Poetry

Bee Charmer
What do I say to a lonely morning that rides in upon
A two-month glory of loves lost reclamation?
Are my laden and muted infantile unreasons
Crying like some Beverly Hills babies’ demons?
Or do I beg to weigh in like the bellies of the bees,
That brought you all here to stay and lovingly appease,
The queen that can only perhaps be,
The solidified, strengthened, me?
I could also let the fear begin, (yawn) yet again…
Blame the courts and seer the castles keepers’ sins.
Or, maybe feel the sheet of this summers narcissistic heat
It will burn like gin,
And finally beat my heart to win,
It’s own war from within.
But
This time…
I do have merit in this quiet offering,
Inside my bags are full of your honey and my value tea.
I’ll share some golden moods
That poor out thick onto you,
And in my love I choose,
To slowly continue.
I am strewn and splayed about in earthly lady-ness.
Full from being blessed by a hungry meal of my past,
And also this, brutal, bashful, now-ness.
I could summon bad weather upon those that stay quiet,
While loudly commanding parades of selfish,
Hemorrhaging riots.
But
This time…
Silence holds a dead devils gunshot,
I’d rather sleep than once again get caught,
Running alone and far forgot,
Behind another wasted lot.

Fish
I’m packed on ice.
A big fish in a small cooler
Toxic, over-used, porous, and over-priced
I’ve been prematurely halted
From my frenetic deck flopping
Splintered and crazed on wood planks
Slimed and sopping.
That was still better than this,
Home, dummy, was merely inches away.
Yet, here I am, and almost am not,
Stopped, blocked, eyes wide and blood shot.
With a heart that miraculously still keeps a beat.
The fisherman hooked my lips,
His usage of being large never did make much sense.
Reeled me in from clear, comprehensible places,
Where life motions in constancy and delivers its graces.
Visitors swish and glide in peace and thanks
To combine paths into small, determined wakes.
Sharing the effects of their efforts with mine,
No obligatory invitations, any place, any time.
Just a pulling in of one another’s needings,
For each new passage and blessed feedings.
Now, it seems, I’ll wait here bleeding.

(This paper is so lazy it begs the pens efforts to end this pause,
Reach it’s self to cause, make some connection,
Arouse a new invention, and mark it’s own intention.
That is nearly undeserving of the word…)

I’ve heard of others from this habitat,
Strong enough to lift the cover,
Get away unheard or discovered
Leaving the hunter in dismay
“By his fare, he has been betrayed!”
This is the irony of his thinking ways!
He will share his story with his friends this fall
And no one will believe there ever a fish at all.
Not one he could catch, hold on to, or even ever call.

So push this lid you insipid slab of bloat
Use your gills in unison to escape
The prison you now devote!
Goodbye! I did it! Swim you little idiot!

Horrorscopes
Nothing thus far has ever been cast
Whether been seen nor said
That changes the way my heads lifts from my bed
Tell me to be a mouse or lizard today
I’ll behave like a cow if I wish it that way.
Elements of which I am said to be a part
Determine my time for bad luck and new starts.
You silly pig it is your year,
To bathe not in great wealth,
But in financial fear.
The IRS will put you in place
Because Saturn squared Mars somewhere in space.
Love wont be arriving this year or the last,
We told you this decade would go none to fast.
Twenty-eight will surely be as hard as it gets,
But still nothing like fifty-six,
For you’ll have to regroup
…. While removing a cist.

Dandelion seeds
My dandelion seeds fall to the bottom of a well.
Life been told but too soon to tell.
What was to become,
Has already been done

A cultural casualty, a spiritual calamity,
Becoming what I hadn’t wished to see.
I’m tripping on broken olive branches
Thrown by cautions final chances
A life in retrograde, a groundhogs tale,
An angry rabbit
Being chased by a snail.

Vaingloriously alone,
The marching band sits,
On a silent trombone.
Intend a song! That is what I say,
Dreaming of peace
But not taught how to pray.
This recycled blood, diluted by the flood,
Of women the before me
Forgotten by love.

Every leaf is a wing
Little feathers
On great big trees
Once I thought I saw
A black bird on an open crowded sea,
But it was just a
Tiny hand, holding
A quiet
Silly dream.

For my cat,King Leo
Ode to the freedom of spirits in pale orange.
He softly sleeps and then chooses to leap from my invisible cradle built on an eternal fable.
I vow to keep you safe while defying a promise to fate,
Because the choice is truly not mine.
Your path is deeply dug in the absence of time
While I attempt to force your circle into a silly ridiculous line.
You are far less fearless than the strength of my needing nearness,
So I let you go tonight to contribute to a trusting light,
And breathe in turbulence more steady than this fight to be right.
For the sake of your perfect little heart that beats in the time with a world without parts
And shows me to live to be free of sad ends and fresh starts.

FALLIN STAR
I FELL ASLEEP IN MY THIRTY-SECOND SPRING
A TlNY SPRIG IN A DYING TREE
IT WAS A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM
A STORY WITH NO THEME
MORE UNREAL THOUGH STILL THE SAME
MORE WILD AND FAR MORE TAME
TIME HAS STOPPED
INTENT DISCONTIUED
A FALLEN ANGEL TO BE YOUR MUSE
A MELTED STRUCTURE
PERMANANT WIND
LOOKING UP AT THE SOUL WHERE I ONCE
LIVED
A SPIRAL IN A CAVE
ODDLY FREE
AND MUCH MORE BRAVE
NO ORACLE CAN GUIDE MY HEART
THERE CANNOT BE A MAZE WITHOUT A FINISH
AND A START
MY ROAD BECAME A RIPPLE IN A WAVE
NO VESSEL FOR BIRTH
NO NEED FOR A GRAVE
TO FEEL ME YOU MUST BE ME
YOU MUST SWIM BUT ALWAYS LEAVE THE SEA
I HAVEN'T A WAY TO HOLD
BUT THESE LIFELESS ARMS ARE MORE YOUNG
THAN THEY ARE OLD
THIS IS THE PLACE WHERE LOVE LIES SLEEPING
NEVER MOVING BUT ALWAYS LEAPING