find the tortoise lover

she was covered in worries, not of her own
but those accumulated from the tide
barnacles clasped to her body
centuries ago she learned to fly                    and through the water she found more of her wonderkind
lovers and friends
new family myths beginning again
inside of her like embryonic imprints upon her womb
a matrix child, mother in making spirits light 
only when her dark horse arrived to take her home would she rejoice 
for tired and worn were her soles

this empress knight, fighting her way home through all bodies 
running upstream
No valley could contain the sounds of glass she made underfoot
                                            her fingerprints washed off her hands 

she belonged to no country, she belonged to no man.

New think speak

There say luck would have me one day.
Just the day I chose to meet luck out in this wide open world, would the world swallow me a hole?
I make sure to care for my breath and visit you quite regularly underneath it

the words blanketed by the sounds underground, underwater.
Dripping down like honey combed wine from fair lips.
You've got hip appeal and flags that bring down ships to a quiet still.

and still as if to divine and to unravel so much more time is left when you are mine
unraveled thin
like crosshaired love wires
I'm shore
you wave
and so one softened kiss is moore
than a thousand stiff kisses
lets chance again
I miss you and the good lord tht holds your hand
its auburn wonderful
each and every strand
you take care of every one of us girls the best you can
how i miss you so
how i must let go
how i miss you so
how i must let go

Thursday, August 25, 2011

En Rapture

Cottage Cheese, a banana, two coffees with skim milk, walked to work in the faint rain.

It is instant, you run into the building covered in blessed stone, tall and pointing towards the sky. A place where you have devoted all your faith, your beliefs locked away in a small incensed boxed tucked underneath the dusted altar. But first, the fire sky opened and the rains came down again as hard as they had ever been, you were frozen again and your tears came down again when your look above you held  the exact precision of the holy building. You ran there first because the town was small and your flashing lights were bright, tracing a path directly into the church, gold bricked and paved to safety. From harms hasty way the ground shook and bodies were propelled forward, heads pointed horizontally erect. This was the rapture covered in lace and you were still on earth covered in dirt as the souls lifted from the ground, whose legs you desperately embraced in gasps. You were lost and winded and behind the words that were whispered in your ears from your childhood memories, like the thunder and the rainstorm passing by, they faded into the ghostly wind. Was your lover not in heaven coming back to encapsulate your love in his bottled potion? Positioned with a tincture to revive you from your slumber white snow lovers, whose winter warmth held the earth's balance and fevered the blistering sun in the summer's brightest rain?

For all year long we waited underneath the fickle trees of lust and their fruit lay rotting barren without seed. Boyhood dreams left unfulfilled were dreams floating in the clouds. How could we recover the sound of the river in our hearts? This rapture wrapped in solid ice caps, unable to breathe but for the cathedral sky, crystalline letting in tidbits of the sun. From its portioned rays grew a deformed vine enraptured entwined round the lines of holiness. Following the light it grew as strong as the the slivers of light would allow it room. 

Will you lie dormant under the rubble until the wind comes off to carry you? Earth overbearing mother, soaring eagle to carry me home in a blue box to the sea.